#me and my dad has around the same brain cells

[fruskyterceol]

My dad when I showed him this: hes definitely high, very high, around 8ft high

Me: high on both levels, there’s no way he’s sober in this picture

My dad: he’s multitasking

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 02:33 P.M 」

based on this video. this idea has been rotting in my brain for some while :') dad gojo will always have a soft spot in my heart <3

a part of gojo's love entries

your baby’s first trip to aquarium was such a cute affair you were sure you wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

“waaa~” your baby’s eyes were gleaming with wonder as he gazed at the diverse array of colorful fishes above him, completely captivated by the view.

and your husband...

“aren’t they pretty, hmm?” satoru asked his adorable son with a grin, pecking his cheek and holding him snugly in the baby carrier against his chest, with a backpack of baby essentials strapped on his back.

he was the very vision of a domestic dad, and along with your son, who was dressed in a bear onesie, complete with two little ears, they made a really irresistible pair. even you couldn’t fault the crowd for staring at them.

“fwaa! waa~” your munchkin was squirming with joy, his tiny fingers stretching out towards the sight before him. satoru giggled, moving closer to the glass to give his baby a better view.

“look! that’s clownfish! and those wiggly flowers are anemone! and that is—”

he faltered at a fish passing in his view before deciding, “this— i don’t know, but it’s the clownfish’s friend!”

they are basically the same. your little boy and your husband, both of them clearly shared a brain cell as they happily pointed out different fishes.

“meh! hehe!” your baby babbled away, excited and incredibly happy in his father’s hold, and satoru too seemed to feel the same, as his eyes beyond that sunglasses crinkled.

“damn, my kid is so cute.”

suddenly he dived down and pretended to chew his pumpkin’s chubby cheeks, effectively making him squeal in glee.

and oh lord, the way your heart skipped a beat seeing that. it was so clear how much satoru adored your baby, and it made overwhelming warmth rush to your chest.

“he’s a good man,” an elderly lady beside you suddenly remarked, making you turn to her. “not many men do that for their kids.”

“he is…” you agreed with a shy smile.

“it’s a shame that you only have one baby,” the elderly man beside her—possibly her husband—added. “you’re still young and he is so good with them too.”

your heart swelled and would’ve already burst if it was possible. bashfully, you thanked the elderly pair as they went on their way.

and along the way, you received similar hushed comments and adoring looks—

“oh my! their baby is so cute!”

“how can such family exists?! the dad, mom, baby… all three of them are so good-looking!”

“such a hot dilf! can’t he divorce his wife and marry me instead? i’ll be his kid’s stepmother gladly!”

satoru pretended not to hear, but he clearly held back his laugh. you threw the school girl who carelessly blurted that a pointed look, making her scurry away.

and after the three of you were done walking around the aquarium, you stopped by the gift shop to get your baby his first fish pet.

your son suddenly became fussy, and satoru unclasped him from the carrier. “hmm? do you want mama?” he handed him over to you. “here, here~ mama wants to hold you too~”

as soon as your son was settled in your embrace, he giggled, and you couldn’t help but bounce him and coo. “do you have fun? you do, don’t you?”

it might not visible to others, but now satoru was staring at both of his reasons of being with literal stars in his eyes.

several years ago, he thought his life had stopped when his best friend negated his beliefs entirely, but you were there, holding his hand throughout it all. and then you married him— and then, you gave him a son to dote on.

you keep giving his life a new meaning. and he was thankful for that.

. . . meanwhile, you kept hearing whispers from a gaggle of girls in the next aisle, about how much of a dreamboat your husband in his blue shirt was and it was grating at your nerves so much that you pursed your lips into a total pout.

satoru thought you were the cutest, not even second to his baby, and he decided he wasn’t known for public decency anyway so he dived in and pecked your lips—dispelling any stray thoughts and making you flush in an instant.

“sato—!”

and before you could rebuke him, he whispered in your ear:

“so... baby number two, when?”

[gojonanami]

SIT IN MY LAP - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: you and satoru take your daughter to see santa at the mall, and satoru proves that he's just as much of a match for his daughter, as he is for you. ✴︎ contents: fluff, domesticity, satoru being a cute girl dad, crack, innuendo, daughter's name is satomi, implication of pregnancy, wc -> 1,350

Satoru Gojo was blessed in almost every single way — from his cursed technique to his looks, but the thing he was not blessed with was patience. 

“We have to wait how long?” Your husband grumbles as you two wait in seemingly a line longer than the Nile itself all to take for your precious daughter to take a picture on Santa’s lap. 

“I don’t know how long, Toru, it’s probably going to be 45 minutes at least,” and you swear he pouts more then your three year old does, “Santa is very busy this time of year, isn’t he, baby?” You ask your sweet daughter and Satomi only grins up the two of you, after she insisted on standing on her own. 

“Very busy,” she repeats, and Satoru softens for a moment before he sees the long wait still ahead even as the three of you round another corner of Santa’s miniature workshop they had built in the middle of the mall, “Daddy gotta wait with us!”

“Why can’t Daddy go to the car and take a nap instead?” He grumbles, and you roll your eyes. 

“Because daddy has to be in the picture with Santa, otherwise you’ll end up on the naughty list,” and his lips curl, “and not the good kind of naughty list,” you add in a whisper. 

“Daddy has already been naughty!” Your daughter exclaims as Satoru stares down at her dumbstruck. 

“What?” 

“You ate my pancakes this morning,” she huffs, and you stifle a laugh at Satoru’s indignant expression 

“I took one bite—“ but her glower said she did not care, “only three years old and already turning on me,” he mutters, “who carried her this entire time around the mall when she didn’t wanna walk? Doesn’t that earn me some points?” 

“Well I think you’ve been a good boy, aside from the impatience,” and he’s sporting a glower similar to your daughter now, as you giggle between the two of them, “how about this? We’ll all have a treat when we go home if the two of you behave,” and you lean to whisper in Satoru’s ear, “and if you’re a really good boy, maybe I’ll sit in your lap tonight,” 

And he perks up at your words, eyes raking over you, “And are you going to tell me what you want for Christmas?” 

