#look at my cool teeth badge lols

[peethepauu]

The way you draw Tom is so edible.

THANK YOU he’s an idiot…

[anxi-aashi]

lullaby

aizawa shouta x f!reader

words: 2.6k

warnings: minor cursing, mentions of blood

summary: aizawa comes home injured from a night on patrol and discovers he is out of bandages. you, the nurse filling in for recovery girl, can help with that

a/n: this is my submission for @httptamaki's valentine's day love letters collab! i was @httptamaki's secret cupid (but you already knew that lol) so here it issss. this was actually my first time writing for aizawa so i hope he's in character lmao. enjoy your fluffy/hurt/comfort soulmate au! i hope you like it :)))))))) and happy valentines day!!!! <3

“Fuck.”

The curse was both out of pain and frustration. Aizawa thumped his head against his medicine cabinet. He could’ve sworn he still had gauze wraps from his last errand run, but the empty basket where they usually sat in his cabinet proved him wrong.

He leaned away from the cabinet after a moment, wincing in pain when the movement agitated the gash he had along his lower back. It, along with the similar one on his left shoulder, was currently wrapped in some scraps of his cloth that had been severed in order to stop the bleeding. The villain he’d encountered that night had a quirk that allowed him to use his hair to form weapons, and the guy was apparently partial to swords. After he took care of classes for the day, he would have to stop by Support to look into some new bindings.

Aizawa slid the door on his cabinet closed and did the same with his eyes, letting himself just breathe for a moment.

He opened his eyes. A glance toward the clock on the wall behind him told him it was close to 2 am. Recovery Girl was on vacation, had been for the past week, but even if she wasn’t the clinic should be empty. Aizawa huffed, jerked tight the cloth around his shoulder, and shuffled back out his door.

The pain in his back made the trip from the dorms to the main campus take longer than usual, but the cool air of the night helped to numb it a little. Trees and bushes rustled slightly in the wind and the street lamps glowed as he made his way to the entrance.

He pulled himself to stand up straight (or straighter) in front of the security cameras, not wanting to be called into Principal Nezu’s office for a lecture anytime soon. A quick swipe of his badge at the door, and he was walking the hallways to the nurse’s office.

He’d been at the school multiple times while it was closed before, but every time he came, it still managed to set him on edge. The campus had been broken into too many times for him to ever feel comfortable while it was dark. He kept his footsteps light, making sure there was no echo out of habit, leaving only the hum of the building to keep him company.

And, oddly, the hum of someone else singing as he approached Recovery Girl’s office.

Aizawa froze and moved to hug the wall by the door as quickly as he could without making his injuries worse. The humming grew louder as he crept towards the door that he could now see was open with light spilling out into the hallway. He peeked around the doorway and immediately held back the urge to facepalm. Of course this would happen to him.

With Recovery Girl out for the time being, the school had hired someone as a substitute, someone Recovery Girl had personally vouched for: You.

Even though you’d been filling in as the school nurse for a week now, he hadn’t met you yet. You both had very different schedules, and Aizawa made sure he never missed his naptime during the lunch break, so there wasn’t any chance of you crossing paths. Of course, Hizashi had done his part by pointing you out to him every time he saw you in the hallway, but that was the extent of his knowledge on you.

As he felt his mind wandering, the gash in his back decided to remind him of its presence with a violent throbbing. Aizawa grimaced and sucked in a breath through his teeth. Whatever reason you had for being in the office at 2 am, he had to get you out of there.

While he dug around in his pockets, he idly listened to your voice. He didn’t know what you were singing, but he decided he liked it. You didn’t have the best voice, by any means— your voice cracked often on the higher notes and sometimes you were out of tune— but there was a warm authenticity to it. It was soothing.

Finally, he pulled a cheap pen out of his pocket. If someone were to ask him when he put it in there, or if it was even his, he wouldn’t be able to tell you, but at that moment, it was exactly what he needed.

Aizawa retreated back away from the door to hide in the darkness, reeled back his uninjured arm, and tossed the pen down the hall.

The pen landed with a clack! that echoed off the walls as it bounced and eventually skidded to a stop on the floor.

Your humming stopped. Within a few seconds, he saw you peek around the doorway, just as he had done not five minutes ago. You looked in the direction he had thrown the pen first, and he mentally applauded your hearing. He patiently waited for the moment you would cross the threshold so he could sneak in and grab what he needed. In and out without ever being seen, that was his plan.

You let out a quiet tsk and promptly shut the door.

Aizawa stared. He could feel the need to bang his head against the wall growing in his chest and he clenched his jaw tight to prevent another profanity from slipping out. As many times as he preached safety and precaution to his students, he couldn’t help but wish that you were just a little bit stupider. Just for this time.

But his pen still sat at the end of the hall, and you had shut the door. His whole body ached to just turn around and go to sleep, but he knew from previous excursions that his wounds couldn’t be left untreated. His plan was screwed.

He sighed and trudged to your door again, no longer attempting to quiet his footsteps. Stopping fully in front of it, he raised a fist and knocked.

It took a few seconds for you to answer it, but the reason why was given to him when you opened the door hunched over in a defensive position, a syringe clutched tightly in your other hand.

You relaxed when you noted who he was, so he assumed you recognized him. The crinkle between your eyebrows smoothed out as you straightened up, but when he met your eyes, he saw the confusion in them.

“Aizawa-sensei,” you greeted. “What are you doing here? It’s almost 3 in the morning.”

“I could ask you the same,” he deflected, putting off what he knew he had to do.

You raised an eyebrow and his non-answer, but your gaze darted over him briefly and your face slackened. “Is that… your blood?” you asked, referring to the droplets on his cloth bindings draped around his neck.

He looked down at it. “This, no, but um… I do need a roll of bandages,” he said.

“Oh my god,” you muttered under your breath, pulling him inside by the arm. Unfortunately, you didn’t grab the right one.

“Ah,” he hissed, tensing in pain.

“Sorry! Where is it?” you rushed out, cleaning off a place for him to sit on one of the cots in the office and looking at him over your shoulder.

Aizawa gestured to the shoulder where his wound was, and then added, “Also my back.”

“Okay okay, go ahead and sit,” you ushered while guiding him over to the cot. He plopped onto the mattress, holding in a groan at the shock it gave his back gash. When he looked back up at you, you were staring at him expectantly.

He raised an eyebrow at you in question, to which you replied as bluntly as possible, “I need you to take your shirt off.”

“Oh, right,” he answered, mentally reprimanding himself while he carefully shrugged out of his top and removed the binding cloths from his neck. Had he lost more blood than he thought? Obviously, you needed to be able to reach the wound in order to treat it.

You walked over to wash your hands at the sink built into the counter while he maneuvered around his top, your white coat shifting with every vigorous movement of your arms.

Aizawa dropped his shirt and wrappings in a pile next to him on the cot, leaving his torso bare by the time you turned around patting your hands dry with a paper towel. He was expecting you to gather what you needed to fix him— he knew he needed stitches for the main two cuts at least–but you grabbed cotton balls and disinfecting alcohol and headed straight to his side.

You took a seat on his left, raising a hand to his shoulder still wrapped in his bloody cloth scraps, and lifted your eyes to meet his. “I’m going to take this off, okay?”

He gave you a small nod, and you got to work.

He watched you out of the corner of his eye. Your touch was careful but practiced, and the cloth was off his arm with little to no additional pain on his end. You took a beat to inspect the line that traveled in a clean swipe down his shoulder to his tricep, then poured some alcohol on a cotton ball and began cleaning the area. The crinkle between your eyebrows returned as you concentrated on your task. Aizawa found that studying your face was a good distraction from the stinging, even though he had patched himself up enough times that it didn’t bother him anymore. You were pretty.

The thought led his ears to flush faintly, though they were covered by his tangled hair. Aizawa had always been thankful that he wasn’t a strong blusher, but his hair was an added protection.

By now you had finished cleaning his arm, and set the used materials aside, except for one bloody cotton ball, which you pressed to your finger, tinting it in red. You cleared your throat. “Okay, I’m going to have to touch the area now. It might hurt a little.”

Aizawa went to ask why, but you must have seen the question on his face before he could voice it because you said, “My quirk. I have to touch your blood—” you raised your bloody finger— “in order to heal you. It won’t take long, I promise,” you assured.

Judging by how you explained it, he had a feeling that was not the first time someone had asked you that. He huffed a sort of laugh through his nose at the thought and nodded to you again, then added a verbal “Okay” after he realized he may have been nodding at you too much in the short time he’d known you.

You gave him a quick, close-lipped smile, and pressed a finger to his shoulder.

Aizawa watched as the gash began to sew itself together, eventually sealing shut in a matter of seconds. When it was done, the only thing he felt on his arm was the soft touch of your finger.

You pulled it away after you noticed yourself lingering a bit longer than acceptable, clearing your throat again and not meeting his gaze. Aizawa hid a smile to himself as you abruptly stood up. “I’m going to do the same thing to you back now, okay?” you declared, already walking around the cot.

“Thank you,” he responded, voice coming out more gravelly than usual.

“Mhm—”

You stopped; both your footsteps and your voice.

He turned the best he could to see if you were okay, only to find you standing frozen, staring wide-eyed at his back.

This made him pause. Was the cut worse than he thought? It definitely wasn’t painless, but he thought he’d dealt with worse before. Or did you… find his back attractive? No, maybe it was the first one.

