#making each other laugh with dumb jokes

[frimoussette88]

"Other than a wolf or a dragon, if you yourself had an animal helper in real life, what species would each of you choose ? (Can be mythical)"

Kit & Emilia at Superhero Comic Con (x) - Favorite moments Part 4/?

[sunsetsandsunshine]

REQUEEEEEEEESTS LETS GOOOOOOOOO-wow I am nervous lols

Can I request mutant mayhem with Lee!Leo and Ler!April, please? (If ur wondering I am in fact that one anon that sent that long add-on idea I had spinning in my head after reading your MM Lee!Leo, Ler!Raph fic, hello! Glad you liked my ramblings ^^) no pressure if you don't feel like it tho!!

~ 𝙶𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚕! ~

💛💙 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 💛💙

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝙷𝙷𝙷𝙷 𝙽𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝚃𝙷��𝚁𝙴’𝚂 𝙽𝙾 𝙽𝙴𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴 𝙽𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙾𝚄𝚂, 𝙱𝚁𝙾 🥹🫶🏾💖!!! 𝚆𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 🕺🏾✨💕! 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚔, 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚎’𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 💝! 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚖 🫨💘! 𝙵𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎— 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚜 🤩💓˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟹,𝟷𝟹𝟾

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 👩🏾‍🦱💛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚞𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 (𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢). 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚘𝚙’𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙱𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢.

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝙻𝚎𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌— 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎. 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

T𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚐𝚜𝚜𝚜𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348  @itzsana-kiddingmenow 

@saturnzskyzz  @giggly-cloud  @savemeafruitjuice 

@rice-cake-teen10 @titters-and-tingles @veryblushyswitch

@tmntalways @pocky-dragon @jamiesgotchu @my-l0v3r-v3rse

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 (𝚎𝚠.) 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚓𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚜. 𝙸𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 😌🫶🏾!

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!!!˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

School is what you make of it.

It could be absolute hell wrapped in a box to make it seem entertaining, or it could be a box full of oppurtunities and dreams awaiting you…but end up being hell either way. Do with that information as you will. 

And for April right now? School was definetly becoming a living hell…more than it already was anyway. 

It was near the end of school. Like— the very last week of school. The students have cleaned their lockers, they were done with finals and basically everything was completed in order to leave. 

So it still raises the question as to why April was still obligated to be here. She had one more week left of this torture called school, but it was starting to feel like an eternity!

And her last period class wasn’t making it any better either. 

It was Math.

Fucking. Math. 

And if you knew anything about Math periods…they took a century to finish. Plus, it was always so boring because their teacher would never. stop. yapping. 

“I want to go home.” April grumbled quietly, resting her cheek on her palm at her desk as their teacher— Ms. Miller— explained bullshit she didn’t know nor care about. Leo snorted in amusement at the comment, turning his head slightly at his friend who was beside him.

“Oh? Are you not enjoying Ms. Miller’s wonderful insight?” The teen in blue asked teasingly. Although, it was abundantly clear he too was not enjoying their teacher’s well known yap-sesh. 

The older teen just sighed in response, slouching in her chair as she crossed her arms across her chest, “This class is going to be on my suicide note.” She muttered under her breath. Leonardo put his hand over his mouth at her grumbled comment, looking down on his desk as he was trying not to laugh. 

Ms. Miller, who was at the front of the room smacked the whiteboard sternly with her ruler, causing the whole class to stiffen in surprise and look at her. 

“She goin' get me…” Mikey mumbled under his breath, causing the entire class to try and hold in their giggles the best they could. 

The teacher sighed tiredly, rubbing her eyes before looking at the class, “Since it’s the end of the school year and I literally cannot wait to not see any of you for a good two to three months, let’s just do a Math activity for the remainder of class.”

“Awe!!! Your letting us play a game because you love us???” Mikey asked.

“No. I’m not giving you all a 'game' because I don’t feel like grading anything.” She responded. 

“Fair enough.” The turtle in orange mused as the teacher passed around sheet’s of paper with equations on it. “You can partner up with someone to complete all thirty questions. The first pair to answer all thirty questions and get them all right gets Dum-Dum lolipops.” She finished explaining as the kids gave knowing looks to each other, telepathically communicating with one another who would partner up with who. 

“…I feel like you’re trying to imply something with those lollipops, Ms. Miller…” Raph said as he raised a brow. The teacher let out a small laugh in response, sitting down at her desk as she went on her phone.

Okay…so perhaps this day wouldn’t turn out as bad as April initially thought. 

The girl in glasses gave her blue cladded mutant friend a knowing look, which he gladly reciprocated as she scooted closer to him and started to work on the problems together. 

“We are going to absolutely dominate every single fucking person in this classroom and win that candy.” The older teen said as she cracked her knuckles, taking out her pencil case and taking out a pencil. 

Which was the Ticonderoga No. 2 pencil of course. 

“…Are you sure?” The hazel eyed mutant asked as he looked over the problems, “I’m not that good in Geometry…”

“Pff— am I sure? Sure I’m sure! Your girl right here got an A in Geometry.” April smiled as she slung an arm over the other’s shoulders, “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Leo Lazilee. I’m going to absolutely carry our team to sugary sweet VICTORY!” 

The younger slightly blushed at the nickname, rolling his eyes fondly, “I told you to stop calling me that…” He mumbled out but the other could tell he did not mean it one bit. 

The girl in glasses grabbed her pencil, ready to start solving the problems before really and truly looking as to what was in front of her. 

“The fuck is this shit?” The girl questioned, looking at the paper as if it grew ten heads out of nowhere. Leo mentally facepalmed, looking at the sheet alongside his best friend as they both looked at it in confusion. 

“…Why does the Math problem have shapes…?” The leader in blue mumbled to his friend beside him. 

“…Okahay, we’re both officially stupid.” The girl in glasses chuckled out, putting the pencil on the table as she leaned back on the chair.

The hazel eyed teen rolled his eyes at the automatic acceptance of defeat from his teammate, “Your no help.” He huffed out, turning around in his seat to face the person behind him.

Which, if you’re wondering, was none other than his big beautiful brained little brother Donnie. 

Oh, and Raph was here too, I guess. 

“Psst, Don! PSST!!!” The leader in blue whispered to his brother although he was literally a centimeter away from him. The purple cladded turtle in question looked up from the worksheet to meet his older brother’s gaze, “Nardo, why are you whispering so loudly?” He questioned. 

“I need your answers for the worksheet thingie!” Leo said.

“Are you crazy?” The hoodie wearing turtle asked as he huffed out a laugh, “Me? Dona Tello? Give you my answers? HA! Sorry, dear brother of mine…you expect waaaay too much.” 

Raph was sitting next to Donnie as the two teammates went shoulder to shoulder and barricaded the worksheet with their arms so Leo couldn’t see the paper. At all. The eldest huffed, turning back around and slumping in his chair with his arms crossed. 

Well, since his brain and brawn brother’s did not want to help him and April through these dire times, perhaps his youngest brother would be of aid. 

Leonardo got up, walking a couple seats down to where Mikey and Mondo were. The two friends were just telling jokes to each other and doodling all over the back of the paper. The hazel eyed teen did nothave the patience and/or stamina to even ask the two if they knew it was a worksheet in the first place and not some coloring page.  

Besides, from what Leo heard, the two seemed to be having a meaningful convo about the Trump vs. Biden presidential debate, MLP, Helluva Boss, amusement parks and…grass. 

How do those topics all correlate in a conversation? Leonardo has absolutely no clue! 

But the two were making it work, so he wouldn’t question it. 

The eldest turtle went back to his seat, letting out a defeated sigh as April patted him on the shell comfortingly. “Seems like we’re going to have to do this the old fashioned way...” The leader in blue muttered out as he sat up straight,  looking over the problems again.

After a couple minutes of Leonardo just aimlessly staring at the paper, April got impaitent and just grabbed the worksheet, looking at the problems for a split second before jotting down random answers. 

“Uh…Prill? You know I never question your unorthodox way of doing things…but I am 100% questioning it right now.” The younger teen said as he peeked over to look at the questions— which April was halfway done with.