You kiss his cheek, warmth blooming where your lips touched, “I think you know,” 

And a small blush settles over his cheeks, even as he grins shamelessly, whispering, “Have you been a good girl this year?”

You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Definitely not,” your lips skim his outer ear, drawing a shiver from him. 

“Daddy are you cold?” Your daughter notices, but you scoop her up in your arms. 

“Daddy is running a little hot I think,” you chuckle, as you watch him try to adjust himself, his tight pants doing little to help his situation, “he’ll be fine, right?” 

And he pouts again, “I’ll be fine,” he presses a kiss to his daughter’s forehead, “can’t say the same for your mom when we get home,” 

Finally, after many brain cells lost and almost an hour of time, you reach the front of the line. “Santa” sits in his chair, looking quite jolly, despite having to deal with children all day, and he welcomes your daughter, who, for all of her spunk when dealing with her parents, now was hiding behind your leg. 

And before you can say anything, Satoru is kneeling beside her, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He’s running his fingers through her soft white locks, “do you want daddy to go with you?” 

And she considers it, lips in a cute pout that’s all too similar to her father’s, and then nods, “daddy, come with me,” 

“Of course, baby,” and his fingers intertwine with her smaller ones as he takes her up. You hang back a little, your phone ready and poised to take pictures and a video, as you beam. 

Santa holds your daughter as he asks her what she wants for Christmas. Your daughter says something half whispered that you can’t make out, but Satoru does, his cerulean eyes widening slightly before his lips curl into a grin. 

And before you can ask what she said, you’re pulled in to take a picture. You three leave, Satomi in her father’s arms, nestled on his shoulder, peacefully sleeping, “what did she wish for?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 

He snorts, “Sworn to secrecy by Santa,” 

“What’s that? A hidden confidentiality clause?” And he only smiles, as you roll your eyes, “pun definitely not intended,” 

“I’ll tell you when we get home. Too many prying elves here,” he jerks his head at one of Santa’s elves sitting on a bench, clearly on their break with earbuds in either ear. 

“I don’t think they care about a three year old’s wish,” and Satoru’s lips part and eyes comically big in mock offense. 

“This is not any three year old — she’s the next Gojo heir, my successor, the fruit of my—“ and you glare, “our loins,” 

“More like mine,” you cross your arms, tilting your head as you glance at your daughter, “you’re not the one that pushed her out,” 

“Yes I’m the one who put her in there—“ and another scowl makes him clam up, smile bit back, “I’ll tell you when we get home, after I get you on my lap that is,” he adds with a grin. 

“Oh yeah, I don’t know if you’ve been so nice though,” and his free arm slides around your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead, curling his lips. 

His voice low as he murmurs in your ear, “The real question is if you have been, baby.”

And finally, when Satomi is fast asleep in bed — arms and legs tangled in her blanket like a menace, you emerge from her bedroom, sighing, “finally down,” you collapse on the couch beside him, lying your head on his shoulder, as his arm wraps around you, pulling you close, “are you gonna finally gonna tell me what she wished for?” 

And he hums, mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “Sit in my lap, and see,” and you tilt your head, but you slide over his lap, sitting with your knees on either side of his waist, “good girl,” 

“Satoru—” and he’s kissing you slowly, lips meeting yours in a languid kiss and you can taste the sweet hot chocolate on his lips he drank earlier. 

“Been waiting to that all day,” he murmurs, gaze leaving a trail of heat as it slid over his body, and his hands follow, squeezing your hips and making you lurch against his hips, “definitely on the naughty list from that noise,” he grunts. 

“Weren’t you supposed to tell me what Satomi wanted?” You mumble against his lips, as they meet again, before pressing kisses down your jaw and the hollow of your throat. 

“Oh, we wanted the same thing,” and you raise an eyebrow, and he’s grinning up at you, “she wants a sibling,” you breath catches — both at his words and at his darkened gaze — and you can feel his erection press against you, his fingers digging into the flesh of your sides, “wanna make a Christmas wish come true?” 

And your heart flutters, “do you think we’re ready?” You had been talking about possibly having another kid, Satomi was getting older — ready to start school soon enough — and you wanted your daughter to have a sibling to grow up with. 

Satoru’s gaze softens, his palm sliding across your cheek, as you lean into his touch, “I know we are — as long as you want it to,” and you can almost see it now — a little boy with Satoru’s blue eyes and your hair, nights spent up with the baby, days spent as a family, the baby sleeping on Satoru’s chest as you do Satomi’s hair, and another piece of your family complete. 

So you kiss him, lips sliding gently against his, and you smile at him, “Luckily, you both knew exactly what I wanted for Christmas.” 

✴︎ note: i don't celebrate christmas, but i got this cute fic idea in my head and i couldn't get it out lol. i love girl dad satoru.

[autumnmobile12]

My Hero Headcanon: Rei

When I think of Rei’s childhood, I think of Yuki from Wolf Children.

Just not at all being the lady her parents probably wanted her to be and living her best life collecting bugs, feathers, and small animal bones.

And just like Toga, those interests were suppressed because they ‘weren’t appropriate for little girls,’ and she was made to conform.

I mean, look at her expression and tell me she wasn’t told to sit still and be quiet too many times when she was a child.

I think she was a weird kid.

And that's why I play with the snowboarding theme when I do fanworks involving Rei, as well as the idea that Touya’s inability to sit still when he's agitated/excited comes from Rei. It's also why I have the headcanon there was never a point where Rei and Endeavor loved each other. They already have two extremely different personalities in canon, and the high-energy headcanon just highlights a further personality difference.

I’ve already gone into it in more detail with an Endeavor analysis that I made, but here’s an excerpt that illustrates my point:

...what I think shows here is they weren’t really talking all that much. Specifically, he is not ‘talking down to her.’  He is not treating her with any particular disrespect or putting her down as inferior.   He doesn’t have the arrogance he later exhibits. This also isn’t him being aloof and ignoring her either.  Look at his face, specifically his eyes.  That is the same blank, deer in the headlights, “I have one brain cell dinging around in my head that is struggling to find a way to interact with people,” stare he shares with Shouto.