Only it was apparently neither.

“Is that… this is probably going to sound really inappropriate I’m so sorry— Is that your soulmate tattoo?”

Aizawa blinked. How had he forgotten about the line of music that strung along the bottom of his shoulder blade? “Oh—” he reached around to touch it— “yeah.”

The room went silent.

“Have you… met them yet?” you asked, your eyes still trained on the notes.

He looked at you, apprehension building in his gut the longer you stared. “No.”

Your eyes snapped to his, and he couldn’t tell if it was fear or disbelief he saw. But instead of saying anything in response, you shrugged your lab coat off and lifted your shirt to bunch just under your chest.

There, along your ribcage, sat the same line of music that was inked on his back. The same notes that he had spent hours staring at twisted in front of a mirror when he was younger, even though he couldn’t read it.

“You’re—” he started.

“I mean, I think so,” you finished.

The silence that stretched between you wasn’t as suffocating as the last, but even so, it wasn’t long before you blurted “I should—” and quickly crouched behind him to unwrap the bloody cloth there and repeat your process.

Aizawa was quiet as you worked, still processing the revelation that had just happened, but he made sure to say “Nice to meet you,” so you wouldn’t get the wrong idea. He could practically feel you relax after that, and the quiet that resumed was more comforting because of it.

After an hour and some small conversation here and there, you had managed to heal all his surface abrasions and even a few bruises that were noticeable. He felt as good as new, aside from fact that he was in desperate need of a shower and a good twelve hours of sleep. He almost fell asleep on the cot while you threw away all the used supplies, but you woke him up with a good poke to his shoulder. That was when you offered to walk him back to the dorms.

“To make sure you don’t pass out under one of the lamp posts mid-way,” you had said, but he had a feeling with the way you kept a slow pace with him on the way back, that you just wanted to drag out this encounter a little longer. Aizawa found he didn’t mind. He hadn’t known you for very long, and by all accounts, you were still a stranger, but he liked listening to you come up with random conversation starters to pass the time, and the air almost seemed a little warmer with you next to him.

“I have a question,” he asked as you approached the doors to the dorm building.

“Yeah?”

“Our tattoo—” he caught your smile at that— “do you know how to read it? What it sounds like?”

You nodded, looking slightly embarrassed. “I actually learned to read music just so I could.” Your shoulder lifted into a shrug. “Maybe I can sing it for you one day,” you added boldly still avoiding his eyes anyway.

He laughed under his breath at your odd display of forwardness and shyness. “I would like that,” he agreed.

Your eyes brightened as they met his again, a grin stretching across your face. “Cool! Um, I’ll see you soon then, I guess?”

Aizawa nodded. “Goodnight,” he bid you.

“Goodnight,” you returned.

Just before he closed the door behind him, he heard humming from outside, and he glanced back to see you singing to yourself the same tune he’d heard earlier that night. He wondered if it was the same song that was painted on his skin.

[twistedsinews]

Hey! You're probably tired of seeing me in your questions box but here my request anyway LOL : 193. “Come on, this doesn’t even make it into the top 10 of stupid things I’ve done. You’re completely overreacting.” mucho love <3

[nooooo, if I didn’t love prompts I wouldn’t reblog prompt lists.  you’re fine!  <3]

Cyberpunk 2077; Jackie/V; PG-13

It calmed him down.  A little.  But she was still trapped in the server room and he was still on edge and they still had a handful of minutes at best before someone came to investigate why the mainframe they'd just sabotaged was down.

"You're makin' some of these up."

"Am not."

"Alright, make it easy: give me one thing dumber'n this, since I met you."

V could name half a dozen without putting any effort into it, and she was pretty sure Jackie could, too.  The plan part of the plan had gone off without a hitch.  It was merely the escape part of the plan she hadn't thought fully through.

"Falling in love."

Kinda like the words that were out of her mouth before she realized it.

There was a poignant silence on the the line to tell her how badly she'd fucked up, and when Jackie did finally answer his voice was low.  Flat.

"You think it's dumb, huh?"

"I didn't mean like that."

"How did you mean it?"

"I-..."

"Never mind."

"Jackie, I'm not saying-..."

"Not the time for this conversation right now, V."

And he was right.

V closed her eyes.

The security doors were linked into the mainframe.  Backup power was down, but this wasn't a matter of backup power.  Because linking through the mainframe would mean cutting through any time there was so much as a hiccup in the system.

Hunching down to better see, V followed the path of the lines wired into the databanks through the darkened room.  Near where they disappeared into the angle of floor and wall, her fingers brushed over a smooth, seemingly out of place indented square in the steel paneling.  A smaller hidden rectangle slid out easily, giving her a manual release for the hatch beneath her fingertips.

It was as good a lead as any, and she dropped through the floor into the crawlspace beneath.

"I found some kind of a maintenance duct," she told Jackie, twisting a bit under the cramped space to slide the hatch closed above her.  "See if you can figure out where it comes through on the other side."

"Yeah, sure.  On it."

Directly in front of her, she found a wall.  It took some flailing to get herself back around, but V nevertheless managed, and started crawling down the passage.

"Got it."

There was a sound up ahead of scraping metal.  Turning a corner, there was a dim flash of moving light in the distance.  Once she reached the end, she found Jackie waiting for her.

"See?" she huffed, taking the hand he offered to help drag her out of the gap in the floor.  "An oversight, not the end of the world."

Jackie grunted an acknowledgement, which settled poorly with the icy chill of silence in her chest.  He let go only to push her right along in front of him, and she took the hint.  The way out was the way they came, up a flight of stairs out of the basement, through some hallways, and out an intricate lobby.

As they made their way down the main hallway, there came the rustle of movement.  Killing her light and trusting Jackie to do the same, V spun right back around, grabbing for his jacket to haul him back again and into an adjoining hall.  Tension radiated off him as Jackie pressed close to the wall behind her; his arm settled on her shoulder, less for reassurance and more ready to throw her back if things lit up any more dramatically than a few heavy flashlights.  They crouched in the darkness, waiting for the security detail - headed by one computer scientist, frustrated it seemed to the point of negligence in his surroundings - to pass them by; the hired corpo soldiers scurried along behind him, no doubt equally frustrated by the clip at which he was walking straight into the unknown.

And then the light was gone, and the clomp of heavy boots faded into the distance.

V inched forward to peer around the corner, then stepped out into the dark.  Jackie bumped into her, and she froze, but he nudged her onward.  With security now behind them, they managed a much faster pace, and escaped out of the back rooms and through the moonlit lobby without incident.

On the street again, they fell into the crowd.  A couple of blocks up and one across, they caught the line with seconds to spare, paid the fare in cash, and even snagged the last empty seat in the row.

And sharing would never have been an issue, except for the stifling rift she'd caused.

Jackie made no complaint when she settled in his lap, but other than bracing her when they got underway, he kept his hands to himself.  After a mile or two of distance, she got to her feet and opted to stand in the aisle instead.  Gripping one of the lines overhead, she put all her weight on it and twisted in space.

A man slipped off one of the nearer seats, and didn't seem bothered when someone immediately claimed it after him.  He stepped up behind her, near enough to touch but didn't, and she stood a little straighter.

"If he can't do it for you," a smooth, unfamiliar voice reasoned over her shoulder, "maybe I can."

"Yeah, maybe you could," V mumbled in vague agreement, without any of the enthusiasm she'd have found in flirting.  Still, proximity and his touch on her arm at her answer gave her an excuse to fleece his pockets.  She froze as her fingers found a plate of metal, and traced the bumps on its face.  "And maybe again, not."

The man gave a gruff little hmmph at her drab dismissal, and drew his hand away.  Keeping her hand low, V flashed the badge behind her.  Under the notice of the plainclothes dick she hoped was cruising for an easy pickup and not taking note of two mercs that were hardly out of place in taking the public transit.

Regardless of which, she opted for a quick exit at the next stop, feeling her confidence ebb back when Jackie fell in behind her.  He stopped her from flashing the badge again, this time at the very cop she'd stolen it from, snatching it from her before the man could see it.

Once they'd stepped off again, Jackie whipped his hand and the badge skittered away down the sidewalk.

They made it down another block and halfway through the next alley.

With a huff, V stepped in front of him, causing Jackie to stop short of walking into her, only to jostle her all the same.

He blinked down at her.

"I wasn't saying you're stupid."

"Didn't think you were."

"And I wasn't saying loving you was stupid."

Jackie didn't answer right away, which formed something of an answer all unto itself.

"It's cool, V.  I'm over it."

Squaring her shoulders, V raised her chin as she studied his face.

"Liar."

Jackie hissed sharply.  Clenching his jaw, he bared his teeth in a thin grimace of distaste.

"Digging yourself deeper, chica."

Brushing past her, he kept walking.

V stood rooted to the spot.

When he noticed she wasn't following him, Jackie turned back around and stalled.  He sighed heavily, and came right back.  His hand settled on her shoulder, warm and familiar.  Some of the tension eased out of her shoulders, and V shoved her hands into her pockets.

"Mira..." Jackie said, only he didn't seem to know what else to say.  Whatever was in his head, he went with, "You go home and get some rest.  I'll go and collect our pay.  I'll catch up with you in the morning."

Her heart sank.

"Yeah," V agreed listlessly.  "Alright.  Great."

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, leaving her with only the shadow of his smile.

It helped.  And... it didn't.