“Trust the process, Nerdo. I’ll have us swimming in candy in no time!” The girl grinned, going into her pencil case to sharpen her pencil. The blue cladded turtle took one more good look at the paper and examined it thouroughly. 

Look, Leo’s only been in school for about a year now, but he’s 99.9% positive Geometry answers should not be just question marks. 

As the chocolate brown eyed teen was ready to write down another answer to the worksheet, the other snatched the pencil away from her quickly, glaring at her playfully as she glared playfully back. 

“Oho, Leo~!” The girl sang in a sing-song voice, “I would be ever-so grateful if you could give me back my pencil. My Ticonderoga No. 2 pencil to be exact.” She exclaimed with emphasis and whimsy. 

“Soho yohou can wrihite quehestion marks ahall over the paper? Yeheah…noho...” The mutant remarked. 

“Juhust gihive me my pehencil!”

“Noho!” 

April almost automatically poked Leo in the side due to his statement, causing the turtle to shriek in surprise as he flinched slightly from the touch. The random noise that escaped his mouth got a couple of concerned looks from his other classmates but they soon deflected and went back to doing their own thing. 

The slightly taller teen clutched the pencil to his chest like it was the last piece of pizza on Earth and he was fighting for it with every single fiber in his body. He scooted his chair slightly away from his friend but she easily and gladly followed, raising a brow in amusement and delight. 

“Why are you so nervous all of a sudden~?” She asked innocently as the other avoided her gaze, looking to the side of him as he was trying not to literally grab his backpack and sprint all the way back to the lair in complete terror. 

“Nardo~! My pencil, please!” The other smiled sweetly as she extended her hand, awaiting her fellow teammate to give back what was rightfully her’s. “Ahand ihif Ihi dohohon’t…?” Leo meekly asked, letting out a soft and tiny squeal as the older pinched his side again. 

“You know what’s going to happen, you goof. I have no problem doing this in front of everyone.” April said as she now squeezed Leo’s sides with her fingers. The slightly taller teen snorted, slightly sliding down in the chair as he tried to avoid his best friend’s attacks. 

“S-Stahahap!!” The blue cladded turtle giggled, batting at April’s arms with his arms weakly. The girl chuckled at the adorable sight, booping Leo’s nose before squeezing his sides once more. “You don’t really want me to stop though, do you?” She mused as the younger stomped his legs on the floor, trying his absolute best to keep his reaction to a minimum.

“Your brother and April need to get a room, brah…” Mondo chuckled in amusement as him and Mikey watched the scene unfold. The youngest turtle sighed knowingly, leaning back on his chair, “Tell me about it…”

The leader in blue weakly thrashed in his seat, hugging his middles whilst still having the pencil in his right hand. “Aha— *snort* AhaHAPRIHIL!” He giggly said.

The girl just smirked in response, sneaking her hands to the other’s underarms and resulting him to let out loud giddy cackles and snorts. “Oho~? Snorting already?” She asked.

The mutant shook his head back and forth, covering his mouth with his hands to try and muffle his laugh. The glasses wielding teen scoffed lightly at the action, digging harder into the other’s underarms. “Ohhhh no you don’t, Leo Lazilee. I am not allowing you to hide your precious giggles from me! Drop your hands~!” 

“FAHAH— *snort* *snort* MAHAKE MEEHEE!!” 

“Have it your way.” The elder teen said casually, effortlessly holding the leader in blue’s arms up as her fingers scribbled all over his stomach and sides. 

Leonardo threw his head back, stomping his feet on the ground as he tried to squirm away from April. “Tickle tickle tickle~!” 

“PFFT— *snort* NAHAHA!! D-DOHON’T EHEHEVEN *snort* *snort* DOHON’T *snort* SAHAHAY THAHAT!!!” 

“Hm? Don’t say what, Lee-o~? Tickle~?” April teased as the mutant’s laughter raised an octave. “NAHA— *snort* NOHOHO STAHAP IHIT!” 

“How about…no? Tickletickletickletickletickletickle~!” The girl continued to tease as she watched her best friend turn into a giggly puddle of snorts and squeals. “Is someone too tickle tickle ticklish~? Does this…tickletickletickletickletickle~?” 

The hazel eyed teen snorted loudly, “PRIHIHILLIE!!! PLEHEHEASE STAHA— *snort* NONONOHOHO— *snort* *snort* NAHAHAH!!!” 

“No what~? Are you too ticklish for this~?”

“SHUHUT *snort* UHUHAHAP!!” 

The chocolate brown eyed girl stopped her attack altogether at the sudden and very rude comment, glaring teasingly at her friend as if to say: 'Your about to get it.'

Raphael shook his head in mock dissapointment, eating a bag of Doritos as he was watching the one sided tickle fight right in front of him “Saying 'shut up' to April is absolutley wild. And doing that literaly four months after Women’s History month?! For shame, brother. For. shame.” The tallest turtle said dramatically. 

“Anyways, try aiming for his lower stomach. It drives him batshit crazy.” The second oldest turtle casually said, grinning as he saw the eldest giving him the nastiest stink eye. 

The girl smiled in awaiting triumph, “Okay then. Thanks— wait a sec. Raph, where the hell did you get Doritos from?!”

“My…backpack?” The red cladded turtle said as if his answer should’ve been obvious. 

“Dude, this is literally our last period.” Donnie laughed, still solving the last couple of problems on the worksheet.

“So? Last time I checked, this was a free country. I’ll eat Doritos any time and at any class period. Period.” Raphael announced as he ate more of the Dorito chips from the bag. The girl in glasses just rolled her eyes fondly, keeping her friend’s wrists in a hold as the other hand wiggled slowly to his lower stomach.

“N-NAHAH— *snort* *snort* NOHOHOH!!!”

“Gihive me my pehehencil yohou buffoon!” 

“IHIHI’LL *snort* STAHAB *snort* YOHOHOU *snort *snort* WIHITH IHIHIHIT!!!”

“You wanna see how that’ll end~?” 

“N-NOHO! NONOHOHO WAHA— *snort* WAHAIT IM SORRY!!” Leo cried out, being too tired to writhe or pry so he was just stuck laughing his shell off. The slightly older teenager payed him no mind, raising his arms a bit higher as she scribbled her nails all over his plastron and lower plastron. 

But ladies and gentlemen? Nothing…absolutely nothing could have prepared anyone in that classroom for what unfolded. 

The leader in blue let out a loud, genuine scream before descending into screechy cackles. April soon bursted into loud laughter along with Leo, wondering just how insanely ticklish a ninja turtle could possibly be. 

“EEEEEHEHEHAHAH!!! PLEHA— *snort* *snort* *snort* STAHAHAP!!! IHI CAHAN’T TAHAKE IHI— *snort*!!” Leonardo squealed as his laughter went up an octave or two. April was honestly genuinely surprised no teacher from the classrooms came to check up on them to make sure no one was fatally dying. 

The teachers aren’t really payed enough to care that much but still!

“TAHAKE IHIT! TAHAHAHAKE *snort* *snort* *snort* IHIHIT! PRIHIHILLIE PLEHAHA— *snort* *snort* PLEHEASE!” As the blue cladded mutant’s laugh and gasps became more frantic, the slightly smaller teen stopped tickling him, grabbing the pencil from his hands as she pat his shoulder comfortingly.

“I just wanted my pencil back. You took my property and I used self defense.” April said teasingly, reaching for the paper and erasing her previous answers to start again. “Ihi’m *snort* gohoing to fihile aha *snort* *snort* complaint…”

“Oho yeah? To who?” 

“To Daharth Vahader soho he cahan use thehe force on your ahashy ahass…” Leo grumbled through his giggles, sitting up in his chair as his best friend continued to finish the last of the problems. 

As the chocolate eyed teen finished up with the remainder of the problems, her and Leo got up to give the worksheet to the teacher. “Here you go, Ms. Miller! All thirty problems 101% completed.” The girl grinned. 

Their teacher raised a brow, pulling up the answer key on her computer as she looked over the two’s work.

“That’s incorrect.” Ms. Miller said.

“Ms. Miller…exactly what’s incorrect?” Leonardo asked. 

