#just pretend it says goggles

[arcart]

In honor of Halloween today, here’s some mp100 in Ghostbusters costumes >_<

[oglegoggle]

Went to nonbinary support group earlier this evening. A fun and silly question was asked, “What’s your non-traditional gender?”. The person asking described their gender as some cigarette butts floating in a gross puddle, another person describing themself as a cigarette butt with lipstick stains on it, my love described themself as a bunny rabbit, and when it came around for me to answer I said I’m a dirty hippy. The person asking then spent ten minutes going off on me about how #problematic hippy culture is, ignoring multiple bids from me to say yeah there are things wrong with it I know full well but they did not relent, eventually remarking that punks look mean but are actually nice and hippies look nice but are actually mean and telling me my gender is pretty much folk punk anyway?? My love stopped the convo by asking the others in the group who didn’t get a chance to answer to do so but the vibe was not great after. This is such a strange and petty encounter but something about it still rubbed me the wrong way in such a way that continues to linger in my mind. What the fuck?

[arttheclown]

twicord isn’t a bad ship people are just mean ):

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。by expensive tiles and elite gym pools | gojo satoru

wc: 935

summary: you visit gojo during one of his training sessions for his upcoming swim meet.

contains: written with f!reader in mind but no pronouns stated, only gendered term is ‘boyfriend’ pertaining to gojo, swimmer!satoru, non-curse au

a/n: wrote this as a lil surprise blurb bday gift for @kedsandtubesocks (but it got longer than expected... oops) i know how much you love your sports aus erika!! also inspired by some swim!satoru thoughts i had a few days ago!

You hear a splash! the moment you enter the doors of the gym pool.

The lanes are empty save for one, vast crystal blue shimmering as it reflects the light passing through the glass ceiling. You don't know much about pool construction, but the tiles here look clean, with each edge perfectly cut to fit seamlessly into the other; the markings of luxury, expensive but simple enough not to distract—

—which is what you shouldn't be doing walking into this exclusive gym pool reserved only for the best of the best, the elite. Top tier professionals.

Ones like your gold-winning pro-swimmer boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.

He's approaching the end of his lap when you settle into a squat in front of the lane he’s on, towel hanging off your shoulders as you cross your arms over your knees, wiggling your toes as you wait. The moment he breaks through the surface, you can't hide the smile on your face.

You haven’t seen him in days. 

Everything about him feels like he was made for this—how the ripples make way to accommodate his breathing, the dips and curves of muscle on his shoulders, flexing; how his fingers glide his goggles atop his head without resistance, smoothly. Even with his hair held back by the elastic, the few wet clumps that fall out still frame his face so perfectly. 

It's unbelievable how your boyfriend can look so much like the water he swims in—brilliant and white like glimmers of reflected light, and clean blue, striking, always glistening the moment your eyes catch his. 

Sometimes, looking at him feels a lot like drowning.

"How did I do?" he smirks, squinting into what would have been a suave wink, if not for a drop of water causing an involuntary eye-twitch. 

He already knows the answer, but you indulge him anyway, "Good, as always."

"Just good?" he pouts.

There's a droplet of water hanging by his lips, desperately clinging as it trembles while he breathes. You know he knows you're looking by the way he runs his tongue over it, taunting. 

You narrow your gaze and shrug, teasing, "Maybe you missed something."

He swims closer to the ledge you're squatting by, palms pressing on tile to hoist himself up. You try not to fixate on the way his triceps flex as they hold him up, but he lives for this kind of attention from you—he’d do anything to keep you looking at him the way you do. 

Half of his left leg remains submerged when he settles himself on the edge of the pool, the other one bent as he tilts his head in mock wonder, “Did I?”

It's your turn to pout now as he pretends not to know what you’re after, and you're about to say something on it until—

"S'toru!"

—you scream, pulled off-balance with your heart nearly dropping to your stomach at the fear of being dragged into the water. Except you aren't, because with a simple tug at the towel around your neck, he's managed to tip you over to fall into his lap, steadying you against his very wet and very broad chest instead.  

You smack his shoulders, mouth agape and eyes wide as you push back to look at him. He looks pleased with himself, almost laughing even as his arms settle on your hips, grabbing the flesh and squeezing.

"Mean," you scrunch your nose, and he chuckles.

"Excuse me," he holds you closer, "who hurt my feelings first?"

You roll your eyes fondly, sliding your hands to clasp at the back of his neck, "Okay, big baby."

"Do you want your kiss or not?"

You glare at him, lips pursed tight, "As if you don't—"

So he does—kiss you, lips soft and a little damp. You can taste the chlorine from the hours he's already spent here prior to you coming, but it's comforting, a taste entirely too familiar that you sometimes find yourself looking for it during the long stretches he’s on break. 

He kisses you because you're right, something was missing, and it's always this same thing.

You smile against his lips before breaking away, heart gleaming like pool water. The moment is tender, soft, touched by the magic of being together amidst expensive tiles and elite gym pools.

But you should have known better than to trust your pro-swimmer boyfriend, Gojo Satoru—full-time athlete, and part-time the most insufferable person you’ve ever met.

Because with the way his arm has been wrapping itself inch-by-inch around your waist, he's managed to shift his body back to face the pool, only to dump the both of you back in the water, together.

"Satoru!"

He laughs, voice carrying throughout the gym. You grumble about still having your slippers on and he dives under to get it off you, throwing it to the side when he emerges. 

"Race me!" he ducks to the other lane, sliding his goggles back on before shooting you a thumbs up.

And you’d think this silly of him, really, because this is your back-to-back-to-back gold-winning pro-swimmer boyfriend asking you, a survival swimmer at best, to race him—but you can tell this is his cover for you. 

You’d get in trouble if anyone caught you here in the first place. His schedule's been tight lately, locked down with the need to focus for his upcoming swim meet. Being focused meant no distractions, and you being the worst of them all meant less time spent with you, too. 

Still, he'd insisted that you come today, so.

You can't technically be a distraction if you're going to 'train' with him anyway, right?

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[sweets-library]

The quiet hours

Shouta Aizawa/reader. hurt/comfort. wc: 4.2k.

READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. DO NOT READ THIS IF THEY DO NOT APPEAL TO YOU.

content warnings: spanking, punishment, rules, heavy use of daddy as a title, heavy themes of discipline

-

You're not allowed to watch the news when Shouta's not home. It might seem harsh, but after that one awful night—when you spiralled into panic attacks and wore yourself down to the bone over a fight that didn’t even involve him (“Underground pro moved to intensive care after brutal battle—”)—he laid down the rule: no news unless he's there to reassure you. And now, well, you’re breaking it.

Your fingers are raw, nails torn from anxious chewing as you follow the chaos unfolding on-screen. The fight rages on in an area Shouta patrols, and the pit in your stomach grows with every minute that passes. You search the screen, desperate for any sign of him—a dark figure amid the blur of heroes, villains, police, and civilians scrambling in the streets. The news helicopter captures the madness from above, and you try to convince yourself he’s fine. He’s always fine. But after an hour, when the villains are finally subdued, Shouta is nowhere to be found. Instead, you watch helplessly as bodies are loaded into ambulances, and worse, some are dragged away, lifeless.

It’s 3 a.m. now. Another rule broken. Shouta hates it when you stay up for him—he says it leaves you exhausted, strung out for no reason when you could wake up beside him, safe and sound. He’d be livid if he knew, but you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s your boyfriend, your partner, and every day he risks his life out there. Of course, you worry. Who cares if you can barely keep your eyes open at work tomorrow? At least you'd know he made it home.

The coverage is still playing when you hear his key in the lock, and your heart leaps into your throat. You quickly fumble for the remote, switch off the TV, and dive under the blankets on the couch, pretending to be asleep. He’s not going to be thrilled that you didn’t make it to bed, but at least he won’t think you’ve completely ignored his rules.

You hold your breath, listening to the familiar sounds of his boots hitting the floor, the clink of his goggles landing on the table, and the soft swish of his capture weapon being hooked by the door. His footsteps are slow and deliberate as he makes his way into the living room, pausing when he spots you curled up on the couch. There’s a heavy sigh—he’s fondly irritated, you can feel it—and for a moment, you brace yourself for a scolding.

Instead, his arms slip gently under you, lifting you without a word. You instinctively snuggle into him, heart pounding with relief. He’s home. He’s safe.

“Missed you, Sho…” you mumble, your voice thick with genuine exhaustion now that he’s here.

"Hm," he replies, the stern edge in his voice making your heart skip. "Were you waiting up for me?"

You don’t dare look at him. “No,” you lie, nuzzling into his shoulder as he lowers you onto the bed. “I was just watching a movie and fell asleep.”

You feel his eyes on you in the darkness, scrutinizing. "Makeup down your cheeks," he notes, swiping at the streaks with his thumb. "Must’ve been a real tearjerker, huh?"

"Yeah…a dog died," you murmur, barely able to suppress a yawn. His quiet chuckle sends a wave of relief through you—he bought it, or at least, he’s letting you think he did.

“My little crybaby,” he teases, but you can hear the affection in his voice.

"At least kiss me before you start being mean," you grumble, pulling him down for a sleepy, lingering kiss. He hums against your lips, then pulls back.

"Go to sleep. I’m gonna shower and come to bed."

You smile, snuggling deeper into the blankets, eyes heavy as you let the relief wash over you. Somehow, you actually got away with it. You listen as Shouta moves around the apartment—showering, heating up his dinner in the microwave, and finally settling onto the couch. The familiar sounds are comforting, grounding you in the safety of knowing he's home.

And then, you hear it. The soft click of the TV turning on.

Your heart skips a beat. The news. The coverage of the attack is still on. You cringe, suddenly wide awake, the comfort of a few minutes ago evaporating as panic flares up again. You strain to hear every detail, anxiety pooling in your chest as you imagine the look on his face when he realizes what you've been up to.

The clink of his plate hitting the coffee table snaps your attention back, followed by the low groan of the couch as he stands. Footsteps, slow and deliberate, pad toward the bedroom. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter, willing yourself to look peaceful, and innocent—hoping against hope that you can delay the inevitable until morning.

But you’re not that lucky.

"Sit up." His voice cuts through the silence, low and firm.

You hear him, but you stupidly ignore it, keeping your eyes shut in some desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll let it go. The air grows tense, and you hear the sharp click of his tongue, a sound that makes your heart stutter.

“Little girl, you do not want to make this worse than it already is,” he warns, his tone laced with quiet authority. The moment those words hit, your body moves before your brain can even catch up. You sit up, your gaze fixed firmly on the floor, trying to steady your breath.

He steps closer, his presence looming as he positions himself in front of you. You don’t dare look up, but the weight of his stare presses down on you. Then, his fingers grip your chin, not harsh, but firm enough to force your eyes up. The moment you meet his gaze, your stomach drops.

He’s pissed. His dark eyes are locked onto yours, filled with disappointment and frustration.

"I'm going to give you one chance to tell me how you spent your night," he says, voice low and steady, "and so help me, if you lie again, you'll be getting bedtime spankings for a week."

The threat sends a chill down your spine. This isn't your boyfriend Shouta right now. The warmth and gentleness are suddenly punctuated by the stern, unyielding side of him that leaves no room for games.

"I—well," you stammer, your voice small. "I was watching TV... and I stayed up too late. I'm sorry." The apology slips out in a mumble, barely audible, as his hand moves to cup your jaw, holding you in place. He leans in, his presence overwhelming.

"Sorry, what?" His voice is firm, a quiet demand that makes your heart race.

"Sorry, Daddy..." you whisper, heat rushing to your face in embarrassment. It feels vulnerable to say it out loud, especially now.

"Hm." He lets go of your chin, crossing his arms over his chest. His forearms strain against the fabric of his sleeves, muscles flexing as he sizes you up. The air between you is heavy with his disappointment, but despite the weight of it, a small flutter stirs in your stomach. You hate how his sternness affects you like this.

"You were watching what on the TV?" he asks, his tone pointed, his gaze never leaving yours.

You sniff, nervously playing with your fingers, unable to stop the tremble in your hands. "I... I was watching the news," you finally admit, voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I was just so worried, and it was so late, and they were in your area, and I just—"

"Enough."

The word snaps the air like a whip, and your mouth shuts instantly. The tension in the room feels almost suffocating as you stare up at him, waiting for the inevitable.

"So," he continues, his voice even and measured, "not only did you stay up far later than you're allowed, knowing full well you have work tomorrow, but you also worked yourself into a panic over the news. And then, you lied to me about it." He pauses, eyes narrowing as if daring you to challenge him. "Do I have that right?"

Your throat tightens, and your stomach feels like it's sinking. There's no way out of this, no excuse you can offer. He expects an answer, and there's only one.

"Yes... Daddy," you whisper, your voice fragile, on the verge of breaking under the weight of it all.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration before rubbing his tired eyes. The sound of his exhale fills the room, thick with disappointment. You can feel his exhaustion, his worry—this is not how he wanted to end his night, and it makes your chest ache.

“We talked about this,” he says, his voice firmer now, frustration seeping into each word. “We have this rule for a reason, so you don’t spend your nights like this—crying over something that’s not even happening!”

You sniffle, your chest tightening as guilt floods through you. “But... what if something did happen? And I had no idea, and you were hurt, and alone, and—”

“Sweetheart,” he cuts in, gentler now but still firm, “if something happens, you’re the first person they will call. You know this. The hospital will notify you if I’m hurt. And if it’s anything else, the commission will contact Mic, who will call you immediately. You know all of this—we talked about it when we made this rule. Together.”

He runs a hand through his hair, clearly tired and frustrated. The exhaustion in his eyes, the strain in his voice, all hit you at once. He’s been working so hard, pushing himself to keep you safe, to keep everyone safe, and here you are, breaking the very rules you agreed on. The weight of it presses down on your chest, and the guilt gnaws at you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice thick with regret.“I just... I worry. So much.” The words come out in a whimper, hoping for some sympathy, but Shouta isn’t swayed by the tears.

“Baby,” he begins, his voice firm but not unkind, “you have to trust me. I don’t want you sitting here, crying yourself hoarse every night over something that hasn’t happened. It’s not fair to you. It’s not healthy, and I won’t allow it.” His gaze is piercing, locking with yours, filled with concern but unwavering in its resolve. You know he’s right, but the ache of your worry feels so real.

Silence hangs in the air for a moment as he looks at you, clearly weighing his next move. Finally, he speaks again, and it’s not what you expect.

“I’ll call your work in the morning. You’re not going in tomorrow.”

“What? No—Shouta, I’m fine!” you whine, trying to push back against his decision, but he taps your cheek again, this time with a little more firmness.

“Little girl, I don’t think you’re in any position to argue with me right now,” he says, his voice calm but unyielding. “Trust me, you’re not going to want to go to work tomorrow. We’re working this out tonight. I don’t want to have this discussion again, so we’re dealing with it here and now.”

The finality of his words hits you hard, and you feel the sting of tears building again, pressing at the corners of your eyes. You don’t want to deal with this—not now. Not like this. “Daddy, please, I’m sorry,” you plead, your voice fragile and trembling, but it doesn’t change his resolve.

Your apology falls on deaf ears as Shouta pulls the blankets from your legs with a swift motion, guiding you up with a firm but gentle grip. “Don’t argue with me,” he says quietly. “Come here. Now.”

You hesitate, but his firm tone leaves no room for defiance. He takes you by the arm, leading you to the end of the bed. He sits down, looking up at you with that same intense gaze, the weight of his authority wrapping around you. You stand in front of him, shifting nervously from one foot to the other, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Shouta, I—” you start, but his sharp look cuts you off before the words can even fully leave your mouth. You’re in no position to argue. You know this, but it doesn’t stop the nervous tremor running through your body as you shuffle your feet, feeling his gaze settle heavily on you.

“How many rules did you break tonight?” he asks, his voice calm but firm, waiting for you to face the truth.