He has no idea what to say to her. 

So finally, Rei turns off to the side to admire the garden, and he asks, “Do you like the flowers?”  It’s a small thing, but it does show that in some capacity, he did show some interest in Rei and making her happy.  He’s just stupidly awkward about it at this point. (Even if his ultimate goal was…well, we’ll get into that.)

...

The long and short of it is if you remove the violence/temper aspect of Endeavor's character, you basically have Shouto: An awkward dork who doesn’t entirely know how to interact with people and he probably doesn’t understand sarcasm or euphemisms either. The main reason we can’t see that side of Endeavor’s character very well is because he’s weaponized intimidation/violence to cover it up. (Dammit, dude, this it not how you patch a character flaw.) So I don’t think Shouto’s isolation and childhood training caused his social ineptitude so much as exacerbated a character trait that was already there. He got it from Dad.

So referring to the earlier pre-kids part of Rei and Endeavor's relationship before the violence actually started, imagine the awkward personality-type paired with a partner who is, by all accounts, weird and has too much energy to be contained. Arranged marriage aside, I like the idea that Rei reverted back to her odd personality after she left her parents’ house. I like to think she danced in the kitchen when there was no one home, hoarded feathers and skulls and other odd keepsakes, and looked for places where she could snowboard. She was a housewife by herself for long periods of time, so who was going to stop her?

There is a short story I absolutely love called Ink, Water, Milk by Catherynne M. Valente. The plot's not relevant to this post, but there is a scene where a bored housewife buys a bunch of those cube-shaped watermelons and just stacks them in her fridge to admire them.

And for some reason, I can picture Rei doing this.

Like Endeavor just comes home to find her sitting cross-legged in front of the open fridge and smiling happily at the nine cubed watermelons stacked neatly inside. (Keep in mind, these things average $100-$200 a piece and are inedible/decorative.) No explanation for why she's done this, she just has a big, ecstatic smile on her face and pointing into the fridge. You know, Touya energy when he's a kid and excited about something. And Endeavor, in true Shouto fashion, is baffled by what she’s done, has no idea why she’s done it, and wondering if there’s a joke he’s not understanding.

I like to mirror this behavior in Touya and Shouto when I can in writing for Ambush Simulation. Underneath the trauma, they are at their core the brother with their mother’s high energy and the brother who is socially awkward and doesn’t quite know how to deal with the unhinged behavior but doing his best.

...

Edit because I just found this gif.

Young Rei:

[aloesarchives]

If you don’t mind me asking, how did Yuuji and Nobara react to Megumi’s dad being the infamous Sorcerer Killer?

Yuuji and Nobara share the same reaction because they share the same brain cell lol.

When they first meet Toji, they thought he was a chill dude that happened to be a hot dad. Both of them knew where Megumi got his looks from. Their first impression of him was he wasn't so bad. They also met Toji on accident when they went to see Megumi at him and Reader's home. Toji answered the door in only a grey tank top and black sweats. Yuuji and Nobara were like "who is this hot dude at Fushiguro's house?!" Then Megumi pops up behind Toji before shoving him to the side to make way for his friends to come in.

But there were bits and pieces they picked on that knew he was different. Yuuji's main one was seeing how muscular Toji's body is when he saw him training in the courtyard when Megumi told him to come over to his house before they go into the city for a mission. Nobara's was Reader's vague and subtle statements that hinted at Toji's fighting abilities. But, like Megumi, they heard the through the grape vine about Toji's epithet but both couldn't see it because Toji never presents himself as intimidating around them.

It wasn't until they saw Megumi get single handedly cooked by Toji without breaking a sweat. That's when they knew Toji was the real deal. Then with the whole reveal Reader did about Toji's involvement in the star plasma vessel incident, it pretty much solidified Toji's deserving title. Especially when they found out how Toji defeated Suguru and Satoru, even killing Gojo at one point. Their special grade teachers, noted to be the strongest in Jujutsu society, were beaten by a man who possessed no curse energy nor technique.

Their reaction were both awe and shock. They weren't necessarily afraid of Toji. Mostly because that's Megumi's dad and Reader's husband, and by the looks of their family life Toji isn't abusive or evil towards them. In fact, they could tell that Toji was very present in Megumi's life, considering their constant banter and bickering. Additionally, Reader is like Toji's handler. So if he does try something, she'll get the spray bottle and spray it in his direction. And they KNOW Toji never talks back to Reader.

Anyways, they were shocked because they didn't know that Toji was capable of doing any of that. That and for an absolute unit of a man to be Megumi's father is surprising because him and Megumi act completely different to each other. The only thing they saw in common was their flat expressions and occasional grumpiness. They were in awe as well because he is powerful in his own right to be able to take down sorcerers with minimum scars.

They were mostly just shocked because he seems like a chill DILF who loves his wife and kids, not a person that killed people for sport. But when they heard everything that Toji's done in the past, Yuuji and Nobara just said "Okay, I can see that now. That makes sense." They are aware that Toji isn't purposely being deceptive towards them and what he did was in the past. They mostly just roast Megumi every now and then about being related to Toji. But not all the time out of respect for Megumi since Toji is his father and that's his family business.

Nobara: Still can't believe Fushiguro has a dad like that! Toji-san is super human and Fushiguro is. . . well, Fushiguro. . .

Yuuji: Kugisaki! We can't say that about Fushiguro-kun like that! But then again, Toji-san did bag (L/N)-Sensei so maybe he got rizz.

Nobara: If you think Fushiguro got rizz for being an blunt anti-social person, you must be smooth brain, Itadori!

Megumi: Will you two just quit it?! Stop talking about my old man like that, he isn't all that! Plus, it's the other way around. Out of the two, my mom has the most rizz. She rizzed up my dad so hard he became a stay-at-home dad and husband. My mom literally domesticated my dad! Get your facts right, you two!