“…All of it.” The teacher explained. But before she could give the two partners some insight on whatthey did wrong and how they could improve, the two were pushed aside by Donnie and Raph. 

“Eat shit, suckers.” Raphael snickered as he handed their teacher the paper (he had sanitized his hands prior due to him eating Doritos earlier. He wasn’t an animal). 

“I don’t get paid enough for this…” Ms. Miller sighed, looking over the brain and brawn’s worksheet as she compared it with the answer key, “Good job you two. Everything is correct.” She said, pulling out one of the drawers on her desk to take out a big jar just full of Dum-Dum lollipops. 

She handed the huge jar to Raph who gladly accepted it, sticking his tongue out at Leo and April teasingly before directing his attention back to their teacher. “Thanks, teach.” He smiled, going back to his desk. 

Donnie on the other hand, started crying from pure joy, dramatically wiping a tear, “Ms. Miller…? Can you get my fellow classmate’s attention? I need to say something important.” He mumbled out meekly. “Here we go…” The leader in blue grumbled as him and April went back to their seats in defeat.

"If you don't like your destiny, don't accept it. Instead, have the courage to change it the way you want it to be." The purple cladded turtle said whenthe class settled down.

“THAT’S A QUOTE FROM NARUTO, YOU COPYCAT!!!” A kid in the class shouted. 

“SHUT UP, BRANDON!!! NOBODY ASKED YOU!!!” Donnie basically screeched at his classmate, his voice rising and being similar to the noise of nails on a chalk board. The whole class cringed at the voice crack but no one dared mention it. 

“A-And I just wanted to thank my manager! A-And my parents and colleagues…” The purple cladded mutant listed. 

“…Donnie has a manager…?” Mondo whispered to Mikey who merely just shrugged, “I’m just as confused as you are, broski…”

“And like big-mouthed Brandon over there mentioned, Naruto says you need to change things the way you want it to be.” The hoodie wearing turtle said wisely.

“So you guys should change the wires in your brains because there was an answer key to the worksheet at the back. But none of you imbeciles noticed.” He grinned, his smile widening as his classmates jaw’s dropped.

“Anyways, thank you all and to all a good night.” The purple cladded teen announced as he bowed dramatically, going back to his seat as him and Raph fist bumped, immediately digging into the lollipop jar.  

“I hope they get diabetes.” Leonardo grumbled as the bell rang. The quintet (group of five people in case you’re wondering :3) packing their bookbags and leaving the classroom along with their classmates.

This day definitely didn’t turn out as bad as April initially thought. 

She still would’ve appreciated winning, though.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[hella1975]

yes im trying not to be so mean yes im working on my temper but under no section of my Healing Contract does it mention that these things must apply to my sister. in fact if you read the fine print it says im actively allowed to make her miserable. for my mental health

[jackietaylorsghost]

do u ever think about how joel and ellie are like parent/daughter YES but also they are best friends???

[straightuppotato-art]

Can we know more about Deja 👀

YES YOU CAN ANON 💕💕

Empath, Pollard undecided but I’m learning towards 7?

She's very proudly bi!!

Besties with Nick back in high school

Moved to Los Angeles when she graduated because she’s An Actress and she’s actually been somewhat successful!! She’s been in a few shows, mostly romances or dramas

She has an Akita named Security 💕 It’s so she can yell “SECURITY!!” And a big ol dog comes running lmao

If acting doesn’t work out, her fallback is to become a therapist! Her dad is a physical therapist and her mom’s a psychologist so she’s grown up in that world + is an empath

She’s shipped with Nico, who is my Sally-mancing button’s brother lol

Y'know how Nick takes care of everyone with food + bearing the brunt of Everything + doesn't want help because he thinks he doesn't deserve it? Yeah, Deja's the same but with jokes instead of food. She's a silly lil guy, she makes heehee's on social media lol

Umm 👉👈 Relationship stuff with Nick under the cut because um 👉👈 I’m insane ☺️

Their romance is so tropey omfg

You’ve got ye ol classic “besties who have big fat crushes on each other but don’t get together for whatever reason”

Their reasons were not wanting to ruin their friendship + differing plans + Nick dates around lol

So then they don’t see each other in person for several years, though they do keep in touch

AND THEN!! DEJA COMES BACK TO CHICAGO TO FILM A SHOW!!! AND GUESS WHO SHE RUNS INTO!!!!

This is post-mb btw so subject to change—but basically they start hanging out a ton!! There's lots of inside jokes and they still totally have big fat crushes on each other!! Both get teased by the Wiseman+Friends extended family!!

Do they get caught in the rain,,, do they almost kiss,,, does Deja pull away because she doesn't want to just be a fling,,, perhaps,,,

Does Nick tell Button that he really, really, really likes Deja and get tough loved into confessing,,, perhaps,,,

Anyways after they get together and Deja has to go back home, she tells Nick not to do a dramatic airport run. He does it anyways. (She loves it <33)

WAHH it's just super cheesy and stuff!!! Also Deja's soooo obnoxious about dating Nick online lmao!! Like this post is what she does all the time!! But they go to events and stuff and they're so dorky and cute <33333 wahhhhh I love them <3333

P.S. THEIR BABIES ARE NAMED CLEMENTINE AND GRAHAM THAT'S ALL THANKS!!!!!

[troonwolf]

I think some people perceive my username as misgendering myself and I find that really weird because one, it’s a joke. directed at me specifically, it’s my username, no one is forced to wear my username lol. I can’t “misgender myself”, I AM myself- what does that even mean?

second of all if a trans person tells you (even in a joking/reclaimed sort of manner) “I am okay with being called x and referred to as y”, they’re not misgendering themselves. they’ve literally just told you how to gender them. just because it would make you uncomfortable doesn’t mean it’s making them uncomfortable. it’s obviously not making me uncomfortable.

it’s also funny how people are like “pronouns don’t have gender” until a trans man reveals he’s comfortable with non-typical gendered language

[learn-and-accept]

.

[silkythewriter]

Vox and alastor with an undeserving to be in hell reader!

Warnings!:non!

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note!;I THINK TUMBLER ACTUALLY HATES ME (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)(｡•́︿•̀｡)it keeps not letting me edit my drafts, it’s happened like 3 times already this week alone!,…BUT ANYWAY I LOVE THIS IDEA I REALLY HOPE YOY ENJOY!!!!♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Summary!: alastor and Vox x reader WHOs I. Hell for a minor sin/crime

❤️Written by silkythewriter do not steal or repost any other platform please! <3❤️

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

“Each time I find myself

Flat on my face

I pick myself up and get back in the race!”

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

!📺✨Vox✨📺!

When you first admitted what you did that counted as a “sin” he was flabbergasted! He thought they must’ve made a mistake. All be it one that was in favor since he got to be damned with you. But still!

Out of every monster known to man kind one who’ve committed acts that are despicable. You, one who can barely hurt a damn fly get sent with them?

At first he thought you were genuinely just joking. And he actually laughed! Like audible chuckled before waiting for the actual reason, which never came, and he soon realized you were being serious!

He always questioned why you use to refuse to kill, or at least scare people into respect. But then you explained how you refused to be like the rest of the sinners.

He utterly dumb founded you made it this far without spilling a bit of blood, at least for survival!

He becomes more overprotective as if he wasn’t before, good luck with that!

Cause now he knows your rules, he knows you won’t budge. Nothing would get you to change your mind. So he made sure to keep eyes on you 24/7, you may be nice, but the other sinners in this damned place definitely aren’t. And he knows that from experience

Would neither confirm or deny he put a small tracker in an item you carry every where.

This man has enemy’s as you’ve seen, demons, overlords, rival company’s, it’s a headache an a half for him. Not that he hates protecting you and your values! No never!, but the nerve of the people who think they even have a chance to lay a hand on you.

Gives you the lastest phone from his series, and yes he will text you and blow up ur phone up if he can see you through cameras around the city.

Even if you put it on silent he wouldn’t put behind himself to over load it and just show up on your phone screen.

Sometimes he’s just so confused how you can be so nice, or at worst passive to those who are poking at you. He thinks your a saint, even if you aren’t, an maybe you have a short temper still the way you hold yourself form blowing up is astonishing!