"Hasta mañana."

This time, Jackie didn't look back.  Just disappeared into the next street.

V took one step and stopped again.

She didn't even know where the hell she was.

With a sigh, she scratched her eyebrow and pulled up her geodata.  Then, once she had a read, she started on again.  And each step felt heavier than the last.

***

Jackie parked his bike near as he could to V's car out of mindless habit, but it was a flash of color huddled in the backseat seized his attention.

It wasn't where he was expecting to find her, though not unheard of, and he knocked on the window anyway.  She stirred, squinted up at him over her shoulder, then twisted to reach the lock, followed by the latch.  Jackie stepped back as the door swung open under her weight, not anticipating for her to pour out on the floor of the parking garage like she did.

Grabbing the top of the door, two seconds too late, he winced in sympathy.

"How's that first taste of concrete, first thing in the morning, eh?"

V flipped him off.

A sign of life if ever he'd seen one.

Jackie clasped one hand firmly around her wrist.  Reaching down, he got the other into a hold on her jacket to lift her entirely off the ground, and set her onto her feet.

She combed her hair out of her face with her fingers, scrubbed her sleeve across her face, and regarded him with a dull, guarded expression that slipped a little near the corner of her mouth.  Her eyes remained narrow, more to do with her hangover than anything.

Jackie smiled.  And he meant it.

V's expression slipped a little further.  Losing ground, she turned and stalked away.

He fell in step beside her, keenly aware that it was her money sitting in his pocket.  

Among other things he was feeling overly aware of.

V survived the elevator on her own two feet.  She only opted to stop once, leaning over the low terrace wall in whatever solemn post-drunk contemplation it was she fancied this morning, and tolerated him rubbing a hand down her back before finally moving on.

They made it back to her apartment at last.  V immediately went for the sink; the mirror flickered on, and she turned on the water to scrub her face clean.

Jackie hung back, leaning into the wall as he watched her.  Trapped between feeling out the situation, and getting lost right down the subtlest play of the muscles under her skin and the patterns adorning her shoulders.

"Last night I was thinking..." V told his reflection.  "How far a full tank would get me, and I thought about three hundred miles.  Not very far, really."

Jackie didn't answer.  He didn't know what to answer.  Luckily, he apparently didn't need to answer, as she continued, "So I thought... maybe if I loaded up six or seven tanks, still have room for supplies, and I could get maybe a couple of thousand.  Still not far enough to get to the East Coast."

Ah.

Words.

Something would probably have been more appropriate than nothing right about then, but he still couldn't think of any, and careless words got them here in the first place.  Moreover, he was just smart enough to know better than to speak just because.

"I thought about it for maybe two minutes total," V admitted, without his input.  "But it wouldn't make a difference, would it?  No matter how far I could go, it doesn't change how anything feels."

Dipping her hand under the faucet, V combed the water through her hair.  Droplets caught between strands, and spattered on her ink.

"How come it's so much easier being your choom than it is being your output?"

"I don't know..."  Jackie had never really thought about it, certainly never saw it that way.  "Maybe 'cause you're thinking of it as two separate things, when really it's somewhere in between."  Her eyes narrowed as she mulled it over, and Jackie shrugged.  "Just my take on it, though."

The mirror flickered off, and he pulled back out of her way as she moved to step out of the sink cubby.  She breezed past him, and started picking through the cans on her desk.  Several empty ones went right under it, until she found an unopened one, which she cracked open for a long drink, abandoning the rest.

"But come on, really; it's not that bad," Jackie argued.  "I think... if a couple of dumb words is all that ever gets to us once in a while, we're doing okay.  Better than, I'd say."

V stared at him over the rim of the sodacan.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she stated.

Jackie blinked.

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"I know that, too."

V sighed.  Still eyeing him, she took another sip, and, wandering over to the bed, dropped down, leaning her back against the outer wall.

"It was a stupid joke at my own expense, okay?  Falling in love wasn't part of my plan for when I got here."

Jackie scoffed.

"Implying you had a plan when you landed in N.C." he reminded her, easing down across from her to lean against the inner wall.  "Which as I recall, was not the case.  Not at all."

"Okay, but I wasn't even thinking of it as a distant possibility.  I sure as fuck wasn't expecting to trip and fall into your arms and for it to be all..." She waved her drink around in a vague pattern, encompassing the all of it.  "Isn't that stupid?"

"Love ain't stupid, chica.  Never is."

V stared at him.  Jackie stared right back, until at length he glanced off, and her gaze fell to the tab of her drink as she toyed with it.

Finally, draining the can, she set it down on the floor.  She kicked off her shoes, followed by rolling off her socks, and drew her legs up loosely onto the bed in front of her.

"...if it could have been anyone," she murmured, "I'm glad it was you."

Jackie smiled.  Then he chuckled.

"And you know what?"  He admitted, "you weren't part of my plan, either.  You fell right into my lap out of fucking nowhere, and I didn't have the first idea of what to do with that..."

As V listened quietly, her expression grew quizzical, until she shot him a very particular stare.

"...okay, you're right.  You're right," Jackie amended, "I had the first idea what I wanted to do with that, but maybe not the whole thing." Sighing, he continued, "But really.  I wanted to be the best out there.  And I wanted to do it all alone, to prove that I could.  Falling in love, tch - yeah, someday, definitely.  But having a partner?  Wasn't even on my mind.  Not until you came along.  Now I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Not even for what you want most in the world?"

"No.  Wanna know why?  'Cause you're part of everything I want most in the world."

V pressed her lips together.

Then huffed a small, shaky little breath.

She reached into her pocket to dig out her knife, opening it with a soft click.  As he watched her, she wound her braid around her fingers, and pulled it taut.  Closing her eyes, she cut it free in one concerted, jagged little effort.

Jackie found himself at no less of a loss when she crossed the bed and inched up to his side.  Reaching for his hand, she wound the braid around his wrist and fastened the ends together under the small clasp.

He glanced from the new splash of color encircling his wrist, and back to V as she closed the knife and set it on the shelf overhead.  She combed her fingers through her hair, threading out the form of another braid.  Jackie brushed his fingers through the loose strands on the other side, and her movements slowed.  Biting her lip, she reached for his hands, one after the other, guiding him to help her weave the braid together.

"This ain't some kind of Nomad marriage thing, is it?" Jackie teased, "'Cause I'm not sure I'm ready for that just yet."

"No... I'm making it up as I go along."

"Oh."

At length, the braid reached a point that he had to let her take care of the rest.  Holding the end in her mouth, she tugged free several loose threads from a tear in her jeans to tie it off with.

Jackie grazed her cheek with his thumb, and she grabbed his hand, holding it there for several long moments.  There was a sound in her throat, a softened lilt like it could have been a question that didn't quite form.

"V?"

"...are we okay?"

With a glance to the window, Jackie shrugged.

"We're fine, V.  You don't have to go riding off into the desert or to the East Coast or off to Mars or someplace lookin' for some kind of absolution."  After a thought, and he added, "And while we're on the subject, you don't need to go around tripping over yourself thinking how you got to make me feel better about gonk-brained shit when it happens.  I'm tough.  I'll survive."  And after another, "Ay, I almost forgot, but I got your money."

With his free hand, he found the roll of eddies that were stuffed in his inside jacket pocket, and offered it to her.  She snatched it from his hand, and it went...

...somewhere.

Flying into the laundry basket, he was pretty certain.

But he had other things to think of right then than money that wasn't his, like how soft her mouth was, and how she tasted like artificial kumquat-flavored corn syrup.  How soon enough, he wouldn't be thinking of much at all, and if he played his deck right, neither would V.

[notcanoncompliant]

Haven’t Found a Drop (Of You)

I hit 666 followers today…so here’s a fic that doubles as a ticket to Hell lol

Wrote this all today while listening to Addict With A Pen by Twenty One Pilots on repeat.

******TW: Incest******

(Peter is 22-23, but there is a brief mention/implication of things that happened when he was 16-17)

*******************************************

“Peter.”

“Dad.”

Tony stares at his son across the expanse of dark-stained wood between them. His office feels too large and too small all at once.

Peter looks good. Great. Filled out. Healthy, older; adult in ways Tony didn’t get to see happen. A sharper jaw. Biceps that strain against the short sleeves of his t-shirt.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks, trying for joking formality that falls flat.

His chest clenches when Peter’s lips thin.

“Maybe I just wanted to see my dad.”

It’s been a long time, Tony reminds himself. It’s been years. There’s nothing there. Nothing else. Not anymore.

“Well, you’re always welcome,” Tony says, glad it comes out smoothly when his mouth feels so dry. “My door is always open for you, you know that.”

“I thought you made it pretty clear that wasn’t the case,” Peter says tightly.

Tony clears his throat and glances away, taps his pen lightly against the edge of his desk. Thinks about continuing to pretend ignorance. It’d be terrible, but this is already terrible. This is a nightmare, a distinct reminder of how terrible of a person, of a father, Tony really is. For so many reasons.

If you believe that, why are you here in front of me?

Why are you doing this?

His gaze flickers to the framed picture beside his work surface, the one of he and Peter standing close together, his arm around his son’s shoulders while Peter grins and holds his high school diploma in front of himself.

He keeps his questions to himself. “I thought it was best,“ he finally says.

Peter’s jaw tightens. “Best for the company image, or for your personal reputation?”