You bite your lip, glancing down as the weight of your actions settles in. “I... I stayed up late,” you begin in a shaky voice, “and I watched the news... and I lied.” Your voice cracks on the last confession, barely above a whisper. “So... three,” you finish, the admission hanging in the air like a confession you’ve been dreading.

Shouta’s hands move to gently rub the sides of your legs, grounding you in the moment. His touch is comforting, a reminder that even now, when things feel so overwhelming, he’s here for you. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you whisper, your voice breaking as a tear slips down your cheek.

He’s watching you carefully, aware of how hard this is for you, but also knowing this moment is important. You flourish under this dynamic with him—he knows that. It’s his responsibility to guide you, to redirect you when you stumble, and this is one of those moments. A slip. A mistake. One that he’ll correct, and when he does, everything will fall back into place and you'll feel better for it.

Shouta gently wipes the tear from your cheek, his thumb soft against your skin. "I know you’re sorry," he says quietly, “but this is why we have these rules. To help you, not to hurt you. And you know I’m going to make sure you learn from this.”

You nod, knowing deep down he’s right.

“Thank you for being honest with me, sweetheart,” he says softly, patting your cheek lovingly. The warmth in his touch eases some of the tension coiling in your stomach. “I think that’s enough TV for the rest of the week. You can read your books instead.”

Your heart sinks at the thought of being cut off from your usual distractions, but you suppress the urge to stomp your feet and whine. You know he’s not done yet. “And tomorrow after breakfast, I want you to write 50 lines in your notebook, telling me you won’t lie to me again,” he adds, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You nod slowly, knowing this is part of the process. It feels unfair, but deep down, you understand that it’s for your own good.

“Now for tonight,” he continues, his voice low and steady, “I think we will finish this discussion over my lap. Come here.”

With a mix of reluctance and acceptance, you shuffle closer to him, positioning yourself over his lap. It feels both familiar and daunting as you bury your face in your arms, the warmth of his body wrapping around you. The world outside feels distant, and for a moment, all you can focus on is the steady rhythm of your breathing, trying to steady yourself for what’s to come.

“What’s your safeword?” he asks, his hand rubbing your back comfortingly, a grounding presence in this moment.

“Red,” you reply firmly, the single word a declaration of your readiness, a promise of trust.

“Good girl.” His approval wraps around you like a warm blanket, but before you can fully absorb it, his hand comes down hard. Even with the cushion of your pajama pants, the sting is sharp, and a whimper escapes your lips as you bury your face deeper into your arms.

The initial shock of pain sends warmth pooling in your cheeks, and you brace yourself, knowing he’s just getting started. He begins to layer swats on your backside, each strike firm and unyielding. With every hit, you feel a mix of emotions—pain mingled with an odd sense of release. His hands fall without mercy, and in the back of your mind, you know this is only the warmup, the prelude to what’s to come.

Your breath quickens, and you focus on the rhythm of his hand, feeling the sting dissipate into a strange warmth that blankets your apprehension. Each swat brings you closer to a clarity that only he can provide, a reminder of the balance between discipline and care.

“This won’t work if we can’t trust each other,” he says, his voice steady and authoritative, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his hand striking your backside. The hits keep coming, a sharp reminder that you need to pay attention. You don’t bother to respond; you know he wants you to listen right now.

“I need to be able to go to work without worrying that you’re at home crying yourself sick over something that was completely avoidable.” The sting resonates in your skin, but it’s the truth in his words that hits harder. Each swat underscores his concern, reinforcing the message he’s trying to drive home.

“If you’re feeling nervous, text me, or Hizashi, or Nemuri. I can’t always answer right away,” he continues, his tone firm yet laced with care. “But I’d rather you reach out to someone for help when your anxiety is getting the best of you than turn on the news and make things far worse for yourself.”

His emphasis on reaching out wraps around you like a lifeline, and you begin to realize the weight of your actions. It’s not just about following the rules; it’s about building a foundation of trust and communication. You focus on his words, letting them sink in as each strike reinforces the lesson. Whenever he redirects you, his discipline feels less like punishment and more like an act of love, a reminder that you’re never alone in this.

The swats stop for the moment, but you know the routine, and dont bother getting excited. He eases your pants down to sit at your knees, and resumes the flurry of spanks while you cry and drum your toes into the mattress. 

“And under no circumstances is it ever okay for you to lie to me,” he asserts, his voice unyielding, filled with the weight of authority. “Everybody makes mistakes, but if you can’t tell me the truth, then where does that leave us? If I find out you’re lying to me again, I have half a mind to wash your mouth out with soap and give you lines every day for a month. Do I make myself clear?”

The words hang heavy in the air, and you choke out a sob, barely able to respond. “Yes, Daddy, m’sorry!”

“If I can’t trust that you’re making good choices, then there will have to be long-term consequences.” His tone softens slightly, but the seriousness remains. “Do you need me to set up a check-in schedule for you? Is that what it will take for you to behave?”

Your heart sinks, guilt washing over you as you realize he’s already stretched thin, so busy and tired, and here you are, adding to his burden. “No, no, I’ll behave! Please!” You cry, desperation tinging your voice.

“I’m happy to hear that, baby,” he murmurs, his voice softening as he continues his steady rhythm. “But if that’s what you needed, then that’s just fine. We’ll talk about it another time.” His hand gently caresses your back, the warmth of his touch providing a comforting contrast to the stinging of your skin. “I love you, sweetheart. If you need more support from me, then you need to tell me.”

You can feel his gentleness in his words, even if he can’t see the tear-streaked cheeks you hide from him. A fresh wave of emotion crashes over you, and you can’t help but weep, overwhelmed by the mixture of relief and vulnerability. The pain lingers, but it’s softened by the assurance that he’s here, guiding you through the shadows of your anxiety. In this moment, you feel a flicker of hope—his love is a steady anchor, reminding you that you don’t have to navigate this storm alone.

“Love you, Daddy. I’m sorry; I can do it. I can be good,” you cry, your voice thick with remorse.

He lets out a weary sigh, the sound heavy with mixed emotions. “You’re always my good girl, baby. I love you so much. We’re almost done.” With that, he shifts the position of your legs, exposing your sit spots more fully for the next phase of your punishment.

As the final swats begin, you feel the sting intensify, but beneath it all, there’s a strange sense of clarity. His unwavering presence and the weight of his expectations create a safe space for you to confront your fears and anxieties. Each strike serves as a reminder of the lessons you need to learn, urging you to let go of the worry that spirals out of control when he’s not around.

Though the discomfort is real, it pales in comparison to the overwhelming love that underpins this dynamic. You focus on that love, knowing that it’s a guiding light leading you toward a healthier path.

"And you know very well that we’ve discussed this before—about how important it is for you to take care of yourself. You need sleep, especially on work nights, and I’m not going to stand by while you exhaust yourself for no reason." His voice is firmer now, just loud enough to cut through your sobs, but never harsh or angry. "I think tomorrow we’re going to have another talk about your bedtime routine. Clearly, I’ve been too lenient, and that stops now, little girl."

The words sink into you, a mix of dread and relief. Even as he speaks, the discipline continues, each strike a rhythmic reminder of his control and your need to listen. He never yells, never lashes out—just that calm, unyielding tone. It leaves no room for doubt: this is not up for debate. You don’t try to suppress your crying anymore, knowing the apartment is soundproof, and that in his arms, you are safe to let go of everything. The punishment is painful, yes, but the deeper ache comes from knowing you’ve disappointed him—and yourself.

And still, through the tears and the discomfort, you know that he’s right. You need the boundaries he sets, the safety they bring. You feel the weight of his words settle inside you, and even though you don’t want to face the conversation tomorrow, you know it’s for the best.

Your ass burns, the heat lingering even after the punishment has ended. You see now that it’s really for the best that you won’t be going to work tomorrow. His hands rub your back soothingly, the warmth of his touch a balm against the ache. Slowly, he shifts you onto his lap, wrapping you in his strong arms, the fabric of your pants slipping down one ankle as you bury your face into the comforting crook of his neck.

“I know, sweetheart. It’s alright,” he murmurs softly, his voice like a gentle caress against your ears. “You’re okay. You did so good.” Each word is a soothing balm, and you can’t help but melt into his embrace, soaking up the praise like a flower yearning for sunlight. “My good little girl, I love you, baby.”

In that moment, as you cling to him, the world outside fades away. All that matters is the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek and the steady pulse of love radiating from him. You feel safe, cherished, and most importantly, understood. The earlier turmoil dissipates, replaced by a profound sense of peace, as you allow yourself to rest in his arms, knowing he’ll always be there to guide you back to safety.

Eventually, the storm of tears subsides, and a soothing calm washes over you, leaving exhaustion in its wake. You stifle a yawn, snuggling deeper into his arms, teetering on the brink of sleep. He continues to murmur sweet reassurances, his voice a soft lullaby that wraps around you like a warm blanket as he carries you back to your side of the bed.

For a moment, you feel a twinge of abandonment as he steps away, but he’s back almost instantly, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he holds a makeup wipe in hand. The tender gesture brings a flutter of warmth to your chest as he wipes away the remnants of your earlier distress. You fight the urge to surrender to sleep, but his soothing presence makes it increasingly difficult. The room falls into a comfortable silence, filled only with the sound of your soft breaths and his gentle movements.

Once your face is free of makeup, you feel lighter, as if the weight of the evening has been washed away. He leans in, pressing a feather-light kiss on your lips, then your cheek, and finally your forehead, each kiss a reminder of his love and devotion. He crawls into bed beside you, pulling you close into his warm embrace. You instinctively wrap your limbs around him, finding comfort in his strength and warmth.

As you settle into the familiar rhythm of his breathing, you murmur out one last “Love you, Daddy…” The words linger in the air as sleep finally claims you, enveloping you in a dreamless, deep slumber, safe and secure in his arms.

-

guys i hate to say the daddy issues got to me. nobody look at me ok sometimes being an adult is really hard. i cross posted this on ao3 btw

[highvern]

Discovery

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem reader

Genre: smut, friends to lovers, established relationship

Warnings: kissing, groping, dry humping, oral (m. receiving, f. implied), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics but they’re both actually switches (Mingyu is a service top), multiple orgasms (m. receiving), cumshot, mentions of butt stuff, Mingyu is obsessed with titties, pearl necklace, spitting, cum eating (kinda), minor hair pulling, praise kink and strength kink go burrrrrr, Mingyu is a simp that loves his gf, his gf is a gremlin though he does threaten to lock her in a closet at one point but he kinda has point, they’re both horny that’s all I can say

Length: ~2.5k

Note: not a direct part 2 of Drunk Goggles ! but same couple set a few months in the future :) they’re in love and obsessed with each other. If there are any spelling errors ignore them, I don’t respect the English language &lt;3

MDNI! if I look at your blog and there isn’t an age indicator you’ll be blocked read more here

“Permission to be horny?” Mingyu mutters, lips still connected to the spot on your neck he likes to claim whenever granted the opportunity.

“Hmmmm,” You pretend to think. “I’ll allow it.”

“I really, really, really want to fuck you.” He punctuates his statement by trailing his hands down to your ass, palming the plush flesh and pulling you down harder on his clothed cock.

“I’ll definitely allow that.” You sigh, hand twisting in the short locks of hair on your boyfriend’s head.

His hips cant against yours when you arch into him, pulling the seam of your jeans just right against your clit. Mingyu is good at this. He’s good at most things, but sex is something he excels at; especially when it comes to sex with you.

You’ve never had a partner so open about their desires. Mingyu has no shame, bursting at the seams to let you know how much he wants you, needs you in moments like these. His forwardness makes you blush like a schoolgirl with a crush, and it certainly doesn’t help that he looks like that.

But as hot and sexy as your man is, he is still an incredibly huge klutz. You realize you’re falling off the couch before he does, mostly due to the fact Mingyu is planted firmly below you with his face buried in your chest. His obsession with your boobs is almost comical (and has gotten you out of more spats than you can count when you flash him in the heat of an argument) but it shuts down his brain.

“Oh shit!” You squeal, tumbling to the plush carpet. Nothing bruised except your dignity.

“What the fuck?” Mingyu calls after you, confused to find cool air rushing in where the heat of your body occupied.

All you can do is laugh, eyes covered by the crook of your elbow. You don’t see the way your boyfriend looks at you with love filling his eyes (and his dick). Or the way your chest shakes as you laugh, causing your tits to bounce with the sound of your cackling.

Your laughter dies in your throat, transforming into a hum when you feel Mingyu’s body cover your own, picking up right where he left off by taking your left nipple in his mouth, torturing the flesh with his tongue and teeth.

“Fuck, babe.” You whine pathetically. Hands moving to the waistband of his pants, fisting the material in an effort to get him naked.

His hips are cradled between your thighs, his erection hot and hard in his pants. When you plant your feet on the ground and grind against him, Mingyu sucks harder and uses a free hand to snare your wrists and trap them above your head.

“Be good.” He warns. Mingyu's attempt at domination falls flat because you know the only promise on the other side of it is that he’ll cream his pants before he gets his fill of you.

“I can be really good if you let me go.” You whisper, pushing your chest up into his face.

“Yeah?” He questions hopefully, unable to help that he’s a sucker for everything you do.

“Mhmm, want you in my mouth Gyu.”

Mingyu doesn’t respond sans the slow grind of his hips against your core, letting you feel all of him. He detaches from your nipple to bite across your chest once more, the echo of burning kisses left in his wake.

“Please, baby.” You press. “Wanna taste you.”

He might be the man of your dreams but Mingyu is still a guy. So when a beautiful woman (you) begs to suck him off, who is he to deny that experience? It’s a selfless act of him really.

Mingyu slides off you, giving you room to prop yourself up. You take him in. His hair is wild from your pulling, short tufts pointing every which way. His naked chest is flushed and heaving like your own. When your eyes trail south, his abs clench under your heated gaze. It's impossible to ignore how the movement makes his dick bob in his sweatpants, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Sit on the couch.” You demand when your eyes meet again.

Having you boss him around gets Mingyu hotter than he’ll admit (to anyone except you). He knows most people assume he’s the one who calls the shots in the bedroom; Seungcheol had cracked one too many jokes about it for him to be unaware. And occasionally Mingyu does, twisting you into whatever position is stuck in his head or telling you to touch yourself while he watches from the end of the bed and jerks off. The glint in your eye when he bends you over the kitchen counter to stuff you with his cock tells him you like it too. But the second you command him to do anything, Mingyu folds like a house of cards.

You’re not unaware of how much he likes it but it leaves you in awe every time he scrambles to do what you say. Right now, he’s tripping out of his pants and underwear as he hops on to the cushions. You thank whatever powers may be that you don’t have a roommate to consider when fucking your ridiculously hot boyfriend on every surface of the apartment (especially when Mingyu’s attempt at fucking you in the bathroom ended with cum on the mirror on several occasions but thats a story for another time).

The hand circling your jaw distracts from your goal as mouths meet. Mingyu is bent over at the waist above you, tongue tracing hotly against your lower lip. You subtly push him back into the plush upholstery, propping yourself up on your knees, hands gripping his thighs to press further into his space. With Mingyu distracted, you let one of your hands drop to circle the scorching rigid flesh at the base of his cock.

“Fuuuu–ck,” he groans into your mouth but doesn’t breakaway. As much as he wants your mouth on his dick, Mingyu really does love kissing you. Probably because he spent months thinking about it and now he actually gets to do it as much as he wants.

“Yeah?” You echo his previous words. When your thumb traces the leaking tip to spread his pre-cum he moans again.

“Yeah.” he mumbles, nodding his head in affirmation.

When you’re finally able to pull away from his lips without protest in the form of him chasing you, you descend to mouth down his neck and chest. Your boyfriend is all hot skin and taunt muscle under your ministrations, shaking breath causing his chest to lurch when your teeth scrap his nipple. Your breasts brush purposely against Mingyu’s cock as you sink lower, his head goes fuzzy and tips back. The soft pass of skin plants ideas in his head about the day you’ll let him cum on your chest. You’re already enthusiastic when he comes on the swell of your ass or in your mouth. But the visual of you covered in his spunk, chin and nipples glistening white and skin flushed flashes in his vision. Mingyu opens his eyes and starts tracing patterns across the ceiling in hopes it prevents him from making it a premature reality.