Sometimes he jokes about how if you were to go to Charlie you would be redeemed in a day. And at night sometimes he thinks about it and it scares him to know there’s a possibility for you to go where he will probably never be able to follow you too

He loves you to the depths and the crooks of hell, and he’ll be damned again if he lets anyone hurt you. He sees you as a small soft light in the red cover world, and he will do anything before anyone can put out that light.

He makes sure to keep a good distance between you and Val, a BIG distance.

He’s always on the edge about people around you, how can’t he? He can’t trust all these “disgusting and repulsive” sinners in hell around you. The thought alone cringes him out and stresses him.

He knows to some degree he isn’t exactly better then them sin wise, but he makes sure to do his best for you while infornt of you, he cares about his image, and wouldn’t be afraid to scare someone into discipline. BUT he will tone it down, just for you ♥(⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)♥

He has you under wraps, from the public eye in this case. As much as he’s one to show off his earnings, he loves you a little to much and knows well people will use you as a advantage. He loves to show off but you something just for him behind close doors for now before he can work something out

NOW if the public were to already know, he show off by showing how untouchable you were, demons knew better to approach you seeing as how fast he is to get rid of those stupid enough to try something.

Overall he respects your morals of not wanting to stoop as low as other sinners. But it dose make him more protective of you, your like a rare gem. There’s only a handful of people like you, and even then the numbers decrees daily, so he dose his most to make sure you safe and happy <3

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

!🎙️✨Alastor✨🎙️!

Like Vix he humors it at first! Playing around with it before Laughing with his usual staticky voice as he stared at you with his unnerving smile. You guys quite literally stared at each other for a hot minute waiting for the other to say something.

It took you clearing your throat for him to realize you weren’t just trying to get a chuckle outta him.

And for the first time since you met him you caught a hint of confusion, making you explain that it was genuinely what you did.

He quite literally burst out laughing, you, someone who probably did something everyone did once is in this horrid place stuck with the horrid monsters ever! Just for that single act alone.

He will admit he found it a bit amusing how you refused to kill or lay a hand on anyone. Refusing to stoop to other people’s levels. Now that for him is pure gold of entreatment! He’s seen people like you, say the same exact thing then crumble when backed I to a Corner.

But for the first time, for all the decades he’s been damned here, he’s seen you stick to what you’ve stated. You were very much quite a spectacle!

Now finding new amusement, he decided to protect you, cause someone like you were sure to be a one time experience. Aside from loving you of course

Now with your name being accosted with him alone is a shield in if its self. Barely any one approached you, aside from those playing with their afterlives of course.

If you ever feel a looming shadow or presence it’s most likely one of his shadows. Like Vox he is gonna have his eyes on you almost always

Although he loves you he will play around to get a reaction out of you. All for the fun of it!, he knows you cringe when he talks about his cannibalism tendencies he just loves seeing your cute little face scrunch up!

Even though with all of that he is a gentleman and will make sure no one is to bother you.

He’s quite impressed you made it this far without getting killed, I mean of course you have him but if you arrived to hell and didn’t met him immediately he’d be quite impressed and surprised one you both do meet

He indulges himself in the horrible aspects of hell, with no remorse or shame what so ever either. So although he dose respect your wishes he won’t stop or calm down his tendencies.. （；へ：）but on the bright side he’ll make sure your far away or he goes off to other part of the city and do whatever he wishes. But your likely to see on the news either way… (￣▽￣💧

He dose enjoy the more civil and nice talks he has with you though! He finds it nice to take a break from all the crude talk on the street from other sinners and have a nice conversation!

Great listener let me tell you, he’ll happily sit there as you explain your day away! He honestly enjoys hearing you genuinely happy!, although his a chatter box himself but he enjoys listening to you more then anyone or anything else!

Watches you be nice to the most repulsive, and rude demon like it’s nothing. Even when disrespected you find a way to calm down the situation and nicely at that. Of course the demon doesn’t live long once their out of your sight, but still! He’s pleasantly surprised.

He finds it rather weird that your nice just for the sake of being nice but still it’s definitely a nice refresher from all the horrible people down in hell!

You catch his eye rather quickly with how you stick out from others (in a good way! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ) and his eyes end up on you, you mainly have all his attention almost always if he isn’t off doing something!, your his light just live Vox he’ll make sure you’ll shine bright as ever and won’t go out.

Not everyone can catch it but in some rare moments he’ll be seen just staring at you as you happily talk away to Charlie. And for the smallest second you can see his unnerving smile turn into a soft smirk, eyes only on you and his mind filled with only you. This happens on the regular, it’s just he’s quick to cover up so no one sees!

Overall he loves you, even with some differences between your views he’ll still do his best to make you comfortable. Aside from teasing you here and there! But other then that he’ll protect you, your one of kind. And he loves having things no one else can.

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

AHHHH HELLOOOOO OH GORSH I MADE IT JUST IN TIME THIS TOOK SO LOBG TO DO CAUSE I KEPT HAVING TO DELETE AND REWRITE ON A NEW DRAFT AUGHHH I HOPE TUMBLR FIXES THIS BUG, BUT ANYWAY TYSM FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN!!!\(^ヮ^)/’

[2tarbell]

i need some blue collar rafe pls. i love that man

can u pls do something with like sweetheart!reader !!

maybe like some slow soft passionate sex before he has to go to work at like 5am

and it’s jus so loving n aww ☺️

anyways i love u and ur mind mwah mwah

BLUECOLLAR!RAFE + SWEETHEART!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

it was no secret that rafe had a soft spot for you. the hardworking, calloused man melted into a puddle for those puppy eyes and that little pout.

he knew you hated when he left, but you’d hate it even more if he didn’t wake you up to say goodbye. what started as kisses on the way out turned into sliding his morning wood into your warmth — watching with sleep glazed eyes as the intrusion slowly woke you.

now he can’t even get out of bed without you pulling on his strong arm, dreamy voice begging for him to stay. you were half asleep, eyes still practically closed, but he couldn’t do anything other than indulge you.

it was how you found yourself being spilt in half at 3:45 am, an hour before he needed to be on the road ‘abandoning you’. rafe never laughed at that joke.

he was holding himself above you, forearms caging in your head. with your hair all disheveled and practically drooling — he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“fuck, how’re you so tight?” he heaved.

his gravelly words raised goosebumps across your pleasure-fuzzy, warm body. you were always so pliant this early, letting him stretch your legs over his muscular shoulders. the deeper press of his cock to your g-spot left you unable to speak coherently.

your hands clutched at his head, holding him close and brushing your soft lips against his with every precise thrust. rafe loved you like this — hips canting and so desperate for release, for him to stay.

“please, daddy— please—“

his hips stayed slapping against yours, the creamy ring of your arousal creating a sopping sound. his pubic bone kept hitting your clit perfectly and pulled whines from you. swollen lips letting out a hiccup when he thrusts in to the hilt.

rafe hummed, a low sound in acknowledgment of your state. he lifts his hand to your mouth, your lips parting against the intrusion of his thumb, taking it in to the knuckle.

“god, you’re takin’ me so well,” he mutters, his hips rolling against yours, “bein’ so good… so perfect for me.”

you let out a garbled moan, eyes drooping from sleepiness and the pleasure he was providing. he just knew — knew how to make you unravel and turn dumb.

sucking on his thumb eagerly as you could manage, languid from sleep and the kiss of his mushroom head against your cervix. with a pop he pulled the digit from your mouth, sliding between your bodies and rolling it over your puffy clit. the gathered spit mixed with the sparkling sheen of your arousal, making the flicks of his thumb smooth and effortless.

“oh my god—!”

you choked out, head diving back into the pillow behind you as his slow, deep thrusts make that coil in your tummy feel almost too tight. the feeling all consuming and unfamiliar.

rafe takes the advantage to sit up on his knees, wrapping a large hand around your throat — tight enough to let you know he’s there, he’s got you.