And, God, that hurts. He’d never meant–Sure, what happened would have had a serious impact on both of those things, but…Peter has never been insignificant, has never been easily swept aside. It’d be simpler if he was, all of this would be so much fucking simpler if Tony had put the distance there out of cold indifference for his only child. But that hadn’t been the problem; he’d felt (feels) too much.

And he’s too fucking selfish to just…let him go.

“It was never about SI, Pete,” he says, a concession he knows he shouldn’t make, turning and facing his son head on, “Or my reputation. You know that.”

Tony can’t bring himself to regret his mistake, even as Peter looks bitterly triumphant.

“Then what was it, huh? Why else would you shut me out? Send me away?”

The taunting isn’t what gets under Tony’s skin; he’s always loved that about Peter–the challenge, the push. No, it’s the poorly-hidden desperation, the pain underneath, that spears between Tony’s ribs, needles its way into his heart.

Tony’s a coward. He tries, though, at a last ditch effort to be good, to be better than he was. To be a real father.

“Because it was best for you. Because I care about you, and I couldn’t keep–” Tony’s throat catches on the words, feels the prickle of a blush under his skin as he swallows to try and clear it.

Peter’s gaze drops to watch the movement of this throat.

It’s too much. Tony hasn’t felt this pull in so long, hasn’t felt it for anyone in years–not since you abandoned him, a nasty voice murmurs in the back of his mind–and it makes him sick with guilt.

“Don’t,” he says, the word rasping out. “Don’t look at me like that, Pete. Don’t. I’m–”

“My dad,” Peter says softly, wetting his lips. “You’re my dad.”

Tony’s heart pounds, kicking in his chest as Peter rises from his seat and comes around the desk until Tony has a full-length view of his boy’s body: the way his worn, low-slung jeans contour to his thighs, how his shirt is just a little too short, a slash of pale gold skin visible as he moves.

He shouldn’t be encouraging this, should be telling him to leave; instead, he’s turning the chair to face him.

“You were supposed to meet someone,” Tony says, and now he’s the one who sounds desperate. “You were supposed to go to school and be with someone who–who could be what you need, who could be good for you–”

He cuts off with an embarrassing, choked off sound when Peter lowers himself to the floor in front of him.

“You’re what I need,” Peter says, pushing Tony’s knees apart with slow but inexorable force. His cheek is warm when he presses it against Tony’s thigh, those long lashes meeting the tops of Peter’s cheekbones as his boy closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

And then they open and Tony can see those honey-brown irises again, staring up at him, open and pained. “You’re what I’ve always needed.”

Tony grips the armrests of his chair so hard his knuckles turn white, trying to keep from putting his hands in Peter’s hair (it looks soft, a little wild, the way it used to after long drives in Tony’s fastest cars–reminds him of finger-combing the tangles away as they lay sprawled together on the couch, Peter’s weight warm and grounding on Tony’s chest, over his hips).

“I love you,” Peter whispers, shaky and raw. Tilts his head and says it again, his breath warm through Tony’s slacks, across the steadily growing bulge.

Seeing Peter down there, with an anxious, almost shy look on his face, makes something in Tony’s chest loosen. He can remember the first time, how his little boy had been on the edge of adulthood, nervous and seventeen and staring up at him with that same look, except backed with the heat of frantic, teenage lust–

The memory shouldn’t feel as warm and sweet as it does–He can’t, he can’t, he can’t–

“Pete, sweetheart, please,” Tony begs, clinging to whatever he can–the arms of his chair, the vestiges of his self-control–but he’s not even sure what he’s begging for, not anymore. For Peter to stop, for him to keep going. For his son’s love, for his forgiveness. Tony just doesn’t know–

He inhales sharply as Peter noses at him through the fabric, rubs his face against Tony’s erection with a soft relieved sound.

Oh. Oh God.

The sheer want is heavy, heady, bleeding down Tony’s chest and into his gut, heat pooling low between his hips. He’s fully hard, knows Peter can feel it, knows that–fuck, his baby boy likes it.

“I can’t–”

“Then don’t. Just let me.”

“Peter–”

“Please, Daddy.”

And that’s just…

He gives up. He gives up, and he knows Peter sees it on his face.

“Okay,” Tony breathes. “Okay, baby…fuck, just…okay.”

He finally relents, finally, finally touches. Reaches down with a shaking hand to push Peter’s hair back off his forehead. The locks are as soft as he remembers, short chocolate waves parting between his fingers.

For as long as they’ve been apart, the act starts so unhurried, Peter pressing reverent kisses along Tony’s length through the expensive fabric, kisses that gradually turn hotter, wetter, and Tony is suddenly, wind-knocked-out-of-his-lungs grateful he wore one of his light grey suits.

By the time Peter pulls away to undo the front closure and carefully pull Tony’s cock from its confines, the material is soaked through, dark and incriminating from Peter’s attention. There’s no way Tony could walk out of his office without a shield in place, and it makes all of this feel so much worse and so much better.

He doesn’t want to hide this. He wants whatever marks Peter wants to leave him, wants to wear them like badges.

Just before Peter can take Tony’s length in his mouth, Tony makes a careful fist of those soft brown locks and tugs him back, away from his cock.

Peter stares up at him, betrayed, but wide-eyed and flushed, lips parted.

“Come here, baby,” Tony says, urging Peter to kneel fully upright, pulls him a little forward. The command is a little redundant because he leans a little ways down to meet him, but he remembers how Peter likes it, how much he wants to give Daddy what he wants.

And Daddy wants to kiss his son, his sweet boy.

“I love you, Pete,” he breathes, so close the words brush Peter’s lips. “My baby boy, my sweetheart. I love you so much.”

He presses a soft, almost chaste kiss to Peter’s slightly parted lips, reaches up to cradle the corner of his son’s jaw, trails the pad of his thumb back and forth, a light, affection brush, just to touch the somehow still-soft skin of Peter’s cheek.

Peter’s breathing hitches, and then the kiss tastes like the salt-tang of his tears.

Tony starts to pull back, alarmed, but then there are hands in his hair and Peter surges up, licks into Tony’s mouth with almost panicked need, and that’s where it snaps.

I’ll never leave you again.

The kiss turns into a thing devouring; teeth and tongues and fire and possession, like they’re trying to climb inside each other. Grabbing, pulling, tugging–

And then the air is cool on Tony’s overheated face, on his tingling, bitten-hot lips.

His confusion lasts all of maybe a second (if that) and then he’s gasping Peter’s name, a sound that comes out almost scandalized at the pressure of Peter’s mouth around the head of his cock, pressure that sinks lower and lower until his son’s throat is constricting him, pulsing around him as Peter swallows and gags himself on Tony’s length.

Tony barely manages not to buck up into the heat; it feels good, so fucking good, so perfect. He has to check, though, has to know Peter’s not doing this for the wrong reasons (what does that even mean, everything about this is wrong and awful and erotic).

“Baby, you don’t have to–fuck–push yourself so hard,” he manages, carding his fingers through Peter’s hair again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He groans when Peter pulls most of the way off, catching his breath for a moment without taking his mouth of entirely off the tip of Tony’s cock, before he pulls back to give it a filthy open-mouthed kiss, aiming a tear-streaked, defiant look up at Tony.

“You’ve said that before.”

Again, it’s not the challenge (the deliciously rasped defiance spilling from his beautiful boy’s cock-roughened throat), but the fear, the uncertainty in his son’s eyes that makes Tony give in to himself. The words flow, relief from pressure he’s been denying for so long.

He touches Peter’s face, moves to card his fingers through his hair. Speaks softly, his chest flooded with warmth and want and completeness.  

“You want Daddy to remind you how much he wants you? How much he loves you?”

Peter shivers, presses into Tony’s palm like a cat, keeps his damp eyes focused up at his Daddy.

“Yes, please–please, Dad.”

The shame is still there, the guilt, but Tony’s gone. So far gone.

He’s been on his way to hell for a long time, began the descent when Peter was sixteen and Tony felt that first flicker of attraction to his own son. Tony’s weak and in love, and all he’d done by shipping Peter off to college was put off the inevitable.

It’s been them, Tony and Peter, father and son, through everything, through the loss of Mary when Peter was too little to really understand the forever kind of gone, through all of Peter’s childhood milestones. Tony loves his son, has always loved him, well before the shift into what they are, and he would do anything to make him happy, to make him feel good.

He leans forward, cradles the front of Peter’s throat in his palm, fingers and thumb resting over his carotids without pressing, the other hand carding fingers through Peter’s hair until he gets a good handful above the nape.

He brushes a featherlight kiss across Peter’s lips, another and another until his boy whines and tries to chase him when he pulls away. It’s the only kind of chasing Tony’s going to make Peter do, ever again.

“I’ll remind you, baby,” he murmurs, “Every day for the rest of our lives.”

*******

Everything Tag List: @silkystark, @hoeforthegays, @the-amazing-spidertwink, @starkercrossedlovers

[nightwingvixen23]

JayRoy short fanfic I whipped up inspired by this god damned song right here lol👇

@aceofenderdark i was in a legit mood lol

💘💘💘

Roy speaks in the way that Siren’s sing, flooding venom in to my mouth and watching it drip like a ruptured peach to the sting of front teeth. Ripping such fragile skin into nasty pieces of flesh, letting lay bare the very salacious core hidden in the seam. 