[kpop---scenarios]

Misery Loves Company (1)

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Warning: Language etc

Genre: Coworkers/Enemies to Lovers

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Okay! I'm happier with this version of the first chapter!

Everything Taglist: @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l @iovecb97 @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr @jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx

@wife2straykids @silly250 @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @1810cl

@anskiiz @ayyonoona

“Are you ready for the conference?” Your friend and co-worker, Hyunjin grins. “I can't wait for it.”

“Oh yeah, a week of meetings and workshops sounds absolutely delightful.” You chuckle.

“Believe me, that's not all that happens.” He grins, sending you a wink as he nudges you with his elbow.

You look around the office, catching the eye of the man you despised the most, Lee Know. Or as everyone else in the office called him, Minho. He was an arrogant, self centered, short tempered, selfish and rude man. And for some reason, well not some, a reason well known, he was extremely popular among your co-workers. He was undoubtedly extremely attractive, with a sense of humor that everyone loved, except you. However, that didn't change his shitty attitude and even shittier work ethic, and yet he had the audacity to talk shit about you.

You had walked into the break room one day, when you had only been working there for a few weeks, and there sat Minho with his back to you while he spoke to a few other workers.

“She's just… well, she's fucking horrible at her job.” He chuckles. “I mean, sure she's nice, maybe? I dunno, I haven't really talked to her, but she sucks. She must have been hired for her tits and ass.” He says, laughing. The other workers try to hide their faces as he continues on. But surely he wasn't talking about you? You were hired around the same time as another girl, and this made your stomach sink. You weren't great yet but you were trying, and you hadn't had like a huge fuck-up. Only a few minor ones.

You tried your best to ignore it, since there was a chance he wasn't talking about you and you wouldn't be upset until it was confirmed. “Y/N needs to go. I don't know how she's still even here.” He sighs, glancing over to his left. “Rose, what are you doing this weekend?” He smiles, looking at the other newer girl.

“She's right behind you, man. Why do you have to be such a dick?” One of the men, Hyunjin tells him, getting up from his chair to come up to you.

“Don't listen to him. He barely has one brain cell that's even functioning.” Hyunjin chuckles, guiding you out of the break room. ever since then, you and Hyunjin had become very good friends, while that made you want nothing to do with Minho, and you avoided him for months as best as you could. Unfortunately for you, you were still close enough to hear about his weekends, which led you to finding out that he was the biggest playboy you had ever met. Monday mornings, he was always talking about his latest conquests from the weekend, making sure it was loud enough for you and others to hear, rarely got his own work done on time, and yet, somehow was still praised by management.

You were honestly shocked he hadn't been fired yet. If you were to do some of the exact same things he did, you'd be written up, but he was a god among you all, and that fueled your hatred for him even more.

“Hey, you wanna ride to the airport together?” Hyunjin asks, as you're both packing up for the day. You were all booked on the same flights, tomorrow morning at 9:00am but you weren't going to let Hyunjin go that far out of his way for you.

“That's sweet, but no thanks. It's too far, I'm just going to drive myself, my dad is going to pick up my car from the airport later tomorrow. I appreciate the offer though!” You smile.

“Well if you change your mind, let me know.” He smiles, leaving before you.

You finish grabbing your bag, turning off your computer and making sure you weren't forgetting anything. You make your way to the elevator, clicking the button as you wait for it to ding, you feel the presence of someone beside you. You glance over, seeing Minho standing beside you, impatiently tapping his briefcase.

“Did you even press the button?” He asks, pressing it again.

“What do you think? I'm not an idiot.” You snap.

“Woah.” He chuckles. “A little testy this evening, are we?”

“You ruin my mood with your presence.” You sigh.

“You hate me that much? What have I ever done to you, Y/N?” He asks.

“Oh yeah, I despise you.” You answer. The elevator opens, you push your way in front of Minho to get on first, pressing the close button in the hopes it would magically close right in his face.

“That's hurtful, Y/N.” He pouts. “I just wanna be friends.”

“I have enough friends.” You respond.

“What's one more?” He grins.

“Having you as a friend sounds like absolute hell.” You say.

“Good thing I don't actually want to have you as a friend. You're too uptight for my liking. Maybe if you loosened up a little.” He says. “You know what, probably not even then.”

The rest of the ride down is silent. You get off as soon as you can, speed walking towards the front doors so you can get away from him as fast as possible. That night when you got home you finished up your packing and went to bed early. You had to leave by 630am to get to the airport at a decent time before your flight, you were not going to miss it.

“No, no, no!” You whine, running as fast as you can towards your flight's gate. Your carryon suitcase barely hangs on behind you as you weave through the crowds of people standing around waiting. “Please… no.” You breathe as you reach the desk, slamming your boarding pass down on the top. Seconds later another boarding pass is slammed down next to yours but you choose to ignore it. You were here first and you desperately needed to get onto this flight.

“I'm…” You breathe, your chest heaving. “Here.” The lady smiles at you, opening her mouth to speak. “I'm so sorry.” She sighs. “You just missed it.”

“No! Please! I woke up late and was rushing to get…here! And then I got a flat tire on my way! I-I left my car on the side of the road… I had to hitch a ride the rest of the way!” You complain. “It hasn't even taken off!” You say, motioning to the plane that was now pulling away from the gate.

You let out a big sigh. “Are there any other flights going out later today or tomorrow?” You ask.

“Yeah I really need to be on that flight.” Someone beside you says. The voice was familiar. A little too familiar and you really fucking hoped it wasn't who you thought it was.

You look over and aggressively roll your eyes, seeing the man you worked with, that you absolutely despised.

“I'll be on any flight that he's not on.” You say.

“They’d leave you before they left me, right gorgeous?” He chuckles, sending the desk agent a wink.

“Unfortunately, you're both out of luck.” The lady says, giving you both a sympathetic look. “The next flight there isn't until next week.” She tells you.

“But I need to be there ASAP for a conference. It starts in 3 days!” you complain.

“So do I.” Minho huffs.