“mmh, i know, shhh — oh, shit — look at that…”

his hand slides around to the back of your neck, tilting your head down to see what he sees. you watch dumbly as you squirt all over him, coating his abs and dick with your cum.

it’s like you’re out of your body, watching yourself come undone while your hearing goes fuzzy with the intensity of your orgasm.

suddenly flooded with warmth as his pants get more whiny, indicating his own imminent release. he leans down, pressing his forehead tightly to yours and giving a few more thrusts for good measure — squelch sounds punctuating each inward movement.

he shudders against you, feeling tingly from the overstimulation of your pussy still clenching around him. he huffs, trying to catch his breath and shifts your leg off shoulder. you whine lowly at the loss of his weight on you, eyes fluttering and struggling to focus on him.

with a ‘okay, shh, kid’, he reaches out, wrapping his arms tight around your waist, leaning down on you again.

your small voice, already halfway back to dreamland, reached his ears in a contented sigh, “looove you, daddy…”

“mmh, i love you, my messy girl,” his teasing voice made a lazy smile spread across your face, wrapping your limbs all around him. trying to keep him as close as possible.

kisses are peppered along your neck, trailing to your lips with a playful smack. your giggles filled the space, light and airy in the quiet of your shared bedroom.

rafe smirked and pressed his hips forward into yours, swallowing the heaving sound you let out as his cock rubs against your pulsing walls. he spoke lowly against your mouth, pushing in and out — skin sticking to yours.

“how ‘bout… you squirt f’me again and i’ll think ‘bout callin’ out...”

[suguann]

He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem—a distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.

It starts with you smiling too brightly as he walks in one morning, all teeth and that little twinkle in your eye that feels like trouble when you scan his membership card.

“Good morning, Mr. Riley.” 

“It’s just Simon,” he tells you as he takes his card off the counter. 

The following day, it’s the same, except Johnny is there to make it worse.

He nudges Simon with his elbow. “She’s kinda pretty, huh?”

“Say it any louder, and she’ll hear you, mate,” he grumbles.

Simon’s not blind; of course, he knows you’re pretty, but he doesn’t have time to commit to anything outside of work—even if you smile at him like you’re happy to see him and how he’ll think about it later: on missions, at his desk, during morning runs. His head is nothing short of woven webs with thoughts of you stuck in the middle.

Honestly, it’s that you—

(You try to make small talk with him every morning, and Simon is starting to think it’s just for him because on the days he doesn’t come alone, you merely scan his card and go back to reading the open paperback book on the desk.)

It’s weird because it’s almost like you—

(He bumps into you at the supermarket and makes a dumb joke about carrots that makes you laugh. It makes him a little tongue-tied and awkward afterward because he realizes he hasn’t talked to a woman outside of only wanting a quick fuck in a really long time, but more importantly, he wants to hear it again. 

Instead, he tosses potatoes in his cart and walks away.)

He tells himself it means nothing, or not how Simon wants it to.

You’re just…he’s not even sure; acquaintances? Maybe more than that, but less than friends. Somewhere in that odd in-between phase where he only knows bits and pieces but not the whole picture.

Sometimes, he wishes—

(Simon doesn’t know what he’s doing the first time he invites you to meet the guys from work on a night out. He’s dated around a few times and had his fair share of hook-ups, but this isn’t like that. His palms are sweaty, more than usual, and no amount of wiping them on the thighs of his jeans keeps them dry.

Then you walk into the bar in a dress that’s probably too light for early spring in London—even though he stares appreciatively at the long expanse of your legs as you walk up to the table—and he wishes he wasn’t introducing you as his friend.)

But you—

(A new development happens after you slip him your phone number on one of the gym’s business cards—it’s weird that we don’t have each other’s numbers, so message me sometime or whatever—and he messages you ‘hey’ right before he leaves for a mission a few days later. 

It slowly shifts and changes over time.

You start sending him texts in the morning. Never an actual good morning text, but of the dogs you take on walks, the sunrise, the new flower box in your window. Somehow, it’s better.)

You really are—

(His house feels too hot, and he’s distracted from the movie by how close you are, how your leg drapes over his under the blanket, fingers fisting into his sweater at his stomach that clenches. An ache that grows, throbbing, spreading from his abdomen to his groin.

It feels monumental—something more than the gentle touch to the elbow to squeeze by each other in his entryway earlier or giving you his jacket that night at the bar—a tilt of the axis that makes the messy pieces fall neatly into place. 

He must be staring because you glance up at him, smiling, and the sound from the TV turns into white noise in the background.

“Can I…would you—fucking hell,” Simon runs a hand through his hair. “Can I kiss you?”

When your lips press against his, and his hands are pulling you onto his lap, where you settle hotly against his dick tenting in his jeans, he wonders why neither of you has done this before. Just kissing—him licking the seam of your mouth, and you panting his name.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you mumble, lips brushing his.

“Me too,” and he fists his hand into the hair at your nape and pulls you back to his mouth.)

“I knew you’d be trouble,” he tells you one day, glaring at the bloke further down the bar who tried making a swipe at your ass before Simon showed up, towering over his shoulder with your fruity cocktail in hand.

“Oh, yeah?” you giggle, leaning into his side.

“Yeah,” the corners of his mouth quirk, though he hides it when he presses a kiss against your temple. “A real pain in my ass, love.”

“But yours.”

This time, he does smile. “Yes, but mine.”

Masterlist

[luna-azzurra]

Stages Of an Arranged Marriage Writing Tips

The whole thing starts with that awkward moment, the first time they meet. It's not like some romantic movie scene or anything. More like two strangers, thrown together by fate (or their families), fumbling around, unsure of how they’re supposed to act. There’s this weird tension, like they’re both trying to figure out if this is really happening. Do they shake hands? Say something witty? Or just stare at their shoes and hope someone else fills the silence?

And speaking of silence, there’s a lot of it. Those early conversations are painfully stiff, with long pauses where they’re both scrambling for something, anything, to say. But eventually, one of them cracks a joke or finds something they both like, music, movies, some random topic. And it’s like a tiny window opens. Just a little, but enough to let some air in, enough to feel like they might not be total strangers forever.

Then comes the learning phase. They start picking up on each other's habits, the way they stir their coffee, or the fact that they always forget their keys. At first, it's just background noise, but slowly it becomes something familiar. They realize they're not tiptoeing around each other as much anymore. They might not be best friends, but there's a rhythm starting to form, like they're both settling into this new, weird reality.

Of course, it’s not all smooth sailing. There are moments when everything feels like too much. The weight of being tied to someone they didn’t choose starts pressing down, and they’re both frustrated. Sometimes with each other, sometimes just with the whole situation. There’s tension, maybe even a few arguments, and it feels like they’re stuck in this impossible bind.

And then there’s that one conversation. The one where they’re both too tired to keep the walls up. Maybe it happens late at night, or when they’re caught off guard, but suddenly, they’re talking about real things. Fears, hopes, the stuff that actually matters. After that, they look at each other differently.

What’s even weirder is when they catch themselves caring, like, genuinely caring. They didn’t expect it, didn’t want it at first, but now it’s there. And it's not just that, it’s this slow, almost sneaky attraction that creeps up on them. They start noticing little things, like the way the other smiles, or how they laugh at their dumb jokes, and it makes them feel...something.

Before they know it, the tension they felt at the start melts into something else entirely. What began as awkwardness and uncertainty turns into understanding.

[lovebugism]

how abt eddie x shy reader , she meet’s wayne accidentally & she brings like sm food for the week he LOVES HER but shes so shy

a request deep from the archives that i haven't stopped thinking about since i got it hahah please enjoy xoxo — you spend a fluffy morning in with the munsons (established relationship, fluff, 1.2k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie rouses from his sleep like a king on a sunken-in couch. 

Saturday morning cartoons play on the TV just ahead of him, mostly on mute ‘cause you’ve got the radio going in the kitchen. Something soft and soulful and too low for him to hear. The trailer swells with the scent of something sweet, of syrup and cooked sugar. 

Speaking of sweet…

His flushed cheek rubs against the arm of the couch when he looks up to find you. He can see you just over the top of the counter, like a scene from a movie. You’ve got a bowl of something wedged in your elbow, and you stir at it with your free hand — half-distracted because your nose is stuck in an open recipe book on the counter. Your glasses fall slowly down your nose. You try to push them up again with your shoulder, but they slip back down a second later.