His flaming hair has grown out (frequently used to twisting or tying it up into a knot) tonight it remains loose. Untamed. And my fingers play through that somehow flawless shit storm, tangling each lock into madness; they overall might dangle into his glaring eyes but that does nothing to befog the fire smoking from within. He looks wild above me. Never have I asked to be such a blooded piece of meat at the ready to be gutted; staring into the yawning mouth of the lion, of whom, is fucking starved. 

Right now, I know that he knows that it’s not his nails nor teeth that I fear will gift me new damage, but his eyes. They inspire, burn, destroy. I’m left suspended in the company of a gore leaking orifice that bellows ‘look at me’ should my mind toe outside the line of our depraved Love Nest; this being no more then the feral charge then skirmish to the floor of a Gotham City safehouse.

We sure are givin’ some poor son of a bitch a show, I think, spotting the newfangled surveillance camera I hadn’t noticed sooner, newly installed high left. My mind darts to Tim making my hands sweat, however, Roy’s fingers bruising my chin pull me back down into the waters of our fucked up little fantasy. 

The holsters loyal to each my thighs are disengaged, followed by the faint skidding rattle of two M1911 pistols being launched across a cement floor. This all titters a secret to me that I am now in the hands of no mercy.

It’s during a moment like this (offering myself over to be caught in the line of fire) that I swear by the unholy mess in me that Roy Harper is some sort of Saintly Deity of Insanity that which no god can put a name to. Why else would I worship this fucker’s dick like i do ? Call me crude, vulgar, whatever...doesn’t change the fact that the shitty ass truth, is in fact, the shitty ass truth. That truth being that I demand his unsympathetic grip akin to an infant demanding it’s very first breath of life. The affliction of every scar mapping my body is something that I didn’t fuckin’ ask to be met with, nevertheless, something about the power that comes with directing an overdose of a serpentine thirst such as this one that makes me feel more in control then when my hands are gripping lead. 

Our lips meet with vigor. I’ve never known it to be smooth. Never known us to take our time, yanno ? It’s always fierce. Hot. A clash of potent teeth seeking to grip and rip apart tender skin. To taste blood. And what’s a good fuck without the taste of blood ? C’mon. We’re deep. We’re thorough: two adrenaline filled junkies having gotten our first real swallow of the golden necator that has seduced us, dripping from uncut fruit laying bare in our wake while with instructions to never have one bite; we’re obsessed.

The tinkering jangle of an unhooked belt. The lick of Roy’s tongue into my mouth still tasting of shitty liquor from the corner store. A sinners Paradise. I tilt my head back for him and let teeth ascend onto my neck. I’m the lamb, sticking it’s neck out for the butcher. I want this. I want him to brand me intensely then cool it with a kiss because that is something that this world has done too many fucking times to me, and I’ve got the scars to prove it. 

Yeah, only because the world never did leave a kiss of apology.

Chewed mint gum, stale tobacco, and secrets kept out in the rain for far too long, left to tarnish with the coming of nightfall; this is his eternal flavour. 

Isn’t there some goddamn way for us to endure this way ? Twined together ? Just like this. Simply him ritualizing my abdomen that rose and fell with shaky gasps, his tongue marveling the carved indent of muscle there, tracing every groove proving personal fortitude. Proving that my ass didn’t get dropped down onto this fuckin waste land of a planet just to roll over like a creature without fight.

A trifling jungle, Life is.

“God. What a million mother fuckers would trade to see the Red Hood in this wrecked state. You wanna beg for me, doll ? That’s right. Beg for me then,” Roy’s voice is an instrument. His words, musical of filth. I’m being serenaded by the devil and it’s mother fuckin’ magical. Even so, I aim to punch him in the throat. I wasn’t gonna do much damage, was just gonna let him know what toes the line, but his hand wraps around my curled wrist and my bicep tenses. I’m straining to reach him. Straining to infect him, however somewhere in the tangle of that violence dance I strained also for his mouth like an addict for a needle. A taboo puppet. A homicidal angel, like he once called me before I spit in his eye earning my face into the wall.

What even are we doing, Roy Harper ? Why do we do this ? And why does it feel so right to scream your name into the hush of a blacked out room while you turn me inside out ? I’d ring God on the manner, but fuck—I just start pissing myself with laughter each time I start.

Gotta love this shade of grey I’ve established my life in the thick of. Grey is the blueprint of a soul caught in limbo. It’s a nice color. The ambiance is sedated, disrupted here and there by the tortured hollar of a condemned conscience—but life ain’t no fucking picnic.

Then again, even a tongue tied fool knows that.

…...

I can feel the frayed corners of ultimate reality beginning to shimmer. Roy watches me rising high even while knowing that soon I’ll crash, we will, together. And it’s so gorgeous for just a second that I could die like this. I know that it gets old hearing others romanticize death, yet I serious in the face of it. Serious and deeply, deeply in enamoured. Swept upon sandy beaches as to evade the lusting leviathan of the sea again and again. But I just wade back into the waters, deluded at times. Something like a drunk falling around town with an empty bottle of gin; everyone stares but no one will give directions to the nearest pub.

The vast gulf of the abyss beckons nearer with breath peppered by wanderlust and saliva spiked in moonshine. I can only take so much, however I’m forced, and so gorge on this easy feast.

Has a human ever been so unsteady and yet resistant ? So crippled and yet defiant ? I have many bones to pick with myself. I’ve splintered the masterpiece of my life into something ugly.

But I am a beast, aren’t I? And a Beast has always been one to see the Beauty in crude things. There is peace in the bloodstains, there is marvelous enrichment in the grimace of the faces. Cut me deeper Roy, squeeze red from my flesh so to let me continue my artistry. Open up the brushes of my fingers with your fangs and allow this woeful composer to create something for us both to laugh at.

Each finger in my mouth taste like pure sin. They scrape my gums until lips go down onto mine; then the fingers are put back into place. I choke. He chuckles. Fucking bastard.

Through these eyes of mine white with carnal tears, I look up and into the face of the man I didn’t mean to fall in love with wearing my blood upon his lips like a god damned badge of honor.

There’ll be no victor at the end of this unchaste warfare and I feel the cannon fires terminal blow. Yup. that’s my fucked up heart. What a tool.  

But it’s been this way for centuries, hasn’t it ? 

Sensuality is the baddest of bitches with hips that carve into yours tastefully. She’s the perfect fusion of warm and wanton that leaves you so powerfully drugged, that when you turn over to sleep soundly for having seen Nirvana it’s self, she’s able to hijack your shit with ease. Now your ass is left high and dry. But hey, you gotta relish her; notably on the day you find Sensuality knocking at your door again for having conceived with you a child named Regret, something that she drops off for you to raise alone. Now you’re in solitary as Regret clings to you tightly, sucking the life from your chest, but yet, still you nourish it. You love it because shit, it’s half of Sensuality isn’t it ? And had she not once been your reason worth living ?

I twist my fingers around Roy’s cross necklace still finding a way to glint silver in the dark, and pull him down into me with a grunt. For once, it’s his eyes that are glossed with hysterical fever, swimming and asphyxiated by all 7 of the Deadly Sins.

Yeah. That’s right fucker. At least for tonight, “You’re mine.”

Was that his whine that I heard ? Unquestionable was his moan. I think I hear him praying, but that doesn’t change the fact that come sunrise

We’ll both be waking up alone; 

the bruises I left on his neck the only souvenirs of my Love.

[lustingtc]

7th May 2019

I’ve got a phat headache 🥰🥰🥰 I’m gonna fucking die lolololol XD

So the bAD J,,, we’re bonding 😔😔

We’re bonding over how Dogman is a fitty🤪🤪🤙🏻 he told her to get a bottle down that she threw but she’s literally 3 foot so she was like “I can’t.” 😞😞😞 n so he was like “I didn’t see then. 😉😉😉” JSKSJSKSK UWU

Maths with Dogman tho,,,, ohmy-

So he helped me n O bc we’re the dumbest bitches in that room ☺️☺️☺️✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻

Anyways Dogman came to help us oof,, but me and O are just,,,,ohmygod,,, we were being SO FUCKING DUMB JEEZ,,

Whenever Dogman would talk we’d just look at each other and laugh,,, like SHE FUCKING GRUNTED WHEN I SPOKE LMAOO😭😭😭😭

THEN!!!! I said the awnser for her bc she was being a slow bitch n she started shouting “OHMYGOD THAT WAS MY TIME TO SHINE!!!” 😡😡😡😡 fUCking IN FRONT OF MY BOYFRIEND JFC!!!! Lmao he just laughed awkwardly oogZ

Anyways 💁‍♀️

We’re doing averages n like,, I’m a dumb bitch and I can’t tell the differences between all the M’s in like mean, mode and shit like those are the only ones I know bc like shit fuck I’m dumb

So Dogman was tryna teach me them n yeah,,, didn’t work lmao 🤪🤙🏻🤙🏻

But at the end of lesson me and O where leaving and Dogman stops us and is like “K. What’s the mode?” MY DUMBASS IS LIKE ‘awe shit. We don’t even know how to count’

So 🥰🥰 my 🤪 DUMB 😳😳 A S S 😋😋 is like “...uh. The one where you... and like... you... yeah.” So. 😚✌🏻 he most likely thinks I’m a dumb bitch. Jk he laughed a little and told me to work on it but this is mean and I’ve been writing this for 2 hours so fuck that (hi yes lmao I’m the worst at doing everything)