“No one cares about what you need to do, Minho!” You snap.

“You can always rent a car.” She suggests. You hang your head down. The last thing you wanted to do was drive for 3 days to get there but it seemed like at this point it was your only choice. When you look back up, Minho is already gone. You make your way to the car rental desk, getting in line behind Minho. A few minutes later the man at the desk walks away with his keys in his hand, letting Minho head up to the desk.

“Just to let you know.” The girl behind the desk starts. “We only have one car available.” She says, forcing a smile.

“I'll take it.” Minho yells, just before you. He turns around, giving you a grin, one that made you want to punch him in the face. “What are you gonna do, Y/N?” He asks, protruding his lip for a fake pout.

“You have nothing left?” You ask the girl, holding your hands together to beg her. You'd drop to your knees if you had too.

“Not until next week.” She says. Minho continues to rent the car, signing documents, giving his license, while you stood behind him, internally fighting with yourself. You could just miss the conference right?

You pull out your phone to call your boss, who answers on the second ring.

“Y/N. Are you on your way?” He asks.

“Well sir…” you say, clearing your throat. “I missed the flight. And unfortunately Minho got the last car rental.” You explain. “So I was wondering…” you begin before he cuts you off.

“That's perfect. Just go with Minho then. What's the problem?” He asks.

“Nothing sir. Just wanted to let you know what the plan was.” You say through gritted teeth.

“Excellent. See you in a few days.” He says, hanging up the phone.

Minho grabs his keys walking past you, without a care in the world. You grab his arm, which to your surprise is a lot more muscular than you had expected.

“Can I help you?” He asks, pulling his arm away from you.

“Can I….” You trail off into a mumble. Minho squints his eyes at you. “Huh?”

“Can I… get a….” You trail off into a mumble again.

“I'm sorry, what? Y/N, speak up. I can't help you if you don't talk to me.” He says, leaning his ear closer. “I'm not getting the question?”

“Can I get a ride with you?” You huff, rolling your eyes.

“See, that wasn't so hard was it?” He smiles.

“So?” You sigh. “Can I?”

“No.” He says, walking towards the parking lot.

“Come on! You talk shit about me! it's the least you can do.” You snap.

“Oh fuck. It was one time.” He says.

“That I know of.” You tell him.

“Just skip the conference.” He says, continuing to walk away.

“I would if I could. Mr. Johnson said to ride with you.” You tell him.

Minho doesn't respond, instead pulls his ringing phone from in his pocket, sighing loudly as he looks at the caller ID. “Hello?” He answers. “Yes sir. Of course sir. See you then, sir.” He finishes hanging up the phone.

He starts walking away, you stay still. Taking in deep breaths. You'd get this figured out. It would be fine. Everything always ends up being fine, right? As you turn to walk in a different direction, Minho turns his head to look at you. “Well let's fucking go, we don't have time to waste.” He snaps, continuing to walk. You smile to yourself as you follow him, but that smile quickly fades when you remember how long you're going to be stuck with him in the car. At least you'll get a break when you get your own hotel rooms.

“Rules for the car.” Minho starts, pulling out of the airport parking lot. “You're not allowed to talk. You're not allowed to touch the radio, you're not allowed to do anything. Okay? It's gonna be a long drive and I'm already annoyed.” He says.

You don't reply, instead just stare out the window, leaning your head back onto the head rest.

“Okay?” He says again, glancing at you.

“What?” You scoff. “You said I'm not allowed to talk.”

“Fucking take me now.” He groans, looking up at the sky.

The first few hours were fine. The hum of the radio filled the car and you slept off and on, but right now you needed to use the bathroom so fucking bad. You didn't want to break the rules but there was a gas station coming up, and if you didn't go you were going to burst.

“I need to pee!” You yell out, pointing to the station. Minho sighs as he pulls off onto the exit, pulling up to the pump. You exit the car as fast as your legs would take you, b-lining straight for the women's room.

A few minutes later, you emerge feeling like a brand new woman. You glance outside, expecting to see Minho waiting in the car but he's no longer parked by the pumps. Your head whips from left to right, and you can't see him. Your purse, your phone, everything you had was in that car and now panic was starting to set in.

Your chest starts heaving as you could barely catch your breath. You were turning in a circle, until you heard laughing. You look over, seeing Minho walking over.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

“I thought you left me.” You admit.

“I parked on the side because someone else needed the pump.” He says. “I've been waiting for you. Jesus christ, let's go.” He finishes, walking back the way he came.

Relief sets in as you follow him to the car. Yeah, you probably should have checked around the whole building, but it also would not have been completely out of character for Minho to just abandon you in some town. The two of you get back into the car, setting off once again. If you wanted to make it on time, you were going to have to drive for another 8 hours before stopping. Honestly, it couldn't get any worse. The silent car ride was killing you. You enjoyed talking to people, and even though the only person you had to talk to was Minho, you would have rather had that than not talking at all. But every time you tried to talk to him, he immediately shut you down, whether or not he verbally told you to shut up, or putting his finger to his lips, or putting up his hand to tell you to stop. After the third time, you just decide to give up.

Eight hours later, Minho pulls into the parking lot of a hotel, parking the car. You both get out, excited to stretch and crawl into your own beds and sleep before another long drive tomorrow. You both walk up to the front desk, each speaking with a different clerk.

“One room, one bed, please.” You smile at the man.

Minho points to you. “What she said.” He murmurs, letting out a yawn.

“I'm sorry.” The man smiles. “Unfortunately, we only have one room available for the night.”

“Whatever.” Minho sighs. “One room, two beds then.”

“No sir.” The man laughs. “My apologies for being unclear.” He smiles.

“We only have one room with one bed.”

[liillyliilly]

Strawberry Blond

hinata shouyou x reader words; 2155 synopsis; he's got a crush on that older girl at school- she has to go on a roadtrip with his family. what will a few hours in a car do for them?