Your gentle humming fills his ears, and Eddie figures this is what heaven must be like. There’s no greater nirvana than this.

He rises and stretches and walks the very short distance to the kitchen. Still warm with sleep, he wraps himself around you, chest flush to the expanse of your back. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts, muffled into your sweater.

“Cookin’,” you answer in the same tone, only softer and a little more sheepish.

Eddie breathes hard once. You think you feel him smiling. “Dumb question, huh?”

“Did you sleep good?” 

“Too good to be passed out on the couch for an hour.” He lifts his head to prop his chin on your shoulder. It bobs against you with every word. “You were supposed to be sleeping with me, by the way.”

“I tried. But then I wanted to make you breakfast.”

“Correction. You wanted to make Wayne breakfast.”

Your giggling is as soft and sweet as the cinnamon concoction you’re stirring at. “Well, I don’t want either of you to starve, actually. So sorry for making sure the Munson’s are taken care of.”

Eddie’s chest swells. His heart starts to warm so much he’s scared it might burst. He tucks his face back into your neck and holds you tighter. “Don’t apologize, sweet thing. ‘M just being stupid.”

“That nickname’s not gonna stick, Eds,” you tease, tilting your head until your cheek meets his wild hair. “You can stop trying now.”

He scoffs and pulls back from you. His eyes, still softly swollen with sleep, are wide and glittering. “Why not?” he shouts, a bit too loudly to be so close to your ear. “You’re sweet and you’re my thing— it’s literally the perfect nickname.”

“You’re thing?” you echo with a distant laugh. “I’m not a toy, Eds.”

“Not all the time—” His boyish giggling is followed by a scoffed breath when you elbow him with your free arm. You shove him away halfheartedly, pushing him out of the tiny kitchen. “What?!” he exclaims, laughing loudly.

“Get out of the kitchen!”

“What’d I do?”

“My french toast tastes good ‘cause it’s made with love, and you’re tainting it.”

“How? I love you more than anything in the whole wide world.” He gravitates back to you despite your efforts to keep him away. He plants a smacking kiss to your lips and grins wide when he pulls away. “See? Now it’ll taste extra sweet.”

You’re glaring at him one moment, then happily accepting another one of his kisses the next.

The front door opens, squealing in protest and rushing in the cool morning air. It’s unsurprisingly Wayne. His work boots stomp heavy on the carpet. He holds a greased hand over his forehead. “My eyes are still closed,” he jokes, voice deep and gravelly. “You two have about three seconds to stop touchin’ each other.”

Eddie scoffs but steps back from you anyway. “That was one time!” he argues boyishly. “And we weren’t even doing anything!”

Wayne laughs a sharp breath, just like Eddie had, but a little bit gruffer. He forgoes the petty banter and shoots you a smile — tightlipped, barely-there, and weighed down by the exhaustion of the graveyard shift. “How ya doin’, sweetpea?”

“Good,” you answer, shrinking into your shyness. “I’m makin’ french toast.”

“That’s my favorite,” the older man grins. “How’d you know?”

“‘Cause it’s my favorite,” Eddie insists.

“It’ll be done soon,” you tell him, all quiet in your sheepishness. “If you wanna get changed or whatever.”

Wayne heads to the hallway, stopping short in the kitchen to muss at Eddie’s curls and pat you gently on the shoulder. “Thank ya, sweetpea,” he murmurs, voice dripping with fatigue. His accent always gets real heavy when he’s tired.

“You’re welcome…”

Eddie doesn’t say anything until he hears the bathroom door shut. “So Wayne can call you sweetpea, but I can call you sweet thing?” he asks, features swirled with offense.

“It’s different!”

The boy follows you to the cabinets like a lost puppy. Then, when you have trouble reaching the vanilla extract on the top shelf, he leans over you to grab it. “No, you just have favorites,” he argues, passing you the small container.

“That’s not true!”

“Whatever,” he grumbles, still pouting as he leans against the counter beside you. He mourns the lack of your attention when you give it all to the french toast mixture on the counter. You spoon in the vanilla with a practiced touch. “…Are you staying over again tonight?” he mutters, shier than you are now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “If it’s okay with Wayne, then—”

“Wayne! Sweet thing’s staying the night— is that okay?” Eddie shouts before you can blink. The trailer rings with the volume of his voice.

“Eddie,” you scold quietly.

The bathroom door squeaks open. A grunt sounds from the hallway, a nonverbal answer you’re not totally sure what to make of. The man returns in the pajamas he pulled from the hall closet — a thin t-shirt older than Eddie is and a pair of plaid pants.

“I’ll make dinner before your shift tonight,” you tell him with a soft grin that neither of the Munsons can say no to. “I promise.”

Wayne makes another scoffing sound. A laugh, maybe. A smile hints at the corner of his bearded mouth as he pours himself a coffee across the counter — in the painted mug Eddie made him for Father’s Day, several years ago now. 

“Well— In that case, I’m afraid I have to insist on you stayin’, sweet pea.”

“Thanks, Mr. Munson.”

“Call me Wayne,” he tells you, playfully chiding in a parental sort of way. He gives you a pointed look over the cup he sips from and heads back towards the living room. “You’re feedin’ us too good to be so polite all the time.”

You smile to yourself and laugh a quiet, slightly forced laugh.

The sofa squeaks when Wayne settles onto it, sprawling out the same way Eddie had before. Too tired to reach for the remote on the coffee table, he watches He-Man re-runs with heavy eyelids.

“Alright, sweet thing— what do you need me to do?” Eddie asks with a clap of his hands, making a very pointed effort not to drop the nickname. You get all flustered when he calls you that — smiling softly to yourself and then ducking your gaze to hide it from him. You’ll have to pry the name from his cold, dead hands.

You turn to peer at him from beneath your lashes. “You dip the bread, and I’ll fry ‘em?”

“Sounds like a plan, sweet thing.”

“Eddie.”

[cxffecoupx]

what 2 am with them looks like

seventeen × gn reader comfort, healing (kinda, idk) warnings: mentions of making love, food wc: 1.3k author's notes: this was a random thought, and has been in my drafts for so long, so i decided i had to complete it. writing this gave me a peace i didn't know existed, so i love this work very much. i hope you guys love it too <3

➼ choi seungcheol

in bed. he's probably fucking you into the next week, making you cum at least 5 times before he kisses you gently and washes you up and prepares to sleep. if not this, then you're probably on your side of the bed. the other side of the bed remains empty, because your cuddly clingy boyfriend is wrapped around you, strong arms trapping your movements and legs tangled together.

➼ yoon jeonghan

dumb conversations. lying in bed, your head resting on his arm, your arm wrapped around his torso that shakes with the laughter. it's probably one of your lame jokes that only he finds funny, or one of his hilarious stories about seungkwan and chan, but it's got you both clutching your stomachs after a while. he pulls you close with his arm that's under your head and presses a light kiss to your forehead before finding another interesting topic. when do you sleep that night, that's a question you both have no answer for.

➼ hong jisoo

deep conversations. you're both sitting in your bedroom, hugging pillows as you slip into deep conversations about the universe and your future. you aren't sure how you got here, you were in your bed to sleep one moment and in the next, you're both sitting as you talk about your wedding and your house and the stars and the moon and his mom and his job; the conversation flows easily into the next topic. he only stops when he sees you suppress a yawn for the 3rd time before kissing you and suggesting you both go to sleep.

➼ moon junhui

watching cat videos. it all started a few hours ago, with you and jun on either side of the bed, scrolling through phones. you roll over to him, perfectly landing your head on his chest as you show him your screen. "look junie," you said as you shoved the phone into his face. he chuckles before holding your hand and focusing on the video of an orange cat tripping over it's own feet. he laughs watching it, and it ends up in you lying on his chest as you both watched every single cat video available on the earth. your laughs filled the room and tears filled your eyes, but it felt so good, spending time doing silly things like this.