Now A will give her experience with T during her test. (Just in time bitch bc I just wrote what she told me dumb cunt)

Like always. Language and opinions used are not my own

I walked up the stairs n he heard me going upstairs. he stood in front of me and smiled showing his manky teeth. he had a light beard, but it was longer than last time, and it was darker [i love my fave depressed king]. i come in and he's like "feeling good " acting like some black rapper. I just gave him that "kys" look n sat down. he was like " oh i'll do this student and then do A" but he pronounced my name in the spanish way which was cool i guess. I was daydreaming n he comes out all like " what ARE YOU DOING". i was like " u never gave me my stupid work" n he was like " O" he got me the general convo card n walked off. this is the bit that made me question wether he was autistic or not, HE COMES BACK 2 SECONDS AFTER N HE WAS LIKE " ACTUALLY, I'LL HAVE THAT" n left me to daydream again. the old woman gave me my paper n stuff and he wrote my name for me [enter, god I wish that was me]. i look down at my name and it says " A Ayo" aYo??? [actual full name 110%] he was a tired man for sure. he was like do u have a pen n i was like no lmao so he points at my tit [GOD 😔 I WISH THAT WAS ME 🤤😫] n hes like u liar so after explaining that the pen didnt work he gave me one. he comes back 12mins after n he's like aahh ur turn bro alright get ready here's the good shit, i might hate him but he was ok during this bit. before the test he's like 'how r u feeling' n I said ' i dont want to this cba bc im fasting' the man starts fucking cackling and laughing like a rat [T’s islamaphobic scandal hi]. i was just like ' :/ ' and he was like " all these kids were like 'im nervous' but ur like cba ayee' i was like xd [this is the banter confidence I wish I had] . he goes on to the speaking bit and u could tell he enjoyed talking to someone fluent [we love teachers who actually enjoy teaching]. he said "what do u think is the worse conflict" or some shit cba to english rn bro. i was like lol lemme mess with him and said" holocaust" [reminder T is natively German!!] he was like um... asdfghjkl He asked " whats ur fave tv show when u were a kid" and i was like um teletubbies and he started laughing [*rebuys all my teletubbie badges*], i felt suffocated so i move a little and my leg touches his inner thigh area [;-;]. i was like " omg no forgive me god " n pretended it didnt happen. we were talking abt teletubbies n stuff until the test ended n i was like " i fucked that up" he starts laughing again n he's all like " ummm no ur not" anyhoo we were all like " yes i am no ur not" u know the intimacy you'll never get ayee [report A guys. Dropping her @. Doxx the bitch]. also at the start my candidate number was 7000 and he was like UR SO LUCKY OMG MY FAVE NUMBER IS 7 [MY FAVOURITE NUMBER IS 7 & ITS ALSO MY BDAY NUMBER SO WE ARE DESTINED TO BE!!11!!!!1!]

So that was an excerpt from A. My heart aches and I miss him and I wish I was an anxiety ridden pussy 😊😊✌🏻✌🏻

BUT I ENDED UP SEEING HIM 🥰🥰🥰🥰💝💞💓💗💖💘💕

I saw him in his class after final lesson talking to his tutors HOY,,

He didn’t have his glasses on :3 he looks so cute and like uwuuwuwuwuwuwu,,, but I’m pretty sure he saw me stare at him 😳😳😳

I’m pretty sure he made eye contact with me 😖😖😰😰😰😰 hhhhhh

But yh he cute 💝💞💓💗💖💘💕

TO MAKE JT EVEN BETTER!!!!!

My girl S who lives right next to the road by the school (she sees teachers walking past all the time) and her windows are literally at the end of my road

She texts me saying T’s on his way down my road 🤩🤩🤩🤩

So I wait and I see him!!!!! 💝💞💓💗💖💘💕💝💞💓💗💖💘💕!!!!

He’s THE CUTEST I SWEAR!!!!!

He had his apple earphones in (yeah he’s broke) and he pushed his hair back with his hand n like 😖😖🤤🤤🤤💝💞💓💗💖💘💕

I was so tempted to be that stalker bitch and snap a pic but I was like “Hold up. That’s fucking creepy” BUT UWU!!!!!!! I LOVE 1 MAN!!!!

[redvelvetreel]

Red Velvet Reel 4.3: A Crabapple A Day

                                            [Fic Directory]

Pairing: [Married] Spicyhoney (Underfell Papyrus x Underswap Papyrus)

Summary: Undyne finally shows up, and tells Stretch and Blue the rumors about Edge and Red- much to their delight. The Fell Bros take advantage of the situation to try and scare Undyne....

Characters: Edge (Underfell Papyrus) & Stretch (Underswap Papyrus) & Red (Underfell Sans) & Blue (Underswap Sans) & Undyne (Underswap Undyne)

Contains: Mpreg/Skelepreg! Awkward & Anxious Swapdyne! Red and Edge being mean, lol.  

Rating: Teen and up! (I guess?)

Note:  Allie is Swap!Alphys’ nickname, of course! :’D She’s just mentioned~ While technically she works with Edge on the ‘military matters,’ she’s more of Swap!Asgore’s personal body guard. TBH, Edge’s got enough confidence, bluster, and charisma to make it work by himself most of the time anyway.  

“I’M SO LATE AND I AM INCREDIBLY SORRY ABOUT THAT-” “Dyne-a-mite!” Stretch was on the other side of the room in an instant, cutting off the incredibly nervous-looking fish monster by giving her a big bear hug. “Pap-Bomb!” She sounded equally excited, squeezing back hard enough someone’s bones popped. She reached up to loop her arm around his neck, noogieing the top of his head affectionately. “Where have you BEEN?! You missed out on the newest m00n-single! Serena got a rap solo, and she was so good! I didn’t like her look very much though- gray hair! White I could live with, but gray?!” Stretch winced, still hunched over and trapped in her grip, “Owie Ow Ow-  I’ve been busy-“ Undyne’s grin widened, “Don’t I know it, you sly-“

Blue cleared his throat pointedly, and Undyne literally jumped in alarm. Her face darkened in a mortified blush, tripping over her feet to stand in front of him. She grabbed Blue’s hand and started shaking it hard enough his entire arm was moving. “HEY MR. EDGE OH WAIT YOU HAVE A RANK UH UM COLONEL NO WAIT ITS HIGHER GENERAL GENERALISSIMO IN CHIEF IM SO SOR- SORRY I DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT MILITARY THINGS SIR EDGE IVE HEARD A LOT ABOUT YOU-“ Blue sighed, prying her vice grip off of his fingers and shaking them out with a wince, “Ow! It’s me, Undyne!” She blinked at him owlishly, putting her slightly skewed glasses back in place firmly and leaning forward. “Oh. So it is. Hi Mr. Sans. Wait. Sans. Hi Sans.” Blue smiled warmly, reaching out to gently clap her on the shoulder. She jumped with a little scream. “Why are you so nervous?! It’s just us!” “It’s not just you!” Undyne hissed, leaning close and looking around suspiciously. Edge and Red had been quick to move out of her line of sight, quietly watching her every movement with strategic calculation. “Pap’s husband and his brother-in-law are here too! Didn’t they come with you? Are they coming later? I’m super nervous about meeting them! First impressions are the most important!” Blue raised his browbones, exchanging a quick glance with Stretch. Edge had knocked her out cold that one time... It was probably for the best she didn’t remember that incident. “Why? What have you heard?” Undyne turned to Blue looking incredulous, not realizing he hadn’t been the one to ask the question. “Wha- you guys told me! And Allie, but she doesn’t know them very well cause they don’t work together often. She said they’re a different kind of monster. Like how some humans look pretty much the same, but they come from different countries and cultures? They’re like immigrant monsters! Which I never even thought was possible! We were all in the same Underground, but no one seems to know them!” Edge and Red exchanged a look behind her back, and Stretch started to sweat a little. “Can’t get anything past you! My mail-order husband! Directly shipped from an alternate universe!” Undyne frowned, rubbing her arms self-consciously, “That’s just... a pet theory... it’s dumb, I guess, yeah...” Blue gave Stretch a disapproving look, turning to Undyne with a reassuring smile, “I think it’s a very interesting theory! What makes you think that about Red and Edge?” Undyne opened her mouth, before stopping to look at Stretch a little warily. He sighed, slumping, “Sorry Dyne-amo, I was just teasing. I could never afford the cross dimensional shipping fees!” She laughed despite herself, punching  him in the arm in camaraderie. Stretch blinked back tears of pain. Undyne’s excitement came back tenfold, “Allie says that Edge is unlike any other monster she’s ever met, which is why he can’t be from around here! He’s got the highest LOVE of any non-Boss monster EVER! Even higher than hers!” Undyne lowered her voice to a reverential whisper, “But she said he’s always professional and observant, wearing his scars like badges of honor and keeping his thoughts and emotions a secret. A grizzled veteran whose calm is a mask for the raging storm and power beneath! He’s as cold as steel in the winter, as sharp and mysterious as a blade in the moonlight! The glinting Edge of a sword poised to strike!” Edge didn’t say anything, but Blue could see the stars in his eyes all the way from across the room as he visibly vibrated. Stretch snickered, trying very unconvincingly to disguise it as a cough. “He sounds super dreamy- I wish he were my husband.” Edge didn’t look like he cared (or heard) still riding that flattered high. Undyne gave Stretch an incredulous look, “As though you don’t cry about how hot and cool he is every time we have A-Drama night.” Stretch blushed, looking down at the ground and playing with the cuffs of his sleeves. “Yeah, well, I never wrote detailed fanfiction about our future together!” Undyne turned an impressive shade of purple, “Wha-?! I-?! That’s!” “What about his brother?” Blue cut in to save them both from their embarrassment, although Red and Edge seemed to be enjoying themselves. “Allie says he usually sticks close to Edge, so she hasn’t had much of a one on one conversation with him. Red walks with a self-assured swagger, and has next level reflexes. She doesn’t know his LOVE or any of his stats because he manages to move out of the way before she can even try to CHECK him!” There was that familiar spark of excitement in her eye, and Stretch smiled fondly, “He’s irreverent and bold, speaking his mind to everyone, including the King and Queen themselves! Open and dangerous like a nail-studded baseball bat, warm like the last rays of summer sunlight in an alley without an exit. The silver tongue between Red-stained fangs!” Red’s grin was equally large, turning to his brother in glee. They had some sort of quick, whispered conversation, agreeing on something and- SLAM! Blue had seen it coming and he still flinched as the door slammed shut. Undyne and Stretch, distracted, both jumped and clung to each other. “Interesting.” Edge and Red radiated confidence and power, circling them leisurely like sharks sensing blood in the water. Edge circled to their right, lifting a browbone as he pointedly looked them head to toe. Undyne visibly shuddered under his scrutiny, clinging to Stretch even tighter in obvious apprehension. “Red, I need a second opinion,” Edge sounded disinterested, pointedly pulling a file from his inventory and sharpening the tips of his claws, “What does this look like to you?” Red, hands folded behind his head irreverently, slowly circled around them from the left, scrutinizing them in a way that had both Stretch and Undyne squirming uncomfortably. He scoffed loudly as he came back to stand by his brother, mouth quirking into a sly smirk. “Thinkin’ there’s somethin’ fishy goin’ on, Boss.” Undyne tensed, looking down at where she had been holding onto Stretch with a vice grip with mounting alarm. She let go and shoved him backwards hard enough he ended up crashing into the door, scrambling to smooth her clothes as though she had been caught doing something indecent. Undyne’s face turned such a dark shade of purple and she was positively shaking with nerves, stumbling over her words so badly it was essentially unintelligible. Edge tucked his file away, arms folded behind his back, calculating and menacing. Red stuffed one hand in his pocket, baring all of his teeth in a nasty smile, dangerous and intimidating.