You're not much better off. The contrast of his rigid length against the soft flesh of your chest has arousal gushing from your cunt. The thought of Mingyu finishing on your skin always makes you wet. Something about your incredibly sweet and polite boyfriend being incredibly filthy with you makes your chest heave. The first time he came on your ass you had him fuck you again while it cooled between your cheeks. It was also the first time Mingyu played with that hole, found out cum and spit made decent lube, and how you cum insanely hard if he thumbs the taunt ring of muscle while he fucks you stupid on his cock.

If you had lube you’d entertain the idea of letting him fuck your tits but you know the chaff without it isn’t worth it for either of you. Instead, you let the tip of your tongue trace the bulbous head of his cock, the tang flooding your taste buds. You’re doing nothing more than teasing him but the way he’s leaking against your tongue tells you he loves it.

When you back away just enough to spit on it, a rush of breath leaves his nose as your saliva dribbles across his frenulum and you smirk. Mingyu is so fucking easy.

Since the first time you two fooled around, you’ve discovered all the ways to get him whiny and desperate, memorizing his favorites with impressive speed. Mingyu likes it wet and messy, spit and cum glossing your lips and chin, dripping in his lap to pool at the base of his dick. He prefers when you use your mouth to focus on the head of his cock, but he’ll never complain if you use a hand to jerk him off in tandem. When you’re going to play with his balls, he moans when you fondle and whimpers when you give a gentle squeeze. If you meet his eye when your lips are stretched around his cock, he’ll blush like a virgin who hasn’t fucked you six ways from Sunday. And if you let Mingyu cum in your mouth, he’ll go down on you till you're shaking and he’s hard enough to fuck you right.

Tonight you try your best to give him a top notch performance. It helps that every detail about having Mingyu like this gets you hot in the best ways. Enjoying giving as much as he enjoys receiving. Having him wrapped around your finger makes you whine along with him, sharing in his pleasure like it’s your own.

The vibrations from your soft moans and whimpers do nothing except stretching Mingyu’s resolve thinner and thinner. Tangling his hands in your hair, he gently guides you back and forth, mostly taking the strain off your neck rather than enforcing your rhythm. The tug against your scalp satisfies you all the same.

“Fuck, baby,” he cries. “So good, fuck. So fucking good.”

A harsh suck causes his dick to exit your mouth with a lewd pop before it smacks against his tummy. Mingyu is quick to grab his cock, fisting himself before tapping against your lips for re-entry. You just stare from under your lashes, eyes wet from the prodding against the back your throat, only allowing gentle kisses to the soaking flesh.

“Open your mouth.” His words may seem dominant, but the whiny tone betrays his desperation.

You continue to sit there, allowing your nails to dig into the skin of his thighs, mixing a volatile cocktail of pain and pleasure. When his other hand unravels from your hair to pry your jaw open with his thumb, you can’t help the whimper you release in response to his manhandling as he forces his cock back between your lips.

“Gonna cum?” Your question is garbled from the way he stuffs your mouth full but Mingyu puts two and two together with his limited brain capacity.

“Wanna cum in your mouth,” he begs. “Please, baby.”

When your eyes flutter shut, Mingyu knows he has permission to do what he does best. He starts fucking your mouth in earnest, soaking in the sounds of you gagging and choking around his cock as practically humps your face. If you want his come he’ll give it to you in spades, he’ll drain himself until he’s on the verge of passing out if that’s what’ll make you happy.

It only takes a minute before you feel him twitch against your lips and the hot rush coats your tongue, dripping down your throat as you swallow around him. Mingyu’s hips buck up as he gives you his load, cum seeping out of the corners of your mouth and down your face just the way he loves. You pull away just enough that some of the spray hits your chin and leaks down onto his shaft allowing you to continue to jerk him off as he sings you praises.

In your opinion, the best part about Mingyu is if you keep sucking after he comes, he’ll come again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” he bites. Mingyu loves you (not that he’s told you) but when you do this he thinks he might have to take away your dick privileges.

You pop your mouth off his cock but your hand doesn’t stop. Thumb swiping at the pearly slit right below your mouth, pushing the remains of his release across the spongy head.

“What baby?” Your brow is furrowed in mock concern, like you have no idea the torture you’re inflicting. “Just want you to cum.”

You’re evil. Pure evil sent from a past life to punish him.

“I have!” He winces. He grips the couch cushions for dear life as stars cloud the edges of his vision.

“But I want you to cum again. Don’t you wanna give me it?”

He can’t breathe.

“Please, Gyu? For me?”

You’re playing him like a damn fool.

“Just wanna feel you to cum on my tits, baby. Please!” You cry.

He’s drowning.

Mingyu’s second orgasm is less dramatic than his first. He’s writhing and shaking from the sensory overload, ass leaving the couch as his hips jerk wildly. His cum is more of a dribble than the sizable spurts you’re accustomed to but you take what he gives you with glee. You jerk him off over your chest, allowing him to paint your skin in white streaks, redden tip rubbing against the puckered flesh of your nipples to get every drop. Mingyu can barely keep his eyes open to enjoy the way you cover yourself in him, how you claim yourself as his in such a primal way.

It’s the gleam in your eyes as you pant below him, nearly drooling at the mess you’ve made that has him giving you one last sputter to trickle between your breast down to your navel.

When you go to mouth at his balls, Mingyu grabs a fist of your hair in reflex to keep himself out of your reach. He gently tugs until you slide your eyes away from his softening dick to his face.

“I will lock you in a closet if you try that again.”

Mingyu knows he sounds ridiculous but you’re insatiable and might actually kill him if you try to touch his dick again.

“You’re no fun.” You pout, unable to hide you’re disappointment when Mingyu refuses to let you play with him.

“Get your ass on this couch and I’ll show you how fun I am.”

Tonight, Mingyu discovers you really like when he collects his cum off your chest with his tongue and spits it in your mouth. You like it even more when he holds you down, pins your wrists at the dip of your spine, and eats it from the back like his life depends on it.

[avayarising]

DPxDC prompt: Here is the News

“You’re watching CDTV Now, and I’m Ace Atchinson with a special feature. Last week, the nation was shocked when a team of junior heroes affiliated with the Justice League apparently vandalised one of America’s most beloved national monuments.”

A short, jerky video plays, showing an explosion on a large stone face – one of four carved out of the side of a mountain. The smoke clears to reveal a large hole where the nose used to be. Several figures fly out of the stone and are caught by some sort of flying vehicle. It swoops across the mountain and away.

“With me live in the studio this afternoon are some of the members of Young Justice, here to tell us their side of the story. Superboy, Wonder Girl, Impulse – did you destroy Mount Rushmore?”

“Yeah, we did,” says the boy with black curly hair and a leather jacket over his brightly coloured hero suit. A bar appears across the bottom of the screen. Superboy, it says. Member of Young Justice. “On purpose, too.”

The girl, with stiff black hair and large square glasses, scowls in his direction. “We weren’t trying to destroy it,” she says as the camera closes in on her. The bar across the bottom of the screen now reads Wonder Girl and Member of Young Justice. “We were rescuing our friend.”

“She’s a ghost you see and the apes captured her and held her in this secret base –” The brown-haired boy in goggles stops when he is nudged by the girl beside him. The bar flickers for a moment to say Impulse before returning to Wonder Girl.

“OK, so, we need to go back, like, five steps here. There was a secret government base inside Mount Rushmore where they were conducting inhumane experiments on ghosts.”

The host laughs in a strained, nervous way. “Ghosts?” he asks.

They nod. “I’d like to introduce you to another member of our team,” says Wonder Girl. A mist forms behind her as she speaks, and swiftly coalesces into the form of a pale, slight girl, hovering behind the sofa. “Um,” she says nervously. “My name is – I mean, I go by – Secret, and… I’m a ghost.”

-––––

“Danny! Turn on CDTV now!”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it!”

–––––

“–torture and imprisonment, and she hadn’t even done anything! They’re just prejudiced against ghosts because they think they’re dangerous!”

“She is dangerous,’ says the black-haired boy proudly. The label Superboy appears on the screen again, in case anyone had forgotten. “She can shape-shift and go through walls and even possess people –”

“K– Superboy!” hisses Wonder Girl. “Not helping!”

“I’m right here,” says the ghost girl. The people who do the labels have obviously been hard at work, because she now has one too, saying Secret and Alleged ghost. “And I can do those things, but that doesn’t mean I want to hurt people or –”

There’s yelling from off camera, and a crash. A bolt of blue-white energy flies past the camera and the image whites out. There’s a scream, and a burst of static. The image returns, fuzzy and striated. Another bolt of energy. A large man wearing white rushes into view. Someone in green boots and a yellow and black cape lands on his head and knocks him down. A bang, and the image turns sideways as the camera crashes to the floor. The sound cuts out. There’s smoke, and running feet, and suddenly the side of the studio sofa, before another flash of blue-white light and the screen goes dead.

Nothing happens for almost a minute, and then the TV starts playing a rerun of the highlights of last week’s sports game.

––––––––

“Well, shit,” says Danny.

Superboy here is not in fact Kon but Match pretending to be Kon and trying to sabotage the team. Robin was hiding in the ceiling behind a lighting rig because Batman is going through one of his ‘we are cryptids’ phases and wouldn’t allow him to appear on screen. Anita hasn’t joined the team yet, which is good because her dad is one of the agents and it would have been awkward.

[httpvomitello]

can I get a request on rottmnt turtles with the reader having a little brother or sister

Hello, hello! Sorry for taking so long to respond, but I hope you enjoy! ♡♡♡♡

Leo’s first reaction upon seeing your little sibling is pure shock

He wasn’t expecting a tiny human to suddenly waddle into the room with a stuffed animal clutched in her tiny hands

“Whoa, who’s this little ninja?” he’d ask, crouching down to her level, his tone playful but a little unsure

Your sister, ever curious, would toddle over to him without hesitation

Leo’s heart melts instantly when she offer him her toy

He’d be surprisingly good with her, making exaggerated gestures and silly faces to keep her entertained

He even uses his sword (safely) to pretend to fight off invisible bad guys, all to make your sister giggle

Later, he’d lean over to you and say, “I gotta say, your sibling might just be cooler than you.”

Leo gets a slap on the back of the head, but the smile doesn't leave his face.

Raph freezes when he first spots your little brother

The sight of a tiny human staring up at him with wide eyes makes him feel like a giant, even more than usual

“Uh…hey, kid,” he says awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. He’s not used to dealing with toddlers

Your brother, on the other hand, finds him fascinating and waddles over, tugging at his large hand

Raph’s heart instantly softens

Within minutes, he’s letting them climb all over him like he’s a jungle gym, carefully ensuring they don’t fall

“You’re strong, little guy,” he’d say with a chuckle, lifting them effortlessly into the air.

He’d later tell you, “Your brother is so adorable!”

From that moment on, Raph tries to make up any excuse just to visit you and see your brother.

Donnie immediately gets analytical when he sees your sibling

“Ah, a miniature human specimen. Fascinating,” he’d mutter, adjusting his goggles

He’s initially unsure how to interact, but your sister curiosity draws her to his tech

She poke at his tablet, and Donnie can’t help but smile

“Careful, little one, that’s a delicate piece of machinery,” he’d say, though his tone is more amused than annoyed

He might even build a simple, safe gadget to keep her entertained

As your sister plays with his creation, Donnie observes with a fond smile

“She got potential,” he tells you. “A brilliant mind in the making, obviously took after you.”

Mikey is instantly smitten the moment your brother appears

“Oh my gosh, look at this little dude!” he exclaims, dropping to the floor to be at their level

Your brother is equally enchanted by Mikey’s vibrant energy

They're giggling within seconds as he pulls out a yo-yo and performs tricks just for your brother

He’d play games, like peek-a-boo or making silly faces, and would even draw quick doodles of them with his graffiti markers

“You’ve got the cutest brother ever, babe,” he’d gush later. “We should totally set up a playdate. I mean, I’ll do all the playing, but still.”

By the end of the visit, your brother would be clinging to Mikey, not wanting him to leave, and Mikey would promise to come back and bring even more fun next time.

[jintaka-hane]

Massive Crush

Masterlist

Summary: The captain of the Victoria Punk notices your growing interest in Luffy and Law and decides to set a new challenge for himself: winning your attention.

Notes: (*) Lyrics of Timber - Pitbull used Word count: 800

Everything in Eustass Kid’s life has to be a damn competition.

He’s got the coolest crew, the flashiest ship, and the most powerful devil fruit. He lifts the heaviest weights, can drink anyone under the table, and wins the toughest fights.

So when he spots you for the first time, radiant and beautiful, leaning against the bar and chatting animatedly with your new friends Law and Luffy, he instantly knows what his next competition will be.

Are those two losers actually rivaling for your attention? HA-HA-HA-HA! Do that flip-flop-wearing brat and the gloomy emo really think they can win you over? Just wait till they see how, in just five minutes, he’ll have you perched on his lap and sipping from his glass.

Oozing with confidence, he grabs a stool and strides over to you, shoving Luffy aside with a dismissive 'Move it, rookie' to clear the way. He sits right between you and Law, turning his back on the latter and abruptly cutting off your conversation. Then, with a shitty grin plastered on his face, he asks what you want to drink while patting his thigh, indicating you can use it as a seat.

"Rude," is all he gets from you in response, and you sidestep him to resume your conversation with Law.

Your cheekiness leaves him utterly speechless, and from that moment on, he’s OBSESSED.

He's convinced that the two captains are his competitors in this new self-imposed challenge—a notion far from reality, as Luffy just wants to make friends and Law is only interested in having an engaging conversation. And his wounded pride only strengthens his determination to have you all to himself and to show you off as a trophy to his so-called rivals.

So every night, he drags his crew to the bar, pretending he’s there just to drink the place dry, but his real interest lies in winning you over to prove his superiority in front of the two captains. And every night, he finds you accompanied by those losers, laughing and drinking with Luffy and having serious conversations about who the hell knows what with Law.

It’s pathetic how someone like you wastes their time with those two fools when someone like him is in the bar...

He could easily just grab you, throw you over his shoulder, and haul you out of there. Or he could yank you onto his lap and hold you there by force...

But that wouldn’t win him the competition.

The only way to claim victory in this battle is for you to willingly fall at his feet. For you to end up begging for his undivided attention in front of everyone.

And that requires a slightly more… subtle approach.

Something he's not quite used to.

One night, in a secretly rehearsed choreography, he approaches you, adjusting his clothes to flaunt as much muscle and skin as possible. He plants his elbow on the bar with swagger, cockily fixes his goggles, and starts talking loudly about all his conquests and victories.

It doesn’t work.

And his first mate watches from a distance, shaking his head...

Another night, Killer gives him some basic etiquette advice, like acting like a halfway civilized person and saying please and thank you when his drink is served. Before leaving the ship, he even hands over his own deodorant, and Kid grabs it with a scowl, grumbling irritably as he sprays it all over himself.

It doesn’t work either, and you end up spending the whole night chatting with the idiot in the ridiculous leopard-print pants.

He hates seeing you nodding, focused and captivated in those long conversations you have with Law, talking about subjects he doesn’t understand.

So he tells himself he has to give it his all.

He does some serious digging into your likes—your drink preferences, favorite tunes (he’s genuinely surprised you share some), hobbies, and passions. He’s determined to gather enough material to hold a conversation that's at least halfway decent and draw you in like a magnet.

But when he tries to make his move, the irritatingly loud presence of Monkey D. Luffy barges in, dragging you off to dance and stealing all your attention, leaving him fuming in the background.