➼ kwon soonyoung

passive watching soap operas. its the time of calm and quiet after the rush of the day, so when you turn on the tv after dinner, you stay like that until late hours. except the focus has moved from the drama on the tv to drama from work. from sitting at the ends of the couch, you end up tangled somehow - his head resting on your lap or him sitting on the floor, hands held with yours. the tv drones on at a low volume, but by then you've both shared all the tea from your work and are giggling over the littlest of things. in the morning, you're both probably on the floor, one of the cushions as a pillow and keeping warm by hugging each other.

➼ jeon wonwoo

playing games. after much practice and pain, you'd finally gotten better at the games wonwoo often played. most nights you'd be a team going against your other friends, but sometimes you prefer to play against him. and when that happens, it ends in either of the two ways: you're winning and start shaking your hips, or he's winning and decides to deliberately lose to help you win. either way, he wants to see your happy lil dance.

➼ lee jihoon

in his studio. jihoon's seated in his studio, working on a new track. when you arrive, he immediately pulls you to him, making you sit on his lap as he hands you his headphones. you look at him, confused, but wear them anyway and listen as he plays the track he was just working on. as you fall deeper into the melody of the song, he grips your hips in anticipation. it was a song to you, from him, containing the most heartfelt emotions he'd felt for you, but couldn't communicate properly. so he decided to put them into a song, a language he speaks so well and one that you understand.

➼ lee seokmin

having breakfast cereal. you'd gone through great lengths to find and buy the brand of cereal you both highly enjoyed. so now that you have it, why wait for the morning? when he wakes you up in the middle of the night, anxious and groggy about your reaction, he'd worried you'd judge him. but maybe it's the sleepiness hanging in his mind that he forgot you both basically share the same braincell. so the next minute you're stumbling into the kitchen, looking for bowls and cartons and giggling over spilling milk and noisy spoons. by the time you're done, your stomach's filled with food and heart's filled with love.

➼ kim mingyu

moments of soft intimacy. the evening goes by peacefully: you both come home, tired and exhausted; have a silent dinner mingyu lovingly prepared and talk about work; after some leftover work you both head to bed. but slowly, the stroke on the cheek becomes kissing, drawing shapes on your back as you kiss and nip at the base of his neck. mingyu's vulnerable now, only with you, but neither of you are in a rush to haste. his hands cup over your ass and thighs; your hands are braided in his hair. his palms knead the flesh of your breasts; your fingers gently brush across his chest and abs. whether or not you make love comes later, but you sleep peacefully in each other's embrace.

➼ xu minghao

sky-watching. when you poke him awake, he's definitely concerned, but the first thought that pops to his head when you say you cant sleep is to go sit in the balcony. so now, at 2 am, you're in the balcony, a cup of warm tea in your hands and xu minghao at your side. its silent, but its a comfortable silence that wraps around you like a blanket, and warmed up by the tea he specially made for you. and although for others, the silence might seem awkward, minghao knows that this is exactly what you need to escape from the thoughts racing around in your mind.

➼ boo seungkwan

late night walks. seungkwan's energy peaks after he comes home and sees you, so walks to tire you both out becomes a staple in the routine. youre walking the streets in matching hoodies (that's because you take one of his) and even in the cold, he makes it a habit to hold your hand in his. you wander through new streets every night, discovering new neighbourhoods, having a quick snack from the convenience store, and usually stumble over a park or play area. you can feel seungkwan's eyes light up and the next thing you know, youre on the swings, side-by-side. with the little squeeze of your hand, he lets you know he's ready to go back.

➼ chwe hansol

watching a movie. to hansol, any logical being would be asleep at this hour. (un)fortunately for him, you weren't as logical as he thought. but maybe he enjoys it because why else would he allow you to keep him awake at this ungodly hour, watching 'Tangled' for the twentieth time now? all frowns erase the moment he sees pascal on the screen, and a smile places itself. he becomes so engrossed in the movie he doesn't even notice that you'd fallen asleep about halfway through the movie. when he does notice tho, he silently closes the laptop and places it away, before slipping back into the bed to get his precious sleep.

➼ lee chan

listening to him talk. chan loves to talk, and you love to listen to him talk. while mostly by this time you're both dead asleep, sometimes you end up in the balcony, the wind playfully ruffling his hair as he goes on and on about something he's so so passionate about. it could be the most trivial things, but the way his eyes go wide as he's expressing his emotions and the way they catch the moonlight in them like little stars. you're gonna be pretty tired the next morning, but when chan's with you, you couldn't care less.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: anger issues, abuse, angst

gn reader

Thinking about boyfriends with anger issues…

How it’s okay in the beginning because your relationship is still fresh, and you’re both trying your best to be perfect for each other. How it’s enough for you to tell him he’s being silly with a sweet kiss to his grumpy cheek when he’s acting grumpy and insisting on having some type of fight with you over something unimportant. It’s enough to defuse him at that point—your unnerving smile and kind eyes, how you’re able to touch him even when he feels nuclear. The knots untangle within his head, and he calms down. He doesn’t apologize, but he gets sheepish and plays dumb until he’s cracking you up with some dumb joke—so you forgive him anyway.

The fights get worse over time, but so do the good times. He’s so perfect when he’s good, you forget about the bad. And you’re still able to disengage, at least most of the time. You can leave or ignore and dismiss—you can even agree to be wrong sometimes, even when you’re not. It doesn’t really matter. Those arguments are never about who’s right anyway—it’s just about fighting to see who can outlast the other. You swear, sometimes it feels like you’re the accused on the stand in a courtroom, but the judge has vacated, and it’s just you against the lawyer hurling pointed question after question at you.

Oh, but then he brings flowers, makes you smile and laugh, does something romantic, and tells you sweet nothings that make you blush. It feels right when you move in together. You love him. And you know he loves you. He still doesn’t ever apologize for his behavior—at least not with words—but he tries making up for it otherwise. After particularly nasty fights, when you go to sleep without him and without sharing another word, he’s on his best and brightest behavior the day after—makes you breakfast, drives you to work, offers to pick you up, suggests you do something fun later.

It's soothing that he knows he’s in the wrong. It makes it easier to forgive him. Makes you believe he’ll change.

Only he doesn’t.

The bathroom becomes your escape, a space you can retreat to when you’re on the brink. You don’t want to cry in front of him—he can get so mean sometimes, and the tears just egg him on like it’s some game he’s winning. It doesn’t really dawn on you that you’re hiding from him. If you admit that to yourself, nothing would make sense anymore. If you admit that to yourself, you wouldn’t be able to defend staying with him. And so you can’t. You suppress it. You’re not hiding from him—if he were to come knock on the door to let him in, you’d let him in. So you’re not hiding from him. No, you’re just in there for a quick breath of your own and to give him a little space.

But though you deny it, he feels you slipping away—and it only serves to make him more combatant. Raised voices turn into roaring—you fear the neighbors might complain. Nothing works anymore. If you walk away, he follows angrier than before. If you agree to disagree, he’ll only use it against you. If you cry, he laughs.

The time you get as ugly as he gets and start fighting back with your own insults is when he puts his fist through the wall right next to you.

The house shakes for a moment, then stands still. All is silent. Neither of you moves. You’re as stiff as a mannequin, and your eyes have never been wider—and yet you don’t look at him. Your gaze is fixed at nothing in particular as if unable to look anywhere else. You have a hand against his chest—it shakes. He feels it, and it’s a gross feeling—worse than the pain in his hand.

And he knows. He knows he’s ruined it. He knows it’s the exact moment he’s lost you.

No, actually. He probably lost you a while back…

He pulls his fist out of the drywall—the thin plate follows him before he drags it out with force. Dust and fibers stick to his skin in blotches where the blood coats his hand, seeping from the splits on his knuckles. It stings, but it isn’t the worst. No, his chest feels worse.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely through the strain in his tightening throat. “I’m sorry.” He can never repeat it enough for it to be enough. Fuck, what’s he done? What can he do? There’s a gaping hole in the wall he has you pressed up against, and it’s about to swallow him up.

“You’re bleeding,” comes your voice—as from the break of light in a stormy sky that reminds him it’s still day. “We need to disinfect it.”

He doesn’t dare protest, even as it confuses him how trivial you are about it. He just trails after you as you take him to the bathroom and clean him up. Holding his damaged hand in both of yours while you guide it under the tap, rinsing off the debris and blood, letting it all go down the drain. He didn’t even know you had a first aid kit, but you seem well-versed for some reason—how you dab the cuts with alcohol-soaked cotton, then tape shut the deeper slits before wrapping it all in a strip of bandage.