[Part 1]  [Part 2]   [Part 3 - Here!]  [Part 4]  [Part 5]  [Part 6] [Part 7]

[canaryatlaw]

alright. well today was.....the first day of the bar exam. Don’t know if I have any better description than that. it was something alright. I woke up to my alarm (which I had set to the Mean Girls song I’ve been using as my pump up song but starts with just Kevin screaming “Yo Yo Mathletes!!”) and did get myself out of bed, I was planning to leave at 6:15 so I had plenty of time to get ready. So I brushed my teeth and changed, they said to dress in layers because the exam rooms might be hot or cold (spoiler alert, it was FREEZING), so I picked a tank top and leggings with a zip up hoodie if needed. The email they sent (they people the people from my school who are trying to get us to pass the bar) yesterday said that when you wake up read a book or something (but no outlines) for 10 minutes to wake up your brain, or something like that, so I read the little local Chicago magazine that they keep in hotels saying all the cool things to do in Chicago this summer. I made the microwave minute muffin that I was telling you all about last night, but I was super careful to stir it all the way so there were no unmoistened bits and it was a wonderful double chocolatey muffin experience that I was very pleased with, and then ate a granola bar for good measure because you know, good breakfasts. when it was like 6:15 I headed downstairs where there were several other law students (recognizable because of the plastic bags we all had with our computers inside them) were all waiting and got in an uber, I thought of maybe sharing with some of them but there are like 3 different test sites all in this area so idk where they all were going. And in this area I mean these are the only sites for all of Chicago (and potentially all of Illinois? don’t quote me on that but that might’ve been the case) and there were a ton of kids from other law schools around, mostly recognizable because they were all wearing stuff from their school which I apparently did not think to do, but oh well. I arrived there around 6:20 (it was a really short ride obviously, that was the point) and got out of the uber to see my bus orgs professor standing there looking slightly confused, and he saw me so I said hi and he said that a group of them were supposed to be here greeting us (which was also in the email from yesterday) and that he had been told to get there at 6:15 but he was now the only person present, which sounded familiar to me always be the on time person. But we chatted a little which was nice, I hadn’t really seen him since the class ended in the fall, and despite me finding bus orgs terribly boring I did rather enjoy him as a professor. So the doors were opening at 6:30, so a bunch of us were just kinda milling around in front of the building. It was on one of the college campuses around here (it’s U of Illinois Chicago) in a building called the “forum” which apparently has large rooms in it where a lot of people can sit for tests. So they open the doors at 6:30, there are metal detectors directly after the doors, and they were checking bags as well. I’m not sure if metal detectors would find the kind of contraband they were actually looking for (like I’m sure it’s good to know there aren’t any guns too, but nobody’s really concerned about sneaking a gun into the bar exam), they were more focused on keeping all electronics out of the room, which is understandable. I still have had my period today but very little cramping, so I didn’t need to use the thingy that I stowed in my bag anyway but wouldn't have been able to use during the test because technically it’s an electronic. But we got through the metal detectors and were directed to tables where we showed them our photo IDs and they gave us our photo name badges which we then had to wear for always the rest of the test. I have the world’s worst photo of me on mine, but it’s technically my fault because I’m the one who uploaded it, but in my defense it was like, two hours before the window for submitting your application was gonna close and like 10 o clock at night so I just took a photo of my unmake-uped face against my white wall without me smiling like they wanted and surprise surprise, it looks terrible, but oh well I’m over it. We then got shown the room where we could leave our stuff we couldn’t bring into the test room, which was pretty much everything. I was using my black legends drawstring bag that we got in Florida, so I left my phone, the charger I brought with me and the external battery (because I’m prepared) along with some food and a gatorade, plus a few other things. The only things we could take into the room were our laptops and chargers, then in a little ziplock bag you could have your photo id, cash/credit card, transportation card, keys, pads and earplugs. We all had giant ziplock bags (the 2 1/2 gallon ones) to carry our laptops and chargers in because that’s what they told us to get. So we got into the test room with our little bags and computers. I found my seat all the way in the front right corner, and this room is BIG, like best estimate there were maybe 2,000 people? You didn’t really see it until everyone went to leave and it was like impossible to get through the doors and then you’re like oh wow, there’s a lot of people here. But I was in the second row, third seat in from the right wall, so pretty much on the edge, but hey it’s fine we got a perfect view of the guy at the podium who was legit right in front of us. They had the two big screens down both displaying a “clock” tab with the time counting up by seconds. In the instructions it had said if we were mac users who didn’t have a usb port you could bring your little converter thing, so I took mine with me just in case, but didn’t think I would need it. I got to the instructions they had on the tables for the computers and it had this whole thing about no usb’s or data transferring devices and I was like shit am I gonna get in trouble for this? So I took it to the proctors right in front and said it said in the instructions that I could bring it but idk if it qualifies under these rules. They both pretty much looked at me like they had no idea what I was talking about, probably because they didn’t understand what the thing actually did, but recommended I go on to the tech people, who I asked and they said oh yeah that’s fine, the other’s just don’t understand how to use things lol so that was solved. I didn’t think I’d need it, I just didn’t want to get in trouble for having it. So I sat down and logged onto my computer, got the exam stuff up and waited. There was this stuff on the program saying if you didn’t have wifi access you’d have to wait to upload your exam answers to later and I was like well that sounds perturbing so I checked if we could get wifi and that was a big nope, so that was a nice little anxiety inducer. Waited for a while, more people came, I think we officially started at either 8:30 or 9, I don’t remember exactly. First was the “Illinois Essay Exam” which is the only part of the test that is completely unique to Illinois, the other portions are all used by other states (most states have switched to what they call the Uniform Bar Exam which has reciprocity across most states, but Illinois isn’t switching until next July [boo], so we instead had pieces of the UBE but not the whole thing). I was a bit nervous about this part because a lot of it depended on knowing where Illinois law differed from the majority law you would otherwise learn, and there was the potential to be hit with some questions from the really fringe subjects like personal property that you know I had a 2 hour lecture on and that was it, so I was glad to see it was mostly mainline stuff, so that wasn’t bad. 90 minutes for that, 3 essays, not bad. After that we switched into the Multistate Performance Test that most other states use as well, and it’s a closed packet of info from which you need to draw up some sort of legal document based on the facts and laws inclosed. I had thought this would probably be the easiest part for me because given all the info I can write stuff no problem, and it definitely wasn’t hard, but it was.....odd. Not like any of the practice ones I’ve done, it was about drafting language for the articles of incorporation of this rugby league and dealing with a bunch of corporate stuff that seemed really easy, like stupid easy? So either I did really well or I totally fucked it up, but I’m fairly certain it was the first lol, so that was a relief, even though the nerdy side of me was like awww now I don’t get to write a long essay that I’m really good at writing, but that’s really okay. We breaked for lunch, I saw a few of my friends briefly but then got separated from them. The deal was that the school was going to bring us lunches, and they were set up somewhere for us to get to. When we left the building there were like 3 other schools set up with their lunches right there but ours weren’t, so I was trying to follow the directions to the spot they said in the email but it was not going well and I could tell I was just getting lost, and I was like fuck it I’ll just get some food from the popeye’s that’s right here, except it all got fucked up and was spicy and I couldn’t eat any of it except the biscuit, so basically lunch was a massive failure on multiple levels, but I had some pretzels in my bag so I wasn’t starving. Got back in and ready to go, the afternoon was the Multistate Essay Exam (don’t you love all these titles?) which was similar to the Illinois one but based on federal/majority law. It still had the opportunity to get into some fringe subjects though. it was 3 hours, 6 essays, so same odds as before. It can be hard for me to tell how well I actually did coming out of a test like that because I’m really good at bs-ing and I know it, so if I can come up with some good bs my mind thinks it’s all good when it could actually not be, but whatever. The first one was a con law question that was about marijuana of course, but was kind of on an odd basis, but I think I got the law part right so that was good. There was one about a corporation where I got to use my favorite line of the day “....because things that do not exist cannot enter into business deals” and one regarding trusts that was probably the biggest fringe subject, but I spent the last few days going over trusts (for like, the first time, but still) so the rules were fairly fresh in my mind and I think I got all of the intricacies of it right. There was one question that was just like straight evidence questions, and like those are my jam, so I get typing and I’m going and going and- oh wait, I hit the character limit and I didn’t even start the third prompt within the question yet. WHOOPS. The character limit was 4600, which really is not very much, so I had to go back and remove the bs I wrote in the first two prompts, just because I knew I could write it, and then wrote my third answer and had to move some more stuff around and delete some more bs, but I ended up with a final product that was exactly 4599 characters, which is really a masterpiece, so I was like alright perfect I’m not touching it from here lol. I ended up finishing with about 20 minutes left, so I read over a few of them and made minor changes, just details and such. Then we were done and had to wait for them to collect all the papers and then account for all of them before we could get released, then of course I had to make it through the massive crowd just to get outside. I did get outside and got an uber to my hotel room because I had to go there for wifi to upload my friggin exam answers, and let me tell you guys, this was the most anxiety inducing thing, because when you click submit on the test it will try to upload the answers but then see you don’t have wifi and be like oh it failed and the proctors are just like “yeah just go home and when you get wifi open the program and it’ll upload the answers” and I’m just like.....you couldn’t have just let us into the wifi you already have set up in this building??? Like do you know how much anxiety this process is going to give me?? The proctor said to make sure we hold onto our laptops as in the previous year someone had actually left theirs on a Chicago public transit bus which was like oH GOD WHY level nightmare, so I was making sure that didn’t happen. The uber took a while to get there because it was rush hour and there was traffic, and while I had been taking the afternoon part of the test I was like I’m gonna get out and text Jess and bug her until she agrees to go get food with me, then when I turned my phone back on and opened twitter I already had a message from her being like I can’t wait till Thursday morning like we originally said I need to see you and get food after the test tomorrow and I was just like bitch come get food with me now which she readily agreed to, which was easier than I expected lol. The uber finally came, I got to my hotel and logged onto wifi so the exam answers would upload, and legit right after they did that I switched a few things out of my bags and then headed back out. I walked a few blocks to the train that’s nearby, it’s the same stop as my church so I was familiar, and took that to the red line and then up to where we had agreed to meet because Jess wanted to take me to her spy restaurant which is really the only restaurant she knows in the city of Chicago (and now that I wrote that she’s probably going to wind up reading it even though she never reads these posts) and we definitely did not get lost getting there, that did not happen, but we did get there and it was cool, you just enter this random door on a building and it brings you to this little entry way where you have to say the “password” and get confirmed, then the wall opens and there are stairs down to the actual restaurant, which was pretty cool, outfitted with a lot of spy and James Bond stuff. We ended up just getting a table by the bar because it was kind of crowded, so we just chilled and she told me literally everything that happened at SDCC this weekend which, let me tell you, was a trip, then we decided we’d split an appetizer of cheese curds, then we were both gonna order the grilled cheese that also contains cheese curds because we are 100% those people lol. The service was kinda slow but I didn’t really care because we were talking and have fun, but of course those are Jess’ stories to tell so I won’t spoil any of them here other than saying she had a ridiculously awesome time, even if it had some stressful moments with stupid security guards. We eventually finished and paid, then ran around the restaurant checking out the rest of the spy stuff and hitting random buttons that caused different things to happen which was pretty cool, then to get out you had to put a dollar in a payphone which would then ring and give you a code which you had to enter, and then the wall would open which led to this staircase down and then up again that was covered with the little name tags they give you to write your “spy name” on, and then when you get to the door you come out in the lobby of this random hotel that’s like, a fully functional hotel, so that was pretty fun. We eventually figured out how to get to the train (read: I wasn’t navigating and Jess only got lost a little bit this time) and we decided to save ice cream for tomorrow even though I wanted ice cream now, because I was also full of cheese curds and other types of cheese. So I got on the red line and then switched to the blue line, then got off and walked the rest of the bit back to the hotel. While walking back my parents called, just wanted to check in so I told them everything and they seemed pretty happy about all of it, so that was good. Since we did all the essays today tomorrow is just going to be the multiple choice questions, 200 of them in two sessions of three hours each, 100 per session. They’re all hypos though so they take a while to answer and the supposed time allotment for each question is 1.8 minutes, so it’s a solid amount of work I’d say. It was like 9:15 by the time I got back and I desperately needed to shower because I hadn't since Monday morning because I didn’t want to have to wake up even earlier this morning to do it, so I got in the shower and changed into my pajamas, watched tv and did internet stuff for a bit before figuring I still had to get up pretty early, though an hour later than today, so that’s an improvement, so I’d better start writing this post and that’s what I did. Of course it took longer than usual because I end up being incredibly detailed about days like today even when I don’t consciously think to do it. Oh well. And now I’m here, it’s almost midnight, and I need to wake up at 6:30 am, so I’m gonna take all of those as reasons why it’s time for me to go to bed now. Goodnight babes. Stay magical.