The car pushed forward along the road. She looked out of her window to stare at all the passing scenery, eyeing the mountains and eyes gazing at the clouds floating above. The fields of flowers painted a picture of heartache and blushing faces. Willow trees with their branches holding the long tiers of leaves cascading down like waterfalls.

With all the beauty to admire and things to explore using his imagination, Hinata Shouyou was only looking at her.

The Hinata family planned to visit some relatives farther out in the country. She was only there because her father, a business associate of Hinata's dad, needed someone to take her somewhere close to the relatives they had already planned to visit. Naturally, bringing her along for the seven-hour drive seemed like the most effective method of transport.

But for Hinata, the drive became more about the fact that he would be stuck in a cramped space with his crush for a long time instead of visiting cousins.

The reason for his crush? He doesn’t know.

(keep my eyes on the road)

There wasn’t much that interested Hinata outside of volleyball, but the things that did interest him included gaming with Kenma, trying to be better than Kageyama at everything, spending time with his family, and getting to know the ever-elusive girl better. Hinata knew her from school, mainly because she often hung around Asahi.

When Hinata asked if the two were dating, Asahi and her immediately put his assumption to rest.

As it turned out, she was helping Asahi to improve his interpersonal skills, seeing as she was a member of the student council and her job was student satisfaction. Asahi had come to her asking for ways to seem more approachable, thus meaning she was spending time with him, and not in fact that they were dating.

This was a deal of relief to Hinata. But even after Asahi had improved his people skills, she still stuck around.

Hinata still remembers the first one-on-one conversation he had with her vividly. He had caught her packing up her bag from her last session with Asahi, she had moved her schedule around so that they could talk in the gym before volleyball practice.

“Hello! I’m Hinata, Asahi’s protege of sorts. Nice to meet you, L/N. ” Hinata gave a quick bow before standing straight up again.

“Same to you Hinata-kun.”

“I’m not that much younger than you,” Hinata muttered. There was only a year difference between them, seeing as she was a second year, and Hinata a first year.

“Oh, do you not want me to use –kun then?” She furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head.

He froze up for a minute. Before blurting out a response. “Call me Shoyou. It's my first name.” She smiled and laughed a bit before politely covering her mouth.

“If I plan on calling you Shoyou, then you can call me by my first name too?” She stretched out her hand and Hinata shook it with both of his. Feeling a short jolt move from his hands up to his ears which were slowly beginning to tinge red.

A girl called out to her from the gym entrance, and she nodded. “Well, Shoyou, I got to go, but we can talk later?”

Hinata shook his head up and down so rapidly that Kageyema yelled at him, “Idiot! You’re going to shake all your brain cells out!”

Hinata let out a deep sigh before putting a hand to his heart and letting his eyes glaze over slightly from his daydreams of all the possible conversations he would have with her.

(reach out the car window trying to hold the wind)

“L/N, would you like it if we rolled down the windows? Shoyou radiates so much warmth that it gets hot in the car.” Mrs. Hinata laughed slightly while turning around to face the three children sitting in the back of the car from the passenger's seat.

Hinata exclaimed, holding his hands out to emphasize his embarrassment.

“That’s fine with me.”

Natsu looked from her brother to the girl on the other side of her. She put two and two together and planned something out. Hinata wasn’t exactly discreet when it came to stealing glances in the girl’s direction.

“Mom! I wanna sit in the window seat now!” Natsu complained.

Deceptively, Natsu began to calculate. Hinata started to bounce his knee in his seat, his arm resting on the car door, supporting his head.

“Okay, can you guys move around without us having to pull over then?” Natsu nods before unbuckling both her and the second-year’s seatbelts. “Natsu, I didn’t mean you and L/N switch, you should switch with Sho.” His mom commented.

“Oh, honestly, it isn’t a problem for me to sit in the middle ma’am.” She put up a hand and slid over to the middle seat. But since it was a tight squeeze Hinata and her ended up having their sides pressed up close together, their thighs and the length of their sides completely touching.

“Is this okay Shoyou?” She asked as she pulled her seatbelt across her body.

Natsu sat happily looking out the window and moving her hand up and down trying to mimic a superhero with her hand’s movements.

“It’s great.” He swallowed thickly, quickly turning his head to look out the window.

Eventually, Hinata’s mom rolled down the windows with the touch of a button and Hinata felt cold air nipping at his nose. Sticking his head out the window, the air wiggled its way through Hinata’s locks. When he pulled his head back into the car his hair was sticking out in all directions.

She just couldn’t resist and ran a hand through his hair, before stopping and retracting her hand back.

“I'm sorry.” She squeaked.

Hinata didn’t have many words to say since he was still paralyzed from the feeling of her warm hand against his chilly scalp. So, he just took her hand and put it on top of his head again.

“I liked it. You can keep doing that if you want.” She started running her hand through his hair again. The hair curled around her hand and tickled in between her fingers. Hinata felt a soft hum begin to bubble in his throat. His satisfaction made her giggle slightly at his reaction.

The seven hours spent in that car ride weren’t as bad as Hinata had predicted.

(i love it when you look my way)

Two hours had passed, and Natsu was asleep.

“I think it’s time for a pit stop.” Hinata’s dad brought the car to the side of the long winding road.

Hinata’s parents sipped some tea from a shared thermos, his mom rubbing his dad’s back.

Hinata was searching through the trunk, pushing suitcases to the side. He finally found what he was looking for.

He tossed the volleyball lightly in her direction. She was kicking up dirt and drinking water from her sticker-covered bottle. It fell and rolled around until it bumped into her foot.

“Want to play?” He jogged over to her.

“I didn’t join a sports club, I joined an academic club for a reason.” But, she set her bottle down next to the car and picked up the volleyball.

“I can teach you. When I first started playing, I had to beg people to join in. My third year middle school club included a soccer player, a basketball player, me, and some first years.”

She frowns, “I’m sorry, that sounds like a tough situation.”

After going through some basics, they could hold a decent rally. After she failed to receive it once again, she groaned in frustration. Without thinking, Hinata moved behind her, holding her arms up, and guiding them to a proper receive position. He still hadn’t mastered receiving yet, but he could manage for the most part.