Swing your partner 'round and 'round

End of the night, it's goin' down

One more shot, another round

End of the night, it's goin' down 🎶 (*)

The music plays, and Kid's eye twitches as he watches Luffy twirl you around on the dance floor, laughing boisterously.

He HATES that song.

He hates seeing how that punk with the stupid straw hat throws an arm around you, smiling in camaraderie. 

He just can't stand it.

Does Luffy know what your favorite color is? Or your favorite food? Because he does. It seems you’ve gotten inside his head—and even his pants, from which he’s tried energetically to shake you off several times.

So he needs to win this competition.

He must claim you as his prize and establish his superiority over those two useless excuses for captains.

His pride demands it.

So every night, he keeps trying, approaching you again and again under the amused gaze of the members of the three crews, who have known from the beginning that what Eustass Kid has is, simply and plainly…

... a MASSIVE, COLOSSAL CRUSH on you.

-------------

Taglist: @fanaticsnail <3

[apomaro-mellow]

This was such a cute mermay idea I had to do it

Nancy watched as they took the first mer out of the tank, nicknamed 'Billy'. His tail was a deep blue but she knew better than to attach too much connection between the coloration of the tail and their personality. He was anything but calm and soothing. If anything, she would call him a brute, but it was hard to even say that regarding an animal.

Sometimes fish could be aggressive. And clearly putting two males in one tank had amped up that aggression. Poor Steve had yet to leave his cave after Billy's last attack. They'd need a diver to help coax him out and tend to his wounds.

It takes a couple of weeks for him to recover and in that time, the team brings in a new mer, another male. Robin was vehemently against putting him in the same tank as Steve.

"He just got over what happened with Billy. What're you gonna do if this one tries to fight him again?"

"Steve isn't totally helpless", Nancy said, remembering the wounds inflicted on Billy as well. "Besides, we need to figure out if it really is just instinctual, territorial stuff or if there's something else going on."

And so the second male was put into the same tank as Steve's. At first, he was appropriately cautious, as was the other mer. They both kept to opposite sides of the tank. Then Robin began to notice some odd behaviors in them.

The new one, dubbed 'Eddie' by his wrangler Wayne, would sometimes poke and prod at Steve. He would do so and then immediately swim away, like he was bold but shy at the same time. Steve didn't lash out the way he had with Billy, so perhaps it was some form of play? It was times like these that she wished they knew more about these creatures.

Then Steve did more than just not lash out. He appeared to be playing along. Steve had never engaged in play. Honestly, to Robin he seemed a little haughty, like a prima donna of a fish. The gossamer frills of his tail, almost like a betta fish, gave him that look of someone above it all. But when he played with Eddie, he looked, well, goofy.

But he seemed happy. Healthy even.

Then, one day, while passing by on her lunch break, Robin noticed something she had never seen Steve do before. Eddie floated nearby while Steve swam in an alluring display, his tail undulating in a way that made Robin feel like she shouldn't be watching. So she didn't stay for long. There were always cameras on the tanks just in case something happened while no one was around anyway.

But she brought it up to Nancy immediately. Because if her suspicions were correct...

"It looked like a mating dance to me, Nance."

"Don't be silly, they're both males. And if that was possible, then why didn't Steve perform for Billy?"

"Uhh, he kept biting and clawing at him? Not very romantic. And let's not pretend homosexuality is a purely human invention", Robin pointed out.

Nancy was still skeptical. "Well, even if they are engaging in courtship, the fact remains that they can't reproduce together."

Unexpected babies could complicate things in the tank when they knew so little about mers to begin with. How did they even raise their young? It was the kind of question they'd learn the answer to sooner rather than later.

A few days after Robin took notice of the supposed mating rituals, a diver noticed that Steve's belly appeared to be a bit more full. They tried to get closer to inspect but in his first act of aggression, Eddie pounced with the intention to bite their head off. Thankfully, they were fully covered and got away with just a chunk taken from their goggles. Unable to inspect up close, the research team chalked it up gaining weight. It could either be from preparing for winter or having less stress to effect his appetite.

About a week after that, during a routine clean up, Nancy saw that the moment a diver went into the water, Eddie stood sentry at the cave and Steve was nowhere to be seen, presumably inside. Not wanting to agitate him, they waited until he was asleep to send a camera down. Through its night vision lens, they saw the two adult mer and what appeared to be a clutch of about five eggs, the size of grapefuit settled between them.

When the evidence came back, Nancy pointedly kept her gaze from Robin's 'I told you so' face.

"Don't look so smug unless you can tell me how this happened", Nancy said.

Robin shrugged. "I have theories."

It took about three weeks for the eggs to hatch, after doubling in size. The team kept their distance as Eddie's territorial streak rivaled Billy's when his mate was in a vulnerable state. But they checked in whenever they could. Only two of the eggs grew to full term and hatched, the other three deflating not long after being laid.

Nancy chalked it up to it likely being Steve's first mating and having come from a stressful situation. She was proven correct when a year later, he laid again, six this time, and they all made it to full term. She and Robin watched as Eddie and Steve floated together, tails in a twist and holding hands, letting the current carry them as their eight children chased each other around.

Robin nudged her partner. "We're gonna need a bigger tank."

[muzansfangs]

hi! I got a request. How would Shinobu, Mitsuri, Giyuu and Kyojuro react to some other pillar of demon flirting with their girlfriends? 🤔

If someone flirts with you.

Starring: Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader; Tomioka Giyuu x f!reader; Kanroji Mitsuri x f!reader; Kocho Shinobu x f!reader;

Format: short imagines;

Warnings: none. Basically fluff and cute reactions of the pillars being jealous and protective over you, their precious significant other;

Plot: you are into a lovely relationship with your boyfriend/girlfriend. They are so sweet and lovely towards you, but what happens when another pillar flirts with you before their eyes?

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Rengoku Kyojuro.

Who flirted with you? Obanai Iguro.

Kyojuro was a ray of sunshine. He seemed aloof from experiencing jealousy and your relationship was based solely and purely on respect and loyalty. He loved you and he never failed in declaring that, although you were together, he would have never made you feel like a spider in a cage. You were his whole damn world, after all. You were his lover, not his prisoner.

However, everybody could tell you were his girlfriend. How? Well, let’s say that Kyojuro had his ways of being politely territorial.

Wherever you stood, he was. Whenever you two were strolling down a village, or hanging around the Headquarters together, he held your hand or snaked an arm around your waist as you peacefully walked.

Nobody should have ever dared to enrage the tiger within his burning heart.

It was a peaceful night, when the crows announced that a nearby village had been attacked by a few lower ranks. You were immediately summoned to take care of them and your comrade and partner for the night was none other than Iguro Obanai. The infamous Snake Pillar. A great friend, really. Everybody wondered how you got to be so close to him and even Kyojuro stared at you two with a tight-lipped smile plastered over his face. Maybe, he had his reasons after all.

It was a homicidal grin, but you could have never imagined it. Not until that night, at least.

Once Obanai and you had arrived at the village, you chased down the demons and quickly took care of them. A neat job, indeed. However, you were now covered in blood. Obanai dashed towards you and tore a corner of his haori to clean your face from the sticky stains, before they could dry out.

When he gently tilted your head up, you blushed and stared at him in shock. You did not expect such an affectionate gesture from him. It was way too sweet to suit him.

“Don't worry about the stains. You are still pretty. Nothing could ever change that” he uttered, hooded eyes inspecting your face.

You weakly smiled, but a red blade shining under the moonlight made you goggle and scurry back in fear. Your boyfriend was smiling ear from ear, eyes wide open as he stood right behind Obanai. His blade pressed against the shorter Hashira's throat made you realise how toasted he was.

“I think you should take your leave, my friend! — he beamed, without blinking — I will take care of my girlfriend perfectly” he remarked, abruptly letting go of him. You watched the raven-haired Pillar disappear from your sight in a nick of time and soon you found yourself in Kyojuro's arms.

He did not let go of you for the whole damn night.

Tomioka Giyuu.

Who has flirted with you? Tengen Uzui.

Giyuu was not exactly the jealous type. He knew that you were a friendly person and he let you hang out with whoever you wanted to. The Water Pillar had never doubted your loyalty, but he had always suspected Tengen Uzui had a crush on you.

The way the Sound Pillar just complimented you every now and then, or the way he stood right beside you during the meetings were just some of the hints he had collected. He was sly, was he not?

However, as long as the white-haired guy did not lay a finger on you, he was going to pretend this whole situation was not bothering him. He wanted to avoid drama, but he actually became a drama queen.

Eventually, in fact, he found himself letting his stolid façade slipping off to shoot daggers at Tengen's back.

You had just come back from a mission and Tengen had not missed his chance to pest you with questions about your journey, or the battle you had enganged with the demon.

However, he was standing too close to you, invading your personal space to the point he could see how his breath fanned your hair and how you were trying your best not to falter under the Sound Pillar's pression.

Thoughts crossed Tomioka’s mind. He was going to make Makio, Suma and Hinatsuro widows.

“You are so flamboyant, damn it! I expected no less from a gorgeous woman like you... — Tengen said, leaning down towards you to whisper a rather indecent proposal in your ear — l would not mind making you my fourth wife”.

You blushed, eye twitching and cold sweat running down your spine like a waterfall. You did not know what to say, but you did not have to badger yourself to spit out something for too long, since your boyfriend simply dragged you away and showed his middle finger at Tengen. You had let out a squeak of surprise as Giyuu had literally walked by you, extending one arm out to grasp your waist and haul you over his shoulder.

Now, that was hilarious.

Never in your life you would have thought to see Giyuu insult someone. Especially someone as flashy and flameboyant as Uzui Tengen.

“Oh, that was not so flamboyant, Giyuu Tomioka!” you heard Tengen shout, as you chuckled in amusement and kissed your boyfriend’s cheek.

Kanroji Mitsuri.

Who flirted with you? Rengoku Kyojuro.

Your lovely girlfriend Mitsuri was not jealous at all. She was the Love Pillar, after all, she was probably far way more keen to spread love around the world than you.

Yet, she sometimes felt insecure. What if she was not enough? What if you could just find someone better than her? What if you got bored of her? She knew the feeling of not being appreciated for who she was. Some scars were maybe still ready to burn, if the chance was given.

Therefore, when her glimmering emerald eyes clouded over with saddness, it was a clear sign that she was kind of jealous about the way people acted around you.

Now, it was a lovely sunday morning and your girlfriend had suggested to pay a visit to the Rengoku Estate. You cheerfully agreed and, after a small trip, you finally made it to the Flame Pillar’s residence. Nothing was going to ruin such a beautiful day, or so you thought.

Hand in hand, Mitsuri and you smiled brightly at the younger Rengoku and his eyes glistened in joy. When Senjuro spotted the two of you outiside, he dropped the broom and immediately dashed back into the living room to call his brother.

It did not take a lot for Kyojuro to make his glorious appearence and, once his bright eyes landed on you, he wasted no time in sprinting towards you and involving you into a tight bear hug. In that split second, Mitsuri’s heart throbbed. Your hand left hers, but you had not paid much attention to it. After all, Kyojuro was almost squeezing the life out of you.

Therefore, you blushed and returned the embrace with equal affection, laughing slightly, as he ruffled your hair before letting you go.

“Y/N-chan, you look glamorous today! This kimono suits you better than your uniform!” Kyojuro beamed, a genuine smile on his lips.

Your cheeks heated up even more and you bashfully smiled at him “Thank you, Rengoku-san” you said, earning a joyful chuckle from him.

After that, Kyojuro told you he would have been back in a minute with some snacks and that you could make yourself home, in the meanwhile. You nodded your head, still slightly taken aback by his words, and simply stood there to watch him run back to the kitchen.

It was only then that you darted your eyes on Mitsuri and noticed how your girlfriend was staring at her feet, her eyes were twinkling but not in joy. Tears, they were huge tears threatening to spill out. She looked hurt and your heart broke in half at the way her shoulders trembled.

“Honey, are you okay? What's happened?” you asked her, grasping her hand and holding it between yours.

She sniffed, the tip of her nose reddened, as she threw her arms around you and hid her face onto the crook of your neck.

"Y/N-chan, you are not falling for Kyojuro, are you? —she feebly asked — I love you so much! I know he is fantastic and strong, but I can be cute and powerful too for you!" she piped out, making butterflies flutter into your stomach and a tear escape your own eye.

“Mitsuri Kanroji, you are the best thing that could have ever happened to me. Don't you dare doubting yourself and my unconditional love for you ever again, you silly cutie-pie» you jokingly scolded her, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

She giggled at this, wiping the tears off of her face with back of her hand as she kissed you gently.

In the end, you two got to spend and amzing day with the Rengoku silblings and your girlfriend knew you would have always chosen her over anyone else.

Kocho Shinobu.

Who flirted with you? Kanroji Mitsuri.

Was Shinobu the jealous type? Actually, she was not. She trusted you blindly, especially around your friends. However, she believed there were some lines a friend should never cross and you found yourself to agree with her point of view. Your relationship was balanced, healthy.

Kocho Shinobu was a rational and polite person who rarely made a scene. Despite that, a certain Pillar truly tested her nerves once.

You were sparring with your girlfriend at the Butterfly Estate, when the Love Pillar made her appearence. She politely asked you if she could train with you and, since your girlfriend was getting rather tired, she allowed the pink-haired girl to take her place. Mitsuri squeaked out in joy and you two started training under the attentive eye of the Insect Pillar.

The petite girl did not fail to notice how the pink-haired slayer kept on praising you and involving you into tight hugs, whenever you scored against her. Her prosperous breasts were nearly suffocating you. The irk mark on your girlfriend’s forehead was evident, but she restrained herself from making a scene. Or, at least, she tried to.

When the Love Pillar cupped your face in her hands and planted a kiss on the top of your nose to congratulate you for your victory, Shinobu lost her temper. She could not do it anymore.

“Oh, you're so talented and beautiful, Y/N-chan! — Mitsuri beamed, squeezing your cheeks affectionately — Would you like to accompany me to my next mission?” she asked, staring at you with her big doe eyes.

You did not have the chance to reply, your girlfriend did it for you.

“Ah, she is already assigned for another mission... However, I can accompany you out of my Estate now, what do you say?” Shinobu chimed, her right eye twitching.

That was frightening. Terribly frightening.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi there! Woah, I am finally updating a request. I hope you can enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it! That scenario was cute and the characters perfect. As per usual, likes, comments and re-posts are appreciated.

Until next,

x o x o

[sommerbueckers]

another part two pillow talk PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤²

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✰ 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

✰ 𝐰𝐜 :: 𝟐.𝟖𝐤

✰ 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐭𝐭

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THE DRAGO FAMILY LAKE house was beautiful; the outside appeared like an abnormally large log cabin while the inside had been completely modernized from corner to corner.

Mrs Drago groaned, "I've never seen this much dust in my life."

"You say that every year," Catherine laughed, looking at her mom.

"Every year is dustier than the last."

As Mr and Mrs Drago set their bags down and headed into the kitchen, Catherine looked expectantly to Paige, "C'mon."

She led her upstairs, allowing Paige to stare in awe at every new area she saw until they reached their shared bedroom. There was a large bed in the middle of the room, the mattress covered in baby pink sheets with teddy bears scattered on them. Full length windows made up an entire wall, looking out to the incredible backyard.

The walls were decorated in framed pictures of Catherine when se was younger. Pictures of her in a kiddy pool with goggles around her head, pictures of her holding ice cream with what looked to be a young Zane and Sasha. There were also some that had been taken in the last few years, in a bikini on a boat, by a fire beside Noella, holding a black '8' ball over her face at what looked to be a party.

The room was like a glimpse into Catherine's past, Paige could watch her grow up just by looking at the walls. Paige smiled at a picture of a young Catherine, curls wild and untamed, in the driver seat of a Jeep with her tongue out. She had to have been about eight or nine.

"That was my uncle's Jeep, I used to pretend to drive it when he'd come up to visit," she heard the girl explain, and Paige turned to see her lying on her stomach with her chin in her hands.