[alfred-e-neuman]

Star Trek: Disco Ep5 Thoughts.

Here is another round of notes from my viewing of episode five. There isn’t that many this episode because I got lost in the story and forgot to write some stuff down, so there will have to be a quick run over paragraph at the end of things. Here we go.

 If you didn’t read my last one, I will write down what I wrote on my note pad (my memory is shit) then I will elaborate afterwards.  

 “Chris Pike and John Archer mention.” I feel like this will help pin point a better spot on the time line seeing names from past and current known captains on screen. Archer was the first captain of the enterprise and I assume it’s long past John Archer’s life, but I assume Chris Pike is out being the current captain of the Enterprise. None of the other names on the list rang any direct bells.

 “This is fucking cool” That F Bomb THO!! I have a memory of Data saying fuck in something but I can’t seem to find it, so I assume it’s a false memory. But to hear it on Star Trek was like hearing someone say it as a child. I had that “ohhhhhhh, that’s a bad word” moment at TWENTY FUCKING SEVEN years old because someone on Star Trek said it. Lmao. It then dawned on me that because this is on a private streaming site that literally anything could go, but part of me kinda hopes they don’t take it too far. The “fuck” was funny and unexpected and kind of a nice grounding in the characters of the show, but I’m really hoping that there isn’t any “Game of Thrones” moments, ya know. Good on ya Tilly, breaking Star Trek ground.

 “Stewart <3” I already love Stewart and I kinda hate Lorca for throwing it. I have a soft spot for tiny, side-kick characters.

 “Those Disrupter Blasts are cool” I remember them mentioning a disrupter blast feeling like your whole nervous system sets itself on fire, then your insides boil into the most intense cramping and churning feeling while you get erased from existence in a flash of agony and terror… these blasts looked like that description. I dig it.

 “Star Trek is gay” I know DS9 has some gay moments, and the Abrams’ Trek featured a shoed in gay character that George Takei himself didn’t approve of, but having a couple, an actual married on board couple brushing their fucking teeth together gay couple feels like it’s official now. I’ve always referred to DS9 as “Gays in Space” but this feels different. I just really really really reaaaaallly hope they keep them both together AND ALIVE. Also, I kinda like the idea of young Stamets and Culber bonding over science like two adorable nerds. Also Also, I enjoyed the fact they didn’t need to push the “THEY’RE GAY TOTALLY GAY” image super far. Like I could totally see them using that moment to make them kiss or something, but that whole scene was amazing. It felt real and it didn’t feel forced. The love between them was genuine and believable.

 “Star Trek Pajamas” I dig that little black badge on maroon pajamas that Stamets and Culber were wearing. I’m also noticing that most of the off-duty clothing has the emblem on it, even the bags and cases all have the Star Trek logo on it. I wonder when they start using the sheer night wear that Picard and Riker wears in TNG. Lol

 This episode was great and I really enjoyed watching it. It felt like a “problem of the week” episode while also attributing to the main narrative of the season. New crew member on board too. A soldier looking for orders that happens to meet a warmonger looking for unquestioned obedience, what could go wrong. Still want to know more about the other crew members. I don’t like the fact I know nothing of their helmsgal or the robotic crew member. Or the communications officer for that matter. These characters have parts in the show all the time and I don’t know anything about them. I would love to know more about them and we have 8 episodes left. Whelp, until next week.