You take him to the bedroom, but neither of you speaks. He’s afraid to. And yet, both of you say goodnight while lying on opposite sides of the bed. He doesn’t know what feeling it is that simmers within his chest, but it makes it the worst night of his life.

And still, he must have slept soundly.

You’re gone in the morning—you’re essential things with you.

It’s strange, but he isn’t even angry. No… You left a note for him, but he can’t read it—not through the swelling of his eyes as they burn with salt and water and regrets that know no end.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks, Enji, Shinso ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Megumi, Toji ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Sakusa, Ukai ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin ♡ AOT – Eren, Levi ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[maxlarens]

Hi ! As a pescatarian girly and as someone who has recently started to like Lando, I kept thinking about him with pescatarian!reader, because you know opposites attracts and also it made me think of the olive theory from 'How I met your mother', can be fic or smau

(also I'm the anon who requested the Charles fic and I was wondering if you gave names or emojis to your anons 🤔)

ahhh hi😇😇 thank u sm for sending another ask in. verrryy into this! ive never watched himym but i HAVE heard of the olive theory and genuinely think it can be so true. i also think like sharing food/giving certain parts of ur meal to ur partner is so sweet so i loved this a lot🥺🥺

also, tbh i have never had a consistent enough anon to name them/give them an emoji so i would loveee LOVE to do that🙏🏻 pls let me know what i should call u❤️ (and if anyone wants to be a regular/semi-regular anon and give themselves an emoji/name pls do!!!) ANYWAY alright i hope u enjoy— it’s a just a short ficlet 😌💖

LN: quid pro quo

pairing(s): lando norris x reader [read on ao3]

word count: 1.2k

“Eugh,” Lando says, feigning a gag as he looks at the plate of food set in front of you, “That’s disgusting. I don’t understand how you can put that in your mouth.”

Slowly, you raise an eyebrow at him, looking between your plate and Lando’s screwed-up expression; you point at your food, “Salmon? You think salmon is disgusting? Are you joking right now?”

He shakes his head fervently, a grimace still stuck on his face, “It’s gross.”

A laugh, loud and guffawing erupts from your mouth as you realise he’s being entirely serious. He’s fixated on your meal, frowning as if the fish has severely insulted him in some way. Quickly, you clap your hand over your mouth, concerned you’ll offend him if you keep laughing like that. This is one of a handful of dates you’ve been on together— clearly the first you’ve ordered seafood on— and you’re still trying to make a good impression on Lando.

“Wait,” you collect yourself, breathing deeply so you don’t fall into a fit of giggles again, “You’re not allergic are you?”

“No,” he shrugs, “I just hate fish. You’ve never heard that?”

You snort a little indelicately, already going back to eating your salmon, “‘You’ve never heard that?’,” you tease, “Do you think I stalk you on the internet, Norris?”

He grins that small sheepish grin you like so much as a light blush blooms on his cheeks. You’re very fond of him really. He’s cute in a scrappy kind of way; he’s funny and charming, a little bit dumb sometimes; and he’s into you, which is always a bonus. You’re not together— not quite— just seeing each other when you both have time, but it’s been going very nicely if you do say so yourself.

You like him.

He likes you.

Lando rolls his eyes, and purses his lips in an attempt not to let you see the smile that he’s trying to hide, “Don’t you? Stalk me on the internet?”

“Never,” you answer resolutely, thinking blatantly of that night after you’d first met him when you fell down a rabbit hole, spending a good hour watching thirst traps of him on Instagram before coming to your senses, “Not once.”

He hums, unconvinced, “Alright.”

Alright. You make a face, almost stick your tongue out at him but think better of it at the last second. He laughs— giggles— at you. You look away from him, down at your plate, trying to hide the smile that spreads and spreads behind your hair. God, you like him. You’re trying not to let it get away from you. You get the impression that he’s not huge on relationships, and you’re trying hard to be casual about him. It’s difficult— mostly because everything feels so easy when you’re together.

“So,” you start as you push a forkful of salmon and leafy greens around your plate, “Hate to break it to you, but I’m a pescetarian.”

“Um,” Lando asks around a mouthful of half-chewed food, “What’s that mean?”

You stifle a laugh, “Like a vegetarian, but I eat seafood.”

He swallows and makes another face, similar to the earlier one. You can see this is hard for him to process, he clearly dislikes seafood to a degree that you hadn’t quite understood until now. It’s funny. It’s another thing to add to the growing list of reasons you fancy Lando Norris. Though you would think that as a pescetarian you’d want him to like fish, but you suppose by not eating them he’s just saving all the sea animals that you’re not— quid pro quo.

“What about, like,” he waves his fork around, evidently still wondering why you’d eat seafood voluntarily, “just being a vegetarian?”

You shrug, “Vegetables are boring.”

“Right. Better than eating fish though.”

“I like fish.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t get it… It’s— they’re slimy and they smell and they’ve got fucking beady little eyes. It’s not natural.”

“Okay,” you laugh brightly at his despondent expression, “I do need to eat them, unfortunately. Otherwise, I’d probably die of malnutrition, or I dunno, scurvy.”

He groans, hanging his head so that all you can see of his face is that mop of brown curls. You think of your second date when you’d kissed him for the first time in your stairwell and how you’d threaded a hand into it— and they were soft and not heavy with product the way that you hate. The way he’d smelt like expensive cologne and tasted both smokey and sugary at the same time, just like the whiskey and cokes he’d been having at the bar. There’s a soft smile playing at your lips when he finally looks up.

“Does it bother you?” you ask, “That I eat fish.”

He shrugs, shakes his head in a non-committal way that could be either answer and does that little grin again. The one that means he’s going to say something that you’ll find either unbearably cute or embarrassingly funny.

“Yes,” he says, grin not subsiding, “How am I supposed to kiss you when you’ve got fish breath.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and a shocked laugh bubbles from your mouth, you try to ignore the stirring feeling in your gut at the words how am I supposed to kiss you in favour of responding to his lack of tact Try, being the keyword there. It somersaults in your head, how am I supposed to kiss you he said, like he was thinking of doing it again. Which, okay, of course, he’s thinking of doing it again. You understand what this is— but there was an unmistakable fondness there that you just can't shake.

Anyway, you push thoughts of kissing him aside, he’d still accused you of having fish breath, “Wow,” you say dryly, with no malice at all as much as you try to feign it, “You say that to all the girls?”

He blushes, his tan cheeks turning a very pleasant red as he properly realises what he’d said, “Shit. No— oh my god— I’m sorry. I just meant—”

You wave him off, laughing, “I know what you meant. You’re good, Lando.”

“Phew,” he lets out a breath of relief, his nervous laughter punctuating the air between you, without meaning to he says, “God, I thought I’d just fucked it.”

You furrow your brows and frown, confused, “No. You couldn’t.”

You watch him scrub a hand over his face, embarrassed, before it falls away and he gives you a sheepish little grin that says he’s happy to hear that. Toothy, eyes squinted and carving dimples into his cheeks. Your face feels warm and you smile back, biting your bottom lip on the smile so it doesn’t grow and grow to cover your whole face.

Later, after you’ve finished lunch and spent too much time talking over a too-sticky table in your favourite pub, Lando kisses you up against a tree in the park by your apartment. You put your hand in his soft curls and you smell cologne and taste what he’s been drinking as he presses his tongue into yours. The coarse hair of his moustache brushes against your lips and you kiss back with equal gusto. You pull away when it feels like you two are veering into too inappropriate territory for this public park. He chases you, but you laugh softly, pressing a perfunctory closed-mouth kiss to the corner of his mouth. He groans, laughs, and puts his forehead against yours.

You hum, “I guess my fish breath doesn’t bother you so much, huh.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You’re never going to let that go are you.”

You shake your head ever so slightly, “Not as long as I live, Norris.”

[1-800-simping]

when he thinks ur pickup lines are funny and doesn’t make fun of u later for coming up with the dumbest ones ever