Paige set the picture down and slowly approached Catherine on the bed. "He doesn't come to visit anymore?" she asked.

"He does, just not as often. I don't have to pretend to drive it now though, he actually lets me drive it around now."

"Must be fun," Paige used her hands to push Catherine's hair out of her face, then she trailed her fingers down and pulled out the girl's bottom lip. "You like to drive?"

Catherine nodded silently, put in a trance by the way Paige was completely towering over her. The presence of Paige felt overwhelming, yet mesmerizing, as if she commanded the very air around them. Catherine's gaze was fixed upward, challengingly holding the blonde's eyes. In that moment, words seemed unnecessary; the intensity between them spoke volumes.

"What about riding, huh? You like to ride Cat?"

Paige trailed her thumb across the girl's lip once more, only this time, she let it push past them and slipped her finger in. Catherine sucked gently, swirling her finger around the tip. Paige was spellbound with the way Catherine's plump lips looked around her finger, she imagined what they would look like around something much thicker.

Catherine rose up on her knees, slowly taking Paige's hand from her mouth and dragging it down her body. She tilted her head back when Paige's fingers came in contact with her clit through her shorts, it didn't take a genius to realize that she wasn't wearing any panties. Paige's own arousal grew at the thought of how easily she had access to Catherine, how easily Catherine had given her access.

Her hands wrapped around Paige's neck and she pulled her close, moaning softly into her ear.

"Want you to fuck me."

Paige pushed her down onto the bed, drawing out a yelp from Catherine when her back hit the mattress. The blonde began to unbutton her shorts, Catherine following suit as she untied the string to hers. Before either girl could get any further, a knock sounded at the door.

Catherine rubbed her hands over her face, releasing a frustrating sigh before saying, "Come in!."

Her mother's face appeared, a large smile plastered across it as she entered the room. "Hi girls," she said before turning to Catherine, "your father and I are gonna go to the grocery store to get some things for the fridge and for dinner, if you two wanna come and pick some things out you're welcome to."

A silent conversation was held between the girls before Catherine answered for the both of them, "No, just get some snacks and stuff. Some fruit too."

"Will do," Phoebe nodded, giving Paige a friendly smile before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

They waited until they could no longer hear the woman's footsteps nearby, the pair holding in their laughter as best as they could.

"You still turned on?" Paige finally asked.

Catherine laughed, "Shut up and get over here."

BEING WITH CATHERINE'S FAMILY wasn't awkward to Paige — at least not while the curly head was around. The young teen stood in the kitchen, helping her mother cook dinner. They were making Ravioli pasta, a dish Paige always made from a can rather than from scratch. As Paige watched Catherine move around the kitchen with her mother, there was a warmth in the air that she couldn't quite put into words. Catherine, with her curls bouncing lightly as she moved, seemed completely at ease. She smiled at her mother, laughing softly at some inside joke they shared as they chopped vegetables and tended to the simmering pot on the stove. The scene was domestic and tender, a side of Catherine that Paige hadn't seen before. It was a simple, everyday task—cooking dinner with family—but to Paige, it was something else entirely.

Catherine’s hands moved with a practiced grace, chopping, stirring, seasoning—all under the gentle guidance of her mother. There was a harmony between them that Paige found mesmerizing. It was as if they were in sync, understanding each other without the need for words. Paige could see how much Catherine respected and adored her mother, and it made her heart swell. This was Catherine in her element, surrounded by the people she loved, doing something that was second nature to her.

As Paige watched Catherine move around the kitchen with her mother, there was a warmth in the air that she couldn't quite put into words. Catherine, with her curls bouncing lightly as she moved, seemed completely at ease. She smiled at her mother, laughing softly at some inside joke they shared as they chopped vegetables and tended to the simmering pot on the stove. The scene was domestic and tender, a side of Catherine that Paige hadn't seen before. It was a simple, everyday task—cooking dinner with family—but to Paige, it was something else entirely.

Catherine’s hands moved with a practiced grace, chopping, stirring, seasoning—all under the gentle guidance of her mother. There was a harmony between them that Paige found mesmerizing. It was as if they were in sync, understanding each other without the need for words. Paige could see how much Catherine respected and adored her mother, and it made her heart swell. This was Catherine in her element, surrounded by the people she loved, doing something that was second nature to her.

Paige felt a pang of longing, not just for Catherine, but for this sense of belonging, of being part of something so warm and loving. She realized then that her feelings for Catherine were deepening. It wasn’t just Catherine’s beauty or her sharp wit that drew Paige in—it was moments like these, seeing Catherine’s gentler side, her connection to her family, and the care she put into the small, everyday things.

The way Catherine laughed with her mother, the way she focused intently on getting the seasoning just right, and the way she nudged Paige playfully with her elbow when she caught her staring—all of it made Paige's chest tighten with affection. She wasn’t just falling for Catherine’s looks or charm; she was falling for the person Catherine was when no one was watching, the person who cared deeply and loved fiercely.

"Paige honey, would you like some wine?"

Paige perked up at the sound of Phoebe Drago's voice, smooth and suave. The woman was dressed in a large black sweater, jeans coating her legs even with the thickness that lingered in the summer air. She didn't seem to be bothered by it, only rolling them up when she had begun cooking.

Paige quirked an eyebrow at the question, glancing at Catherine who stood smiling with her hands on her hips.

"Sure," the blonde nodded unsurely.

Catherine retrieved three wine glasses from one of the cabinets, opening a fresh bottle of Brachetto d'Acqui and filling them slightly over what her mother considered an appropriate amount.

"Catherine!" the woman exclaimed, gently hitting her shoulder. "C'est trop pour elle." It's too much for her.

"Non, c'est bon," No, it's okay. Catherine waved her off, placing the glass in front of Paige. "Is that good for you?"

"Yeah, it's cool," she shrugged cooly.

Paige had rarely even tasted wine, let alone finished an entire glass. She imagined how her mother might react if she could see her now. Catherine swirled her wine thoughtfully, then lifted the glass to her lips. As she took a delicate sip, she closed her eyes in pleasure, letting out a contented hum.

Paige couldn't take her eyes off of her, watching how her tongue darted across her lips, and how her cheeks took on a light shade of red when their eyes met. Paige's eyes roamed over Catherine, drinking in every detail with fascination. She admired the way Catherine’s lips curled around the wine glass, how the light played off her flushed cheeks. She shifted her gaze subtly, mindful not to be too obvious, trying to blend her curiosity with a veneer of polite restraint. 

"So Paige," Phoebe asked, breaking the silence, "do you enjoy cooking?"

Paige hesitated, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. "Well, I've never really cooked much, unless you count instant ramen or something like that," she said, scratching the back of her neck with a chuckle.

Phoebe's smile was warm and encouraging. "Would you like to learn?"

Paige’s eyes brightened. "I’d love to," she replied, nodding enthusiastically. Though cooking had never been her passion, the prospect of stepping away from the stool and moving closer to Catherine made the idea irresistibly appealing.

"You can help me cut the dough," Catherine suggested, extending a pizza cutter. "Then we're gonna roll it so it gets kinda thin, and that's when you put the cheese filling in."

Paige was beaming down at her, a dazed look in her eyes. She should've been embarrassed when Catherine caught, and she would've if the shorter girl hadn't been giving her the same look. Those stunning brown eyes, framed by the longest eyelashes Paige had ever seen, were staring right back at her.

"That dough isn't going to cut itself girls."

When the cooking had finally finished, Phoebe turned off the stove, her movements deliberate as she retrieved her oven mitts from a drawer. "Catherine," the woman called, grabbing four plates out of the cabinet and setting them down in a stack on the counter. The curly head didn't answer. "Catherine," she called again, and still no answer. When she finally looked up, she noticed her daughter completely immersed in a conversation with Paige.

She noticed the not-so-subtle glances between them, the way their eyes met and held just a moment too long, the subtle smiles they shared over the simmering pots. She saw how Paige’s eyes would drift toward Catherine, lingering on her as if she were the only person in the room. Catherine, in turn, would catch those glances and respond with a shy smile or a soft blush, a quiet but unmistakable acknowledgment of something between them.

Phoebe observed all of this with the practiced eye of a mother who had seen these signs before. The gentle laughter they shared, the way their shoulders brushed as they moved around the kitchen.

With that, she looked to Catherine and said in a warm but firm tone, "Catherine, could you go help your father set the table, please?" The request was casual, but the underlying message was clear: she had noticed.

Catherine blinked, slightly caught off guard by her mother’s request. She wasn’t usually the one asked to set the table—that was something her father typically handled. She hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking to Paige, who was still standing by the counter. There was a brief flash of surprise in her eyes, but she quickly masked it with a small smile.

"Sure," Catherine replied, her voice calm, though there was a hint of hesitation beneath her tone. She grabbed the stack of plates off the counter, reaching for the silverware in the drawer before carrying it out to the patio.

As Catherine left the kitchen, Paige felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere. The easy warmth she’d felt moments ago was replaced by a slight tension that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Her muscles tightened, and she found herself suddenly aware of the quiet hum of the room, the ticking of the clock on the wall seeming louder than before.

Phoebe moved to clean up a bit, but there was a certain stillness in her posture, a deliberate calm that only added to Paige’s unease. Paige tried to focus on something else, but the lingering tension nagged at her, making her feel slightly out of place. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something unspoken was hanging in the air, just out of reach, but she had no idea what it was or why it made her heart beat just a little faster.

"You know..." Phoebe started, her voice unnaturally calm. "The first time that Catherine told me she'd be staying after school to watch her friend's basketball game, I thought there was no way in hell." She let out a breathless laugh before she continued. "Catherine's never been interested in sports. So, me being a mother, I just assumed she had a crush on some stupid little boy. She asked a second time, and a third, and a fourth. And when the fifth time came around, I started to think, 'What about this boy is so special that he is getting Catherine to do something that her father and I have been trying to get her to do for years?' And so I came to a game to see for myself, and then I noticed, there were no boys!" the woman was still smiling, but Paige wasn't sure how genuine it was.

"I couldn't possibly think of one thing that the two of you would've had in common, not one. Your styles are different, your interests are different, your friends are different..."

As Phoebe’s words hung in the air, Paige felt her heart rate spike, a cold wave of panic washing over her. Her mind raced, scrambling for some kind of defense, some way to explain herself, but the more Phoebe spoke, the more certain Paige became that she had figured everything out. The calm tone, the way Phoebe listed their differences with almost clinical precision—it all felt like a carefully crafted interrogation. Paige could feel her palms start to sweat, her throat tightening as if the truth was stuck there, threatening to escape.

She forced a smile, but it felt weak, barely holding together the rising tide of anxiety that threatened to spill over. All she could think was how desperately she wished Catherine would walk in, flash that confident smile, and somehow smooth over the growing tension. If Catherine were here, Paige was sure she could defuse the situation with just a few words, turning the conversation in a safer direction. But Catherine wasn’t here, and Paige was left alone, trapped under Phoebe’s knowing gaze, feeling more exposed with every passing second.

"But there actually is one thing that you guys have in common, and do you know what that is Paige?"

Paige swallowed hard, her mind racing as she tried to anticipate where Phoebe was going with this. She forced herself to meet Phoebe’s gaze, even as her stomach twisted into knots.

"I—uh, I’m not sure," Paige stammered, her voice wavering slightly despite her best efforts to stay calm. She could feel the blood pounding in her ears, every muscle in her body tensed as she braced herself for whatever was coming next.

"When you look at each other, you have that same little glint in your eye that she does. It's so obvious a blind man could see it from a mile away. Like you two are the only ones in the room, like your ears only respond to each other's voices. You're not very good at hiding it."

Paige hesitated, unsure of what she could do or say to save herself, to save Catherine. In truth, there was nothing that could be done, and the blonde soon came to that defeating realization. "Are you mad?" Her eyes searched Phoebe’s face for any sign of approval or disapproval. Phoebe's expression was unwavering for a moment, the urge to cry slowly building inside of Paige. That was until the ends of Phoebe's lips curled upward, a smile breaking out onto her face.

"Not at all."

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[fxckadoodledoomunson]

A Heart Divided -4-

Previous

|4| Cause and Effect

Summary: Chrissy gives Eddie a piece of her mind, however it ends in disaster. Meanwhile, your goal to win the race may be set for failure.

Warnings: swearing, the jocks (except Lucas and Patrick) being dicks, reader’s sister being a bitch as usual, Eddie being a dick as usual.

Tagged: @somethingvicked @ali-r3n @mirandasidefics @mewchiili @erisdogwood @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel @yourdailymemedelivery @pretendthisnameisclever

For a girl of small stature, Chrissy was able to drag Eddie out of the building with tremendous force until they were standing between the two buildings near the field where Chrissy stopped and turned to face Eddie, who was rubbing his wrist, as he winced. “Jesus, you almost broke the skin on my wrist,” he complained.

“Oh well,” Chrissy sarcastically replied, before mentioning that he could call it payback for scratching you.

Eddie huffed, as he put his hands in his pockets, before asking her, “So, you heard everything then?”

Instead of answering him, Chrissy silently held out her hand, before ordering him, “Hand it over.”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders, pretending not to know what she wanted.

“Don’t fuck with me Eddie! Hand over the diary now!” She angrily demanded.

Eddie groaned, as he reluctantly took the diary out of his pocket and threw it at her.

As soon as she caught it, she immediately opened it, before reading the pages.

Meanwhile, you nervously stood near the pool with the other competitors, as you watched a lot of people taking their seats. You looked around to find your family and Wayne standing together. However, you didn’t see Eddie next to your sister. You didn’t find it strange until you noticed that Chrissy was missing too. You turned to the cheer squad, catching Aimee’s attention. “Where’s Chrissy?” You asked her.

Aimee looked around, before she shrugged her shoulders, unsure where the head cheerleader was. You scanned the place for her when you heard the referee tell everyone to go to their designated spots.

In the audience, the jocks were chatting away when Andy, who left earlier to have a smoke, approached Jason. “Jason,” he said in a hushed tone.

Jason shushed him, before Andy tried to speak again, “Jason, listen-“

“Shh man,” Jason silenced him, telling him that the race was about to start.

Andy groaned, as he sat back.

Back in the pool, you were getting ready to dive when you noticed a grandfather clock at the end of the pool. The ticking of the clock grew louder, drowning out the referee’s voice.

You stood still, fixated on the clock that you didn’t notice the whistle blow or the opponents diving into the pool until the coach went up to you and shouted, “What are you doing?! Get in!”

You snapped yourself out of the illusion, finding the clock was gone. You immediately lowered your goggles over your eyes and dove in, trying to overtake your opponents.

Back outside, Chrissy thoroughly read the pages before letting out a scoff.

“I know, it’s unbelievable,” Eddie said. “I didn’t think that she had it in her to write that.”

Chrissy looked up at him angrily, as she asked, “You know what’s unbelievable?”

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows when she told him, whilst whacking his arm with the diary, “That you… really think… that she would… write any… of… that...shit!”

“Jesus H Christ, Chrissy! Stop!” Eddie bellowed, as he was backed up against the wall.

Chrissy opened the diary, and shoved it in his face, as she asked, “You really think that I couldn’t tell if my best friend wrote this or not?”

Eddie was about to speak up when Chrissy held the diary up once more, as she pointed out that ,not only there were plenty of spelling mistakes, but there were no doodles on the pages.

“Do you really think that someone who was asked to tutor you would make lots of mistakes?” She asked. “And I know for a fact that she would draw in her pages as well.”

“So what are you saying?” Eddie asked. “That her sister just copied her handwriting and showed me the diary just to break my friendship with her?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me.”

Chrissy then pointed out that your sister was jealous of you for some reason.

Suddenly, Eddie had let out a scoff, before asking the cheerleader, “Are you sure that it’s not the other way around?”

Chrissy gaped, not believing what he just asked, before silently glaring at him. She then raised her hand and slapped Eddie’s cheek.