“Like this.”

She smelt like strawberry and vanilla. And he was close enough to feel the way her skin pricked up.

She shuffled away, and tossed the ball back to him, cutting the moment off too quickly for Hinata’s liking. Her heart was beating too fast for her liking.

Six hours into the car ride, the sun slowly setting over the hill. Hinata’s mom swapped with his dad, and she decided to drive the rest of the duration to the destination. Natsu was snoring peacefully, with her chair leaned back. She was drooling on the nice leather of the car.

Hinata’s dad was also asleep, matching Natsu’s snoring and drooling. His mom had earbuds in, listening to her serial killer podcast, humming happily.

“So, student government. What’s that like?” Hinata wanted to know everything about her.

“Well, my experience, or the general experience.”

He could care less about any of the other kids in student government.

“Yours.”

“It’s not what I expected, that’s for sure. Instead of solving issues at the school, it feels more like an elite societal clique. Helping Asahi was the only impactful thing I’ve accomplished this year. These kids in student government, they’re just so disconnected from reality. You know Ito Yuuta, yeah? He’s going to essentially inherit half the buildings in Miyagi, there’s no reason for him to be in student government, he even says there’s no reason for student government.”

She pauses, then continues with her deeper musing.

“It’s a sad thing when you go into something with high expectations, and then there’s no reason to be invested in it.”

“But you still work hard?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Just because others show apathy for an organization doesn’t mean I have to. I can’t do it all, but I can do enough. Scrambling to be involved in our school has been the biggest challenge, but I love people. Genuinely, people can be so amazing. I just want to foster community at Karasuno.”

Hinata thinks back on his own experiences. He knows the apathetic approach others give, and how it disheartens even the most motivated. But what else can a person do besides keep working?

“I’m embarrassed.” He admits. “I want to kiss you right now.”

She chuckles, “You’ll need to wait a few years before I consider that. Nothing against you, of course.”

“No, no, I understand. You’ll wait for me though? Right?”

“Wait for you?”

“Just at least give me a chance in the future. I can grow a few more centimeters, I promise.”

Nodding her head, she wraps her pinkie finger around his. Moving their connected hands up and down three times exactly.

“I promise to give you a chance in exactly three years.”

He could wait.

(keep my eyes on the road as i ache)

The rest of Hinata’s first year wasn’t bad. Karasuno’s Boy’s volleyball team made it to the Nationals. She came to watch the games, making the rest of the student government put up posters to celebrate their accomplishments.

The second year was rougher than the first. She transferred to a school in Tokyo. He went to her going away party. He couldn’t attend her graduation, but he wrote a lengthy note to her. Tsukishima did not enjoy proofreading everything Hinata had written.

He wrote about his dreams, his goals, and how he thought about her more often than not. The note was littered with spelling errors, that Tsukishima had to fix, but by the fifth draft it was the perfect love letter.

His third year was the best year by far, only after it had officially ended. With his graduation scroll in hand, he waited at the centralmost Miyagi shrine. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he fluffed his hair, patted it back down, and then recycled the motions.

She had changed. In all the right ways.

“Me first.” He showed her his diploma, she appraised it.

“Definitely real.”

He shoved his driver’s license into her hand as well.

“Legally eighteen years old now.” She evaluated the ID card.

“Also definitely real.”

They sat on a bench, and Hinata told her about Brazil. She told him about Korea.

“An international cooperation organization? You’re lying.”

“I would never.”

He knew she would never lie about something like that. Something where she would most definitely have an actual impact, an actual community-building opportunity.

He slid his hand into hers, using his thumb to rub the back of her hand. He brought it up to his lips, and he kissed her knuckles. She just smiled in response.

The thing she did next almost made him faint. She turned her body and faced him. He was leaning slightly forward, so she had to duck a little, but she aimed right on target. Giving him a short but genuine kiss.

(look at you strawberry blond)

It was the summer of 2021 when they met again.

He was twenty-five. She was twenty-six and a half.

Right before the Olympics, she agreed to one more road trip with him.

She ended up going on many more.

[viablemess]

modern Codywan AU idea part 1

organized crime member Cody under "mand'alor" Jango + teacher / school board nominee with a heavy past Obi-Wan. This is a beast of an idea post so buckle up and join me for the ride this took over my brain when writing another wip and would not leave me alone. I like it a lot, I hope you do too.

tw: mentions of school shootings, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of physical assault (all vague, but still)

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The Fetts are a influential and very well known organized crime family in a large city, and Obi-Wan is one of three children to Qui-Gon and maybe Shmi, alongside Anakin and Ahsoka.

Boba is a student in Obi-Wan's elementary class. After most of the students are picked up save for Boba and a few other kids, there is a shooting nearby, and Obi-Wan shelters the kiddos until the shooter is apprehended. The Fett Family shows up to pick up Boba and Obi-Wan is respectful to them, oblivious to who they are, and most importantly, kept Boba and the other kids safe. As a result, Cody slips Obi-Wan a note saying "if you need anything call me, no questions asked" with his personal cell number. Obi-Wan saves it, not because he thinks he will need it, but because Anakin might, who has been involved in many illegal street races (alongside Waxer and Boil maybe whoops, they don't know the connection for most of the plot). Or, perhaps Qui-Gon will need it, because he and Shmi have been threatened by individuals and groups around their housing.

For a bit, Boba is the line of communication between Obi-Wan and Cody. He lets little stories slip and Cody hopes Obi-Wan does not call, because he seems like a gentle soul who teaches little kids, he does not belong in Cody's world. At the same time, he is a gentle soul who teaches little kids, Cody really wants to take him to dinner.

Obi-Wan texts a few times to ask about helping his brother Anakin, and Cody admits to not being able to make street race charges go away, but he will poke around, they exchange some information, and that's that.

Cody keeps working under his dad as a very respected *ahem* commander. They're looking into a new organization who might poach some buyers off of them and their smuggling deals, and to top it off, the new organization seems to break a lot of the Fett's unspoken rules of conduct. The organization's name? CIS. Of course. Rex wants to make a gender joke. The CIS are the same folks extorting the Skywalker-Kenobi family. Also of course.