Meanwhile, you had managed to overtake most of the opponents, as you swam vigorously, just behind two or three other swimmers.

As the jocks continued to watch you, a frustrated Andy tried to get Jason’s attention. “What?!” Jason growled. “What is so important that you-“

“Your girl’s with the freak,” Andy blurted out.

Jason’s face softened, as Andy mentioned that he saw them outside.

Jason searched where the cheerleaders were, realising that Chrissy wasn’t with them, before looking to where Wayne was sitting next to an empty seat, noticing that Eddie wasn’t sitting with him. He then remembered that, not only Eddie went to see you before the race, but also Chrissy went to the changing room before you and Eddie went in. However, he never saw either of them come out.

Suspicious of the situation, Jason turned to his teammates, telling them to follow him, as he stood up and started walking out of the building, with a confused Lucas and Patrick following him.

“Did her sister really screw you too many times that it shrunk your brain?” Chrissy scolded Eddie, who was rubbing his cheek. “I can’t believe that you would treat someone who was willing to help you graduate like shit. And instead of asking her about the diary, you jumped to conclusions, thinking the worst of her.”

Before Eddie could answer back, she told him, “She really liked you, Eddie. Even before I knew how she really felt about you, she always had been kind to you.”

As she stepped closer to him, she confessed, “Why do you think I went to you for weed and not asked someone else to get it for me instead? I came to you, even though I initially thought that you were going to be mean and scary, because I knew that if she could go to you without being intimidated, then maybe I could have the guts to ask for help.”

There was a brief moment of silence as Eddie suddenly gave her a snarky smirk.

Meanwhile, you were still swimming with all your might, overtaking all your opponents when suddenly, you heard the clock ticking again. You tried to ignore it, and carried on swimming until you heard the same dark voice calling you. You slowed down, as you noticed that the lights were flickering and the water was turning red. You weren’t sure if it was a prank or not. You questioned what was happening when suddenly, an aquatic demon swam passed, causing you to open your mouth, almost making you choke. Unsure what was happening, you swam up to the surface and climbed up the ladder, not realising that you were back to reality. There was a hubbub in the crowd, who were confused by why you were getting out.

You coughed , as you quickly walked past the pool, trying to control your breathing when the coach shouted, “What are you doing?! You almost had it!”

Back outside, Eddie approached Chrissy, as he smirked at her. “The guts to ask for help, huh?” He mocked, before asking if you knew that she went to him for drugs.

“Yes, I told her,” she admitted. “And about the nightmares.”

“Which Carver still has no clue about, right?”

Chrissy chewed the inside of her cheek, not answering the question. Eddie’s expression turned serious, before asking, as he moved closer, “Tell me Chrissy, did you tell your best friend what happened when you were in my trailer?”

Chrissy glared at him, as she was about to answer when they heard someone shouted, “Hey freak!”

It was Jason.

Eddie stepped away from Chrissy, who was clenching the diary against her chest, as the jocks approached them. “Looks like the Calvary have arrived,” Eddie sarcastically said, as the group moved closer.

“What’s going on, Chris?” Jason asked. “Why are you here with the freak?”

Before Chrissy could respond, Eddie interjected, “We’re just talking-“

“I didn’t ask you,” Jason retorted, as he pointed at him, before turning to his girlfriend.

Chrissy looked up, and told him, “Like he said, we were just talking.”

Jason scoffed, before asking, “Talking? What could be so important to talk about that could make you miss your best friend’s race?”

Before Chrissy could say anything, Andy snatched the diary out of her hands from behind. “Hey!” Chrissy exclaimed.

Andy lifted the diary up, waving it away from Chrissy’s grasp as he mocked her.

“What do we have here? The freak’s book of rituals?” Andy snickered.

“Give it back!” Chrissy shouted, as she tried to grab it when she lost her balance, almost falling down to the ground, only to be caught by Eddie.

Immediately, Jason pushed Eddie against the wall, shouting, “Don’t you dare touch her!”

Meanwhile in the changing room, you were sitting on the bench in your school tracksuit, taking deep breaths while Robin, Vickie, Erica and Max, as well as Mike and Dustin comforted you. Earlier, the coach and your father kept questioning you why you threw the competition, and the more they asked, the more agitated you got, which prompted Steve to step in and stopped them interrogating you.

As you kept taking deep breaths, your sister hummed with satisfaction, before saying in a mocking tone, “Oh dear, I guess you can kiss that scholarship goodbye.”

You looked up in anger, whilst your father scolded her, “You be quiet!

However, she didn’t stop there. She continued, whilst checking herself in the mirror, “I mean, let’s face it. You didn’t think that you had a chance in winning the competition, did you?”

You were about to go up to her and slap her when you were stopped by Erica’s voice. “Well, she definitely had more of a chance in winning the competition than you do in winning Miss America.”

You and your friends stifled their laughter, as your sister stomped towards Erica, as she asked mockingly, “Didn’t your parents teach you to keep quiet when grownups are talking, little girl? You should run along and play with your Barbie dolls, and butt out.”

Erica scoffed, before telling her, “It would definitely beat participating in your boyfriend’s abysmal campaign, which no doubt was inspired by you.”

Mike and Dustin spluttered in laughter, which pissed off your sister.

Outside the building, Jason still had Eddie pinned against the wall, while Chrissy was still trying to grab the diary from Andy and Chance who kept throwing it back and forth between them when Patrick caught it, putting it in his jacket pocket, causing Chrissy to shake her head as Andy scoffed, “You never let us have any fun, Patrick.”

Lucas slowly approached Jason and Eddie, as he spoke up, whilst raising his hands at chest height, “Jason, listen…let go of Eddie. Someone-“

“Quiet, Lucas,” an agitated Jason retorted, as he turned to him, before shifting attention back to a snickering Eddie. “I’m gonna give you to the count of three to tell me why are you talking to my girlfriend or I’ll-“

“You’ll what? Throw me into the laundry basket?” Eddie snickered. “I like to see you try, big boy.”

Jason was getting more aggravated by Eddie’s remarks, as he seethed, before starting the countdown, “One…two…three-“

“I asked him to meet me!” Chrissy cried.

Jason, who had let go of Eddie, turned to his girlfriend, as she confessed, “I went to see him before and after the game last semester.”

Jason stared at her, as she continued to confess, “I’ve had been seeing things, horrible things, that frightened me so badly…”

Lucas gazed at her with concern, wondering what kind of things had been seeing, and if it had anything to do with the Upside Down, as Chrissy, quietly sobbed, “I went to Eddie to get something to help me…”

“Get something?” A concerned Jason asked. “You mean drugs, Chris?”

Chrissy lowered her head, before nodding it.

Jason exasperatedly inhaled, before shaking his head, telling her through gritted teeth, “That can’t be true. Please tell me that it’s not true.”

The rest of the boys stared at Chrissy, who admitted that it was true.

Jason turned to Eddie, before turning back to a nervous Chrissy, getting in her face, as he angrily said, “I’m your boyfriend, Chrissy. If you were frightened about something, you should’ve come to me. Not Eddie! Not that freak!”

“Jason…” Lucas calmly spoke.

“Stay out of it, Sinclair!” Jason shouted, frightening Chrissy.

“And you wonder why your own girlfriend didn’t come to you,” Eddie commented. “The way she is right now, she-“

With one swift move, Jason turned and jabbed Eddie in the face, causing him to hit his back against the wall.

“Eddie!” Chrissy cried, as she moved forward, only to be grabbed by Andy, while Jason continued his fight with Eddie, who managed to dodge him.

As Chrissy struggled to get out of Andy’s bear hug, Patrick tried to pull Andy off, telling him, “Andy, let go of her-“

Unfortunately, Chance pulled him away from Andy, causing him to be up against the wall. Luckily, Lucas caught Patrick, before he could hurt himself.

“Try and hold them off,” Lucas told a confused Patrick, before sprinting off.

Patrick called out to him, when Andy told Chance to go after him. As Chance went after Lucas, Patrick tried to pull Jason away from Eddie, warning him that he could get expelled, before being pushed away by the furious captain.

Back in the changing room, you and your friends continued to watch the spat between Erica and your sister who asked, whilst suppressing her anger, “Shouldn’t you be having a play date with a fellow kindergartener or something?”

“Uh, I’m eleven, you clown face bitch!”

“Erica!” Steve scolded the youngster.

“Just the facts!” Erica retorted, before telling your sister. “Oh, and by the way…”

She then pointed to her own teeth, as she hinted, “You might wanna check where the rest of your lipstick…”

Your sister gasped, as she covered her mouth, turning back to the mirror to check her makeup.

Your mother was about to scold Erica for insulting your sister when suddenly, Lucas ran inside. As he stopped for breath, Dustin asked, “Lucas, what is it?”

“Eddie…Chrissy…Jason, he…” he breathlessly said, trying to get his words out. “…beating…”

Fearing that your best friend and Eddie were in danger, you got up from the bench and immediately sprinted out of the changing room, before anyone could say anything.

Meanwhile, Patrick was trying to prevent Jason from beating Eddie up, while Chrissy was trying to free herself from Andy’s grasp.

“Jason, stop!” Patrick pleaded. “You’re gonna kill him.”

However, Jason had pushed Patrick away once again, before continuing to punch Eddie.

A tearful Chrissy begged Jason to stop, before gathering the strength to stomp on Andy’s foot, so she could make her escape. However, Andy managed to grab her wrist, aggressively pulling her back when Patrick walloped Andy in the face. After Patrick told her to run, Chrissy hesitated to leave Eddie. But when he told her the second time, she ran as fast as she could, ignoring Jason shouting her name when she bumped into you.

“Chrissy, are you okay?” You asked her petrified best friend.

Before Chrissy could respond, you heard Patrick begging Jason to stop, before he received a whack from Andy.

After you told Chrissy to go inside, you turned to witness the fight. As soon as you saw Eddie’s bloodied face, you flew into a rage, running towards Jason, pushing him off Eddie. Despite the way Eddie had been treating you recently, you couldn’t help but protect him.

“Stay out of it,” Jason told you, before trying to reach for Eddie, only for him to be blocked by you, as you tackled the jock to the ground, before punching him repeatedly in the face.

Eddie sat up against the wall, unsure what to make of the situation. Why? He thought. After all the grief I’ve been giving her lately, why would she save me?

Andy, free from Patrick’s grasp, went to pull you off Jason when Eddie growled, as he gathered the strength to pounce on Andy, which led you to continue to deck Jason, who kept begging you to stop.

You were about raise your fist once more before giving him another hit when you heard someone shouting out, “Stop! Enough!”

You turned to find Higgins, as well as your family and friends standing near you, while Steve, Dustin and Wayne rushed over to pick Eddie up, as Higgins bellowed , “MY OFFICE! NOW!”

As soon as you got to your feet, you heard Jason said breathlessly, “Munson was right…You really are a psycho.”

You swiftly turned around and snarled, as you about to lunge at him when Wayne pulled you back by your shoulders, as he tried to calm you down, “You don’t wanna get yourself into any more trouble than you already are.”

You turned to face Eddie, before angrily turning away, heading to the principal’s office when your face softened as soon as you saw the terrified Chrissy, assuming that you’ve also lost her as your best friend.

A few moments later in the principal’s office, you were being lectured by Higgins, with your parents giving you disapproving looks, while your sister tried to hide her smirk.

“Never in all my years as principal, have I seen such behaviour, especially coming from someone like you!”

A tear fell from your eye, as Higgins continued to lecture you, before he began to inform you of your punishment.

Back outside, everyone else, including Nancy who had found out from Max what happened earlier, was waiting for you, as they were overhearing Chrissy and Jason arguing when Dustin and Steve walked through the hallway.

“How’s Eddie?” Nancy asked.

“Still beaten up pretty bad,” Steve replied. “Wayne’s taking him to the hospital. With the work Jason did on him, looks like it’ll take a while until Eddie’s face fully recovers.”

Dustin was about to comment on the incident when the argument between Chrissy and Jason escalated.

Everyone turned to find Chrissy walking away from Jason when he suddenly grabbed her shoulders and pushed her to the wall, as he snarled, “I’m not finished!”

“HEY!” Steve bellowed, as he immediately marched towards them, before telling him to take his hands of a tearful Chrissy.

“Are you deaf, asshole?! Take your goddamn hands off her!”

Once Jason took his hands off Chrissy’s shoulders, Steve asked him, “Is this how you treat your your girlfriend when no one else’s around?”

“Ex girlfriend,” Chrissy corrected him.

“You’re not breaking up with me, you little-“ Jason started growling when Steve grabbed him by the collar of his letterman’s jacket, aggressively pushing him up against the lockers, when Nancy called out to Steve, pleading for him to stop, “He’s not worth it.”

Steve deeply inhaled, as he let go of Jason before threatening him, “You touch her again, and you’ll will be sorry.”

Jason turned to Chrissy, who was being comforted by Nancy, before shifting his attention back to Steve, walking away from him, whilst fixing his jacket.

Steve’s face softened, as he turned to Chrissy and asked if she was okay.

Chrissy silently gazed at him with tears brimming in her eyes when Nancy suggested, “Chrissy, why don’t I take you home?”

Although she never gave her answer, Chrissy still went with Nancy, as they left the building. Steve watched them walk away as Dustin asked, “What was that all about?”

Instead of answering, Steve paced back outside the office, waiting for news on you.

Back outside, Patrick was sitting on wall with Aimee, who told him that he should go to the hospital for his injuries.

“I’ll be fine, Aimee,” Patrick replied.

Believe me, I’ve had worse, he thought to himself.

Suddenly, Nancy and Chrissy were walking past them, catching Patrick’s attention.

“Chrissy?” He called out, as he got up and ran towards them. “Chrissy wait!”

Both girls stopped and turned to Patrick, who taking something out of his pocket, as Nancy spoke, “Look, if Jason asked you-“

“Here,” Patrick told Chrissy, as he handed her the diary. “I wanted to make sure that you got this back.”

As Chrissy received it, she gave him a small smile, before meekly replying, “Thank you.”

As Patrick went back to Aimee, Nancy escorted Chrissy to her car. As soon as they got inside , Chrissy was gazing at the diary when she had an idea.

Back inside the school, you and your family stepped out of the office. As soon as Higgins had shut the door, everyone immediately ran up to you, asking you what happened.

You looked up at everyone, before revealing that you got suspended for two weeks.

“Really? You’re still gonna graduate, right?” Robin asked.

You silently nodded as you gave her a sad smiled.

“Then, what’s the problem?”

You were about to explain everything when your sister had beaten you to the punch. “Well, let’s just say,” she revealed with a sly smile on her face. “She wouldn’t have banned from going to prom or lose her scholarship if she didn’t get into trouble.”

Your father scolded your sister, telling her, “Knock it off.”

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” You sarcastically asked her. “Just because you dropped out of college, doesn’t mean that you can ruin everything from me.”

Your mother told you to stop when you angrily retorted, “No! I’m sick of her making my life hell for the past few years!”

You then turned to her, as you asked, “We used to be close. What’s changed?”

Your sister cackled, before asking you, “I ruined everything for you? Or do you mean I ruined your chance with Eddie?”

You gasped, with tears brimming in your eyes, as your sister scoffed, “Face it, sis…you didn’t have a chance with him anyway, or anybody else for that-“

Having enough of her, you snarled as you raised your hand and slapped her across the face, making her gasp.

“Fuck you!” You shouted when your mother abruptly slapped your cheek hard, shocking everyone, including you. Never in your life had either of your parents raised a hand to you until that moment.

Your father pulled your mother back, as she covered her mouth, realising what she had done. She tearfully took a small step forward, as she stammered, “D-darling-“

However, you stepped away from them, as you bellowed, “Fuck you both as well!”

Before your parents could say anything, you turned on your heel and ran out of the school in tears, when Steve immediately ran after you, as he called your name.

Meanwhile, Nancy was putting on her seatbelt when she realised that Chrissy was just sitting there, staring blankly at the diary. She placed her hand on her shoulder, startling the cheerleader.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Chrissy shook her head, before asking her, “You know that you used to worked at the Hawkins Post?”

“Well, I interned there, but yes,” Nancy recalled. “Why do you ask?”

Chrissy sighed, before handing Nancy the diary for her to see.

“Do you recognise the handwriting?” Chrissy asked, as Nancy flipped through and read some of the pages. Nancy turned to her and told her that it looked like it was your handwriting, before mentioning, “But…there’s no way that this could be hers. I mean, there’s too many-“

“Spelling mistakes? Not to mention that there are no drawings. Whether it’s a book or just a piece of paper, she always drawing on it.”

Nancy nodded, when Chrissy told her, “I think her sister has something to do with it.” She then told the eldest Wheeler, that Eddie had it in his head that you actually wrote it.

“Seriously?” Nancy asked. “This is why he’s been cold to her?”

Chrissy nodded her head, before telling her, “If we can somehow get something with her handwriting on it, and find the similar mistakes, then maybe…”

“We can prove to Eddie that her sister wrote all of this, making him realise that he made a mistake…”

“And that he picked the wrong sister,” Chrissy triumphantly finished the sentence, before asking, “So, will you help me?”

Nancy smiled as she nodded, before mentioning to her, “But we need to plan this, we can’t just dive right into it-“

Nancy abruptly stopped, as she saw you run through the car park, with Steve chasing you, as he called for you, while she and Chrissy watched.

“Just leave me alone!” You shouted, as you continued to run when Steve caught up to you and pulled you back.

“Hey hey, stop,” Steve said, he turned you around, before wrapping his arms around you, hugging you tight.

You sobbed against his chest, as you hugged him back.

Chrissy looked on, as you and Steve continued to hold each other, as Steve rubbed your back. She then turned to Nancy, who had sadness in her eyes. Taking notice of her expression, Chrissy asked her if she was okay. However, Nancy only gulped, not answering her. After Chrissy turned her head to witness you and Steve pulling away from each other. What the girls, and Steve for that matter, didn’t anticipate was you turning away, running towards Steve’s car, unlocking the door with his car key.

“What the-?” A confused Steve spoke, as he checked the pockets of his jeans, realising that you stole his keys when he hugged you.

“Hey!” He yelled, as he ran towards you, only for you to start the car, and backing it up.

“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Steve asked, as Chrissy and Nancy got out of her car, and sprinted to him.

“I’ll give it back to you somehow,” you retorted, as you drove out of the car park.

Nancy called Steve’s name, prompting him to turn to her as he scratched his head, while Chrissy chased you, begging you to come back. However, you were too far away for your best friend to be able to follow you.

It had been almost a week since you went missing. Your friends had been putting up posters of you, in the hopes that someone would see you. While Steve and Wayne drove together outside of Hawkins to ask if anyone had seen you, Dustin, along with his long distance girlfriend Suzie, were checking on police reports in case you were spotted. Mike even called the Byers in California, asking them if they could inform him if they see you.

One early evening, Chrissy and Nancy, along with Max visited your family. While Chrissy was trying to comfort your mother while your sister was lying on the couch, filing her nails, Max was on lookout while Nancy was searching your sister’s room for anything with her handwriting on it.

Back downstairs, Chrissy was in the hallway wondering what was taking them so long when she noticed your father, sitting in his office, in tears.

Chrissy lightly knocked on the door, prompting him to look up, and wipe his tears with his sleeve. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, only…” Chrissy began to speak when your father silently shook his head and stood up.

“You haven’t,” he replied, before revealing that he was going through a scrapbook of your achievements.

“Would you like to see them?” He asked. Chrissy smiled politely as she approached his desk. Your father then proceeded to show her the scrapbook, filled with pictures of you and clippings of articles including your swimming competitions, including a picture of you and Chrissy in your freshman year, holding your medal in your hand while she had her arm around you.

Chrissy smiled, thinking about that memory…

It was the first the competition you had won in your high school freshman year.

However, you had no one, other than the coach and your teammates who you hardly knew, congratulating you. While your parents were busy schmoozing with Higgins, and your sister was flirting with some guy from the baseball team, you stood out like a sore thumb when a sweet voice spoke up, “Hi!”

You turned to find the petite strawberry blonde girl in a cheerleader outfit standing in front of you, smiling. You recognised her as your neighbour, but the two of you hadn’t interacted before then. “I just wanted to come over and say congratulations.”

What you didn’t expect was for her to hug you.

After she pulled away, you responded, “Oh…thank you. Chrissy, isn’t it?”

“That’s me,” Chrissy giggled. Suddenly, a photographer from the school paper came over and asked if she could take a picture of you. After giving her permission, you turned to Chrissy and asked if she wanted to be in the picture too.

“Really?” Chrissy asked, before you gestured her to join in the picture, which lead the two of you to become friends…

Back in the present, Chrissy watched your father burst into tears. As she patted his back, she softly told him, “She’ll come back.”

“I hope so,” your father sniffled. “Otherwise I’m a failure as a father.”

Your father wiped his eyes, as Chrissy sympathetically gazed at him when she noticed a yearbook from the Class of ’84.

As she picked it up, your father revealed that he would look through it, wondering what happened to your sister. “I don’t know what I did wrong with her,” he told her. “Maybe I spoiled her for too long, or maybe I didn’t pay her enough attention…”

Chrissy flipped through the pages when she noticed one of the messages had the similar spelling mistakes as the ones in the diary. She scanned down to find that it was signed by Roxy, which baffled Chrissy.

She looked up at your father, before asking him if she could borrow the yearbook.

Without questioning, your father said, “Go ahead.” He then stated that your sister wouldn’t miss it anyway.

She thanked him, before leaving him in peace. As soon as she returned to the hallway, Chrissy quickly stuffed the book in her bag when Nancy and Max came downstairs, confirming that they’ve found some notes from your sister. Chrissy took the notes and put them in her bag when they heard your mother asking your sister, “Honey, can you go over to Forest Hills and give this stew to Wayne?”

“Mum, I’m busy,” your sister retorted, as she was polishing her nails.

“And when are you going to see that boyfriend of yours? Not once have you been to visit him since he was admitted to hospital.”

“There’s no way that I’m going in that diseased ridden place. Eww...” Seeing your sister’s grossed out expression made Chrissy’s blood boil. So you steal him from your sister, but you can’t be bothered to visit him? She thought, as she clenched her fist.

“Well, could you at least give Wayne the stew after you’ve finished with whatever you’re doing?” Your mother asked as politely as possible.

Your sister started to whine when Nancy spoke up, as she approached your mother, “Actually, I have to take Max home, so we can drop it off to Mr Munson for you.”

“Thank you, Nancy,” your mother beamed, as she gave her the dish. “That’s very kind of you.”

Your sister silently mocked her mother, as she continued to polish her nails, while your friends said their goodbyes, before leaving the house.

A few moments later, Nancy, Chrissy and Max were in Max’s trailer, investigating the writings. Chrissy was adamant that your sister was the one who wrote the diary. However, after reading Roxy’s message in the yearbook, she was unsure.

“We definitely need to find more evidence,” Nancy said, as she rearranged the pieces of paper, comparing the different writings.

Max suggested following your sister, so they can seize the opportunity to find Roxy.

“Even if she can lead us to Roxy,” Chrissy responded, as she paced up and down the room. “They’ll both deny it.”

“Well, we need to think of something,” Max said, as Chrissy stopped and stared at a Family Video tape cover on the counter, giving her an idea. “Otherwise, we’ve got no-“

“I’ve got it!” Chrissy interjected, causing the other girls to turn and face her.

“What is it?” Nancy enquired as Chrissy picked up the cover.

“You want us to rent a movie?” Max sarcastically asked.

“No,” Chrissy retorted, before she was about to reveal her idea.

Later on in the evening, Eddie was being escorted by one of the nurses after leaving the patient’s bathroom.

“Do I really need to have someone accompanying me every time I need a piss?” Eddie asked.

“Well someone has to make sure that you don’t pass out or sneak off for a smoke,” the nurse retorted, as she opened the door for him.

“That happened like once,” Eddie scoffed, as he headed to his bed and sat on it.

“Well remember, you’re going home in the next couple of days, so don’t do anything that will hinder your recovery. And make sure that you get some sleep.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Eddie saluted the nurse, making her laugh, before she bid him good night. After she switched off the main light, before closing the door.

Eddie sighed, as he leaned back against the bed. He then looked over to his table, filled with homework brought over by Jeff.

During his stay, the only people who had visited him were his uncle, his bandmates, and Dustin, even though he had been chewing his ear off for the way he treated you.

Not even his so called girlfriend came to see him once or even phoned the hospital to check if he was okay.

Thinking back, he wondered why he got with her in the first place. At first, it was because he was so angry with you that he wanted to get back at you for hurting him. And then, he started enjoying fooling around with your sister.

But as he thought about it, he should’ve handled things better with you, asking you about the contents of the diary instead of jumping the guns and accused you of all sorts. And when he questioned you about the diary, you never asked him where he got it or give it back to you.

What baffled him even more was that you jumped in to save him from Jason’s beatings, even after he told you that you meant nothing to him.

All of a sudden, tears were swelling up in his eyes, thinking about the repercussions of his actions. He deeply sniffed, as he wiped his tears from his eyes.

He shut his eyes for a few moments, trying to get some shut eye when he heard a squeaking sound from outside his room.

He abruptly opened his eyes and scanned the room when he noticed a hooded figure standing outside the door, which freaked him out.

As the hooded figure turned away, Eddie quickly got up from his bed, and paced to the door, opening it. But by the time he got out, the figure had vanished from around the corner. A confused Eddie looked left and right, checking if anyone else was around. However, the hallway was empty.

After he shut the door, he made his way to his bed, as he scratched the back of his neck. After getting back in the bed, he decided to do some homework just so he could fall asleep.

He picked up one of the books when he noticed the diary underneath. He figured that Chrissy must’ve given it to one of the boys to return it to him.

After picking up the diary, he placed the other book on top before examining the cover. He noticed that it was different. It was decorated with drawings of mermaids.

At first, he thought it was someone else’s diary being put there by mistake. However, when he opened it, he recognised your writing, but he noticed that the entries were not the same ones he had seen first time. At first, he thought that it was second diary to throw him off the scent. But then he remembered what Chrissy told him, about how the other diary your sister showed him, how it had many spelling mistakes, as well as lack of drawings. Where as the diary in front of him had all the words spelt correctly, and had drawings on almost every page, including one of him.

Eddie read through the pages, astonished by your creativity, realising that the entries reflected your experiences, including the first time you went to Hellfire on same day you started tutoring him…

The valour bard and his band of brothers were so kind to the mermaid. It had started when the witch asked you to help him in his quest for knowledge. Although the valour bard was having trouble, the mermaid knew that he was trying, and she vowed to help him every step of the way. The night ended with the valour bard telling everyone including the mermaid, tales of another world. She hung on his every word, wishing she could listen to his tales all night…

Eddie lightly chuckled, remembering that he once called you a mermaid due to you being a swimmer. He flipped through another page and found another entry, accompanied with a drawing of Eddie playing his guitar…

The mermaid heard music playing from the shore. As she swam over to the island, she saw the bard and his friends playing their instruments. Although there were locals on the shore, none of them were listening. The mermaid thought it was their loss, missing out on talent. As she watched the performance, the mermaid was fixated on the valour bard. His musical skills, his voice…to her, he was like an angel…

Eddie heaved, reading your entries, as he remembered the first time you watched the band at the Hideout, and the way you gazed at him with admiration.

He carried on flipping through the pages, filled with more drawings of him, as well as Chrissy, Steve, and even Wayne. He had let out a small chuckle, admiring your talent, before reading the next entry, which looked like it was written during the period when you were at training camp…

The mermaid had to return to the deep sea for a gathering of her fellow merfolk. And although she enjoyed spending time with her own kind, she missed the valour bard and his songs, as well as his tales. She started counting the days until she reunited with him…

Eddie continued turning the pages with tears brimming in his eyes when he stopped to read the next few recent entries, questioning the bard’s recent terrible treatment towards the mermaid, how he may have been seduced by the succubus.

He sniffled, as he flipped to the last entry…

Banishment…that was the price the mermaid paid for defending the valour bard from the evil captain and his soldiers. She could’ve had left him to be slaughtered, but what would’ve she had gained? She instead fought to protect the man who she knew could never feel anything for her…

Tears ran down his cheeks, regretting his last conversation with you. He was about to close the diary when he noticed that there was an envelope in between the last page and the back cover.

He took it out and opened it, taking out a letter addressed to him, before reading aloud…

Dear Eddie,

I know that I’m the last person you want to hear from. But you don’t need to worry, because by the time you read this, I’ll be long gone.

I know you said that I don’t mean anything to you anymore, but you meant something to me, even if you don’t believe me. You’re probably wondering why you have my actual diary. You see, after seeing you being Dungeon Master, I was inspired to write and draw, hoping that I can tell amazing stories like you. But I guess it doesn’t make a difference, seeing as you’re with my sister.

If you and her hadn’t been treating me like shit, I wouldn’t have minded that you were together, even though it would not only break my heart, but it would also make me suspicious, as you may have forgotten, she wasn’t always been nice to you…

Thinking back, Eddie remembered how your sister had interacted with him, how she used to make snide remarks about him, and how you used to stick up for him.

He cleared his throat, as he continued to read…

But after you showed me that other diary, it made me wonder if she had anything to do with it, like she wanted payback for some reason.

I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. I cannot stay somewhere where I’m not welcome nor can I be somewhere where no one’s on my side, especially after my fight with Carver. I maybe back some day, not sure when. But for now, I need to keep my distance.

Just promise me one thing, Eddie… Don’t fuck things up for yourself and your chance of graduating. It would be a shame for your hard work to go to waste.

All the best, Love…

Eddie whispered your name, as tears fell down from his eyes, staining the letter.

He scrunched the letter against his chest, as he leaned forward, bawling his eyes out, repeating, “I’m sorry…”

Meanwhile, outside the hospital, the hooded figure stared up at the window, before getting inside Steve’s BMW, moving the hood back, revealing your face.

As you started the car, you whispered, “Goodbye…”

You then backed out, before driving off to your destination.

Next

[cosmerelists]

Are Various Cosmere Characters a Cat Person or a Dog Person?

Sanderson was once asked whether Kelsier and/or Marsh would be a cat or a dog person, although not everyone was satisfied with his answer (@zephyscosmere). So, inspired by that post, I thought I'd deliver my own headcanons about whether various Cosmere characters would be a cat or a dog person if, you know, such animals existed in their part of the Cosmere.

(I should mention for full transparency that I am 100% a cat person. Will that affect my headcanons? Probably!)

1. Adolin: Dog Person

Not only is Adolin a golden retriever, but he would also have a golden retriever, and he would play approximately one thousand hours of frisbee with it per day.

2. Sadeas: Cat person

I simply cannot shake the image of Sadeas & Ialai plotting together...but also there is a big white fluffy Persian cat with them. If that's wrong then I don't want to be right.

3. Shallan: Cat Person

I'm torn on this, and I'll be interested to hear what you all think. But I feel like when Shallan was essentially on house arrest for most of her life, she had cats, and that they kept her company in her room and napped while she was drawing. And although cats therefore remind her a little bit of a bad time in her life, it wasn't the cat's fault, and she still likes them.

4. Hoid: Cat Person

Hoid is 150% a cat person. I can't even really explain this. I just feel it so strongly in my soul.

5. Vin: Dog Person

I mean, I kinda hate to say this, given that the only actual dog Vin ever bought she also killed immediately. But Vin is kind of canonically a dog person, given her relationship with TenSoon.

6. Hrathen: Cat Person

I'm realizing as I write this that I associate "plotter" with "cat person." But again, I can see Hrathen with a cat. I can see the cat sitting on his shoulder, looking somehow just as arrogant as Hrathen himself, and hissing at Sarene.

7. Kaladin: Dog Person

As much as Kaladin himself is a cat, he would nevertheless be a dog person, I feel. He'd be tromping through Hearthstone as a child with his loyal dog by his side, and as a Radiant he'd give his dog goggles when he needs to fly it around.

8. Gavilar: Dog Person

Gavilar only likes things that are very loyal to him.

9. Moash: Cat Person

Cats have definite boundaries, and if they don't like you, they let you know it. I feel like that would resonate with Moash.

10. Vivenna: Dog Person

This is just instinct, like my "Hoid is a cat person" headcanon. But I feel like Vivenna--and especially Azure--is a dog person.

11. Elend: Cat Person

I think Elend reads thick tomes with a cat on his lap. I also think Vin is cat-like, and that Elend likes her.

12. Vasher: Cat Person

I just think that since Vasher is a prickly misanthropist, that he would like to have another, smaller, fuzzier prickly misanthropist on his side.

13. Tress: Dog Person

[SPOILERS INCOMING!! WHOOP! WHOOP!] I think if your boyfriend has spent any time as a rat being terrorized by cats, you kinda have to be a dog person rather than a cat person.

14. Jasnah: Cat Person

Weirdly, the logic here is the same as it is for Moash. I think Jasnah would appreciate a cat's autonomy and unwillingness to pretend to like people.

15. Painter: Cat Person

He's an antisocial artist. I mean, that says "cat" right?

16. Lightsong: Cat Person

I've said in a previous list, if there were any justice in this world, Lightsong would have an incredibly spoiled Persian cat with him at all times.

17. Breeze: Neither

I don't think Breeze wants fur of any type to get on his clothes.

18. Allrianne: Dog Person

Specifically, one of those dogs you can carry around in your purse and which has a pink sparkly collar.

19. Steris: Cat Person

Cats have rules and strict schedules. Steris would appreciate that.

20. Wax: Both

In the Roughs, Wax had an immaculately fluffy cat who sat on his shoulder and kept primly grooming itself. In the city, Wax has a wonky-looking mutt who slobbers a lot. Wax loves them both.

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 3

Part 1|Part 2

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

I'm not entirely happy with this, but I hope you enjoy it anyways. Some things will probably be changed for the Ao3 version, this is very much first draft and I want to do a proper rewrite before then.

Jason parked his bike next to the Batmobile. There was a strange air in the Batcave or maybe it was just him being different. He couldn’t tell for sure. He stepped off the bike so he had his back towards Bruce, who sat by the Batcomputer with his cowl off. Jason could still feel his gaze when he looked up. He didn’t know what to feel. Where was he supposed to start?

“Little Wing!” Dick announced happily, suddenly slinging an arm across his shoulder from behind. It was only all his training that stopped him from jumping three feet into the air from the fright and he managed to just tense - but that was normal. Dick would consider that normal. Pull yourself together, Jason, he scolded himself. Normal, act normal, for one long moment he was grasping for what was normal. It definitely wasn’t the urge to lean into his big brother.

“Jay?” Dick asked quietly, worried, thankfully too quiet for anyone to hear. Panic grasped him and he elbowed Dick to get him off. Dick bent over with an oomph. At least elbowing Dick was a normal response, even if it was for the wrong reason.

Ignoring the strange urge to check on Dick, he squared his shoulders, firmly didn’t look back and walked forward towards the Batcomputer, where now that he had arrived the rest of this night’s patrol team gathered. Damian already out of his suit with damp hair and a towel slung around his neck glanced surreptitiously at Jason out the corner of his eyes even as he pretended to look towards Bruce - brat was still worried. Tim was curled up in an office chair doing who knew what with his laptop in a way that did not seem conducive to the healing of the broken ribs he’d been benched for. Bruce himself, paused what he was doing and spun around in his chair. Even sitting he managed to draw everyone’s attention, Tim even closed his laptop.

Jason purposefully crossed his arms and widened his stance. That’s what they expected of him, probably? How did he usually stand? He usually always felt one wrong comment away from a fight when he was here, he should stand like he expected it, right? Defensive.

This was exhausting.

At last Dick walked up to them completing their loose circle. He was rubbing his side and Jason felt a stab of worry and guilt. Had he aggravated an existing wound? Shit. Fuck. What was wrong with him? Why was he so worried?

“Oracle,” Bruce spoke, “please start.”

“Thanks to Hood, we now have a better headshot of the thief,” Oracle announced from the computer speakers“The Ghost,” Dick interjected in a sing song voice, “after what happened tonight you can’t disagree.”“Nightwing,” Barbara replied flatly, she didn’t even need to say she thought it was a stupid name. “The thief,” she reiterated in a way that left no room for any other arguments and Dick wisely held his silence. At least Dick knew Barbara well enough when to stop. Finally she pulled two photos up on the large screen. The one on the right was an older/early photo with the green glassed goggles obstructing much of the upper half of the face, a grin was a sharp line of white on the lower half of the face in the blurry photo, the quality was terrible and caught in movement.

The newer photo on the left showed a young man, maybe even late teens, eyes were wide, bright green, not quite glowing and his face beet red in embarrassment, mouth slightly open - this was taken just after he’d pushed away from Jason. His goggles sat at the edge of his messy black hair, just high enough to see the way he was beginning to swell on his forehead where Jason had clocked him.

Jason looked from one picture to the other, something was off to him. The grin was an obvious difference, but these where snapped in very different moments, and he shouldn’t let different emotions cloud his judgment.

“He’s lost weight.” The realization hit him with the certainty of a sledgehammer.

There’s dubious mumbling around him, about the blurriness of the first picture. But Jason is unmoved, there’s a hollowness to the guy’s cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“We can’t really judge that sort of thing with the quality of the first image,” Barbara cut through the murmurs. Jason knows he right, but he doesn’t feel like arguing.

He doesn’t feel like arguing, it’s another realization that leaves him wrong footed and he’s not listening for a minute. Checking back into the conversation he only caught the tail end of the conversation that was apparently about the Meta’s skills.“-we can now add phase shifting powers-““Like a Ghost.”

Tim groaned and Barbara outright growled - Jason reevaluated his earlier thought that Dick knew Barbara’s limits. Damian had already accepted the logic and Bruce had long since become immune to this sort of Dick antic.

“Back on topic,” was all he said. “Tim.”

Tim opened his laptop back up.

“Yes, so the items the thief-” There was a small beat as everyone waited for Dick to interrupt, Tim was side-eyeing him but continued; “-is stealing are still painting a very alarming picture, and there is a multitude of very dangerous uses, not to mention what kind of world ending horror they could be built into. Luckily he didn’t get the prototype spectral calibrator tonight, and we’ll be keeping it here for the time being and set the project on an indefinite hold at Wayne Enterprise.”Tim looked up at Bruce. “We’ll be needing to monitor Star Labs as they have a similar project, but so far the Ghost has not operated outside of Gotham to our knowledge.”

Bruce nodded, “I’ll arrange something.”

It was a signal for Tim to continue, “we’re still no closer to a way to capture him and the phase shifting is a whole other added concern. We’ll need to figure out if there’s something he can’t phase through, some denser materials perhaps. I just finished looking through tonight’s footage and from what I’m seeing at least the new filter program is holding up; both the audio and visuals have very few glitches now. But we still don’t know how he’s sending out the electromagnetic interference.”

“Ghoooost,” Dick said quietly under his breath.Tim’s left eye twitched dangerously. Jason couldn’t help smiling, it was very good he was wearing the helmet. Bruce once more ignored Dick looking to Damian.The kid straightened imperceptibly at the attention, it really was adorable, but his voice was as haughty as ever. “Blood sample is already being analyzed of course, tt.” Blood sample? Oh, that’s what Bruce had been doing on the roof, when Jason was distracted. A sick feeling rose in his stomach thinking of the blood, was Ghost even alive? He could be bleeding inside the head for all they knew.

“Hood,” Bruce asked quietly, “do you know why the Ghost reacted to you like that?”Jason stiffened. Fear grabbing cold onto his heart. There was no way he could tell them he thought it had to do with the pits. They’d think Jason was being influenced by the Ghost and bench him. He couldn’t let that happen, he needed answers. He didn’t need to fight his family.

“No damn clue,” he scoffed, hoping he sounded nonchalant and none of his panic shone through, “some weird trauma response? He’d just hit his head real good.”

Bruce looked at him dubiously, but he was clearly unwilling to risk pushing. Their truce was a tentative one after all, one they’d come to after many false starts and stops. Jason had never before been so glad for their tattered relationship.

“So to conclude,” Dick drew everyone’s attention off Jason, “the Ghost is still a mystery, we don’t know if he’s just a thief or a supervillain biding his time.”

“He’s not a supervillain.” Jason could have cursed himself, he’d just gotten their attention off him. Now he was forced to elaborate. “He’s not wearing any sort of body armor, just that hoodie.”

And he’d definitely broken some of his ribs landing on him, Jason thought with a pang of guilt.

“Not all villains wear body armor though,” Tim pointed out carefully, and now Tim was worried too, Jason had no clue what had given him away.

“The ones who engage in close combat with us usually do though,” Dick returned, and Jason could have hugged him for bailing him out again (if that had been normal, which it was NOT).

“He could just not be a very good villain?”

“Or he’s just banking on the fact that he’s very good at dodging,” Barbara interjected with annoyance before the discussion got out of hand, “or did you all just forget you’ve been chasing this guy for weeks without landing a substantial hit on him?” She could always be counted on to be the voice of reason.

Dick scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Tim looked down at his computer. Damian scoffed, trying to look unaffected but that was definitely almost a pout.

Bruce’s eyes twinkled in amusement as he stood up and was that almost a smile? How was this happening? It felt… His fingers dug into his arms. It felt like all the things Jason had convinced himself had never really been there. And there was Bruce’s hand landing on Damian’s shoulder; a silent comfort-encouragement, because Bruce was terrible with words but his touches always spoke volumes. And as the small smile bloomed on Damian’s face and he quickly looked away to hide it, Jason remembered exactly how that felt. Shit.

“Oracle, that’s all for tonight, we’re not getting anywhere without more information.”

“You got it, B, Oracle out.”

Jason spun and stalked towards his bike, before he did something, he didn’t know what exactly.

“Jay?”

Bruce’s voice stopped him in place. He glanced over his shoulder to see them all watching him. Don’t give anything away, he scolded himself.

“What is it, old man?” Jason asked trying to interject as much annoyance into his voice as he could, but it was so hard dredging up any of that when they looked at him worried like that, and his chest ached and he just sounded tired.

“It’s late,” Bruce said with a small unconscious wave of his hand as if anyone could tell the time of day from within the cave, “you could stay the night?”

After a beat he added, “Alfred would love to see you.”

Jason’s jaw clenched. Alfred would, but that’s not what Bruce was really saying, he was saying he would love to have him stay, but didn’t think Jason would be receptive to that and so he brought out the Alfred card. It was plain as day and how had Jason never seen that? Seen the longing on his dad’s face? His chest ached, he knew why. He was always so busy reading everything Bruce did as him trying to control him, every interaction tinted in green. His chest ached. Every inch of his body wanted to stay, to take a step back, see where this could lead, but he couldn’t.

He had to act normal. Normal Jason would never. Normal Jason could be back tomorrow for all he knew. He couldn’t do that to any of them, to himself.

With great difficulty he tore his gaze away from his family and walked the last steps over to his bike.

“Tell Alfred I’ll be coming over for tea on Tuesday,” he said loudly over the noise of his bike, not looking, because he didn’t want to see any of their reactions, then he tore out of there.

This was better for everyone.

Poor Jay really is having the time of it, maybe next part he'll get to actually enjoy not being angry.

next Masterpost for subscription link

[chaoswithcausation]

Happy Halloween to my Secret Skele-Kon, @wallowaffles !

+ un-Halloweened vers. under the cut and accompanying ficlet, because you said you liked funny stuff but I wasn’t able to translate it super clearly into the drawing. Hope that’s okay! 😅

“You cheater.” Bart hissed. 

For someone who liked to act like he knew everything, Kon thought that Tim seemed to really enjoy pretending not to know what their friend was talking about. Tim raised a brow behind the sunglasses covering his face, but otherwise said nothing. 

Bart clearly got the message though, because he jabbed a finger at the screen in front of them. “You are not that tall.” 

“Yes I am. I’ve been this tall for years,” Tim said, imitating Bart’s tone.

“Liar!” Bart slammed his hands on the desk a la Ace Attorney, which Kon took as a cue to intervene. Cassie seemed to agree, because she hopped over the couch and joined as well. 

Kon slid slightly between Tim and Bart. There was a table between them, but he knew from experience that that wasn’t nearly enough to stop either one. He exchanged an amused look with Cassie, and the corners of her eyes crinkled. 

“Maybe the shoes added some height, Bart,” she said, plopping her head down on top of his. Her own goggles pressed into her chin from where they rested atop his head, but she didn’t seem to mind. 

“Look at the picture, Cassie. He’s gotta be on his tiptoes.” Bart insisted, shoving the picture in question into her face. Kon muffled and snort and Tim huffed in pretend-impatience as Cassie shot the speedster a look, but examined the picture obligingly. 

“Well, I’m not saying you’re wrong,” she began, and Kon snatched Bart’s celebratory fist pump out of the air before he accidentally punched her. “But, I don’t think you have any room to be complaining since you were also on your tiptoes.” 

“Yeah, but that’s different!“ he defended, while Tim began loudly objecting. “I’m the shortest! I’m allowed to cheat!” 

“Oh, this is bullsh-“ 

“Mr. Greatest Junior Detective here is taller, so ipso facto, thusly, and ergo, he should be grateful for the inch and a half he’s got!” 

Tim, who had been moving forward and raising his hands as if to throttle Bart, stopped in place. Cassie doubled over snickering, freeing Bart, who looked extraordinarily smug. 

Kon muffled a wheeze in his fist and tried not to devolve into laughter too at Tim’s perfect impression of what the spinning wheel of death would look like as a facial expression. 

Error 404, reaction.wtf not found, his brain supplied helpfully, and the laughter slipped out, growing in volume as it went. 

Tim didn’t move for a few more seconds, until finally he blinked, scrunched up his entire face in a scowl, and lunged for Bart. 

Bart shrieked with glee and leapt atop Cassie’s shoulders to get away. She yelped, immediately dumping him, and Kon hooked both his arms around Tim’s waist to pull him back. 

“Tim, buddy-“ he tried to reason. 

Tim, clearly not interested in listening, wriggled back and forth in an attempt to escape. “He made a dick joke at my expense while quoting Ice Age, Kon! Ice Age!” 

“In his defense, it was a golden opportunity.” 

Bart blew Kon a kiss. “Thank you.” Then, with a devious grin, he blew Tim one, too. 

Tim went fake-limp in a way that meant doom was impending, so Kon quickly wrapped him in a blanket of TTK. He tossed him over his shoulder and started walking to the door. “Oooookay, cool-down time. We should watch the first episode of Wendy: tis the season!” 

Bart immediately zipped past him to get to the living room first. “No way! Halloween means movies!” 

Cassie flew after him. Kon could hear her slightly muffled voice, just to be contrary, suggest that “Mean Girls has a Halloween scene in it. We could watch that.” Bart, in a fit of holiday-purism, started sputtering protests about how Mean Girls is not a Halloween movie. 

He chuckled, and Tim huffed from his position on Kon’s shoulder. When the super looked, however, there was a smile twisting the corners of his mouth upwards. Tim blew a puff of air in his face. “Can I get down now?” 

Kon smiled innocently. “Dunno. Can you be civil now?” His grin stretched wider, and he raised his voice slightly while Tim lifted an eyebrow. “I mean, you did stand on tiptoes for the picture.” 

Bart’s muffled voice crowed victoriously. 

Happy Halloween! I hope you enjoyed 😊