And then parent teacher conferences happen because they're helpful, but Jango gets pulled into a negotiation and can't make it, surprise surprise, Cody has to go. He manages to weasel his way into dinner afterwards, and it's great. Obi-Wan is actually a snarky minx and Cody's falling fast. Obi-Wan explains that he is running for the school board because of a lot of corruption and problems in the public school district, and he wants to support the kids who have rough home lives, and Cody does some tip toeing around, and Obi-Wan picks up on what he isn't saying, because he has done his research now. Cody is so loyal, kind, and strong, and Obi-Wan is also cracking fast. It's no question these two are hooked on each other. Cody offers to walk Obi-Wan back to his car, and finds the windshield broken or his tires slashed or something. Obi-Wan manages to pass it off, and oh darn Cody needs to give Obi-Wan a ride home and it's cute.

Anakin keeps racing to earn extra money, and Qui-Gon and Shmi try to deal with things on their own. Obi-Wan goes back home to check on his parents and only sibling who lives with them, Ahsoka. Turns out someone is threatening her in a sexual manner, threatening human trafficking, and Obi-Wan flips shit. He does not tell Qui-Gon because Ahsoka begs him not too. He certainly does not tell Anakin, and so Obi-Wan goes out and does his best big brother act and tries to figure out where this is coming from. He figures out it's Maul, who has harassed and extorted his family before. A brief fight follows. Obi-Wan breaks some of Maul's ribs. Maul breaks Obi-Wan's wrist. Teaching without his dominant hand for the next few weeks absolutely sucks, and Boba definitely talks to Cody about it. Obi-Wan does not want to panic Cody, he's dealt with people like Maul before, so he tries to pass it off as clumsiness. Cody isn't buying it, but he also isn't going to push... yet.

I'm falling asleep, but will be back with part 2 soon <3

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I do not have time to write this but I had to share the thought before I forget it. If anyone wants to write it please be my guest just credit/share

[beanghostprincess]

it wouldn't surprise me that, despite sanji being the literal cook of the crew, he had an eating disorder (ofc trigger warning here for eds, child abuse, starvation and, y'know, sanji's background in general).

he experienced the most traumatic years of his life trapped inside a fucking cell, with a metal helmet around his head and only eating when his father let him. which was 'only when the kid needs it', probably. which leads to judge saying 'i couldn't even kill my son' and it can translate to 'at least i kept you alive'. and not to turn this into irl trauma, but abusive parents constantly use the 'keeping you alive and giving you food' excuse (the bare fucking minimum) to guilt trip you into thinking that they're good and that you're exaggerating how bad they treated you because, well, at least they kept you alive, didn't they?

so here, sanji sees food as a form of loving but in the sense of 'at least my dad didn't kill me. that's something'. so his vision towards food remains positive but only because of his mom. only because his love language is acts of service and his mom took everything he gave her, even if it was horrific, as a way of saying 'i love all of you. you're perfect because you tried and the fact that you brought me your food is enough to make me feel loved. you're not a mistake' despite his brothers and his father saying that he was, indeed, a mistake and weak for wanting to give food to others instead of just taking it for himself.

both ideas of 'someone who loves you wouldn't let you starve' and 'offering food to others is opening up your heart' coexist inside little sanji's brain.

so it wouldn't be crazy to think that, although sanji loves cooking and his best early memories of it are that book that kept him dreaming while he was locked up, and his mom's words, has a hard time eating food.

besides, sanji is used to giving, not taking. he's not selfish, but actually extremely generous to the point of forgetting about his own well-being. i don't think he actually thinks about how hungry he is until it hurts. until he needs it. he only ate whenever his father let him so he wouldn't starve, and the only thing that made him feel well about food was the fact that he could give it to the one he loved and needed it.

sanji doesn't have good experiences eating food, but only cooking it. it's a great representation of his personality as a whole, to be honest.

then the whole zeff thing happens, and he actually almost starves to death and learns what hunger feels like. but once again, zeff saves him and he's the one to be hungry for not letting the kid starve. which might seem similar to what judge did, but 'not letting you starve because i couldn't kill you' isn't the same as 'not letting you starve because i don't want you to die'. sanji learns the difference that day.

he didn't know somebody could be that kind. especially to him, someone who doesn't deserve it (he thinks he doesn't) because, in his house, love only came when you earned it.

and, you know, sanji's like that. sanji's selfless. sanji does everything for others. and so the guilt eats him up first. what zeff did is beautiful and amazing and we love him for it, but we don't know about how that affected sanji at a young age. which only makes him even more selfless and more of a better, kinder, generous person. and that might be bad, considering how little he thinks about himself already-

he learns that throwing away food is awful, and that you have to be grateful for being able to eat. grateful for living. so his don't-waste-food policy is obviously a big part of his personality due to almost dying of starvation and also owing his life to his dad (zeff, the real one, of course. fuck judge).

but that can almost be dangerous because refusing to waste food leads to forcing yourself to eat only because of his concept of what food means.

and then we have luffy in wci saying the whole 'i won't eat anything that you haven't cooked' which is precious and something very beautiful to say to your cook, but that only brings sanji back to 'starving is a form of loving' and 'you can't let someone you love starve'. and no matter how much he wants to force himself to push luffy away, he gives him food because he knows his captain will keep his promise.

sanji feels guilty, once again, but he ends up fixing it.

the thing is, after everything i've said, i don't think it would be weird to think about sanji viewing food as something external. something that isn't for himself. something that he only has control over because it's for others and not for himself, and it's a concept, a form of love, and not a need. because he does not feel hungry. when it comes to food, he feels responsibility and guilt and love... but never hunger.

hunger is, by all means, a form of selfishness sanji isn't used to unless his body is about to give up completely. he can eat out of pleasure and satisfaction and love for food, but he does it to train a selfless skill that may or may not also be selfish in the sense of 'wanting to be loved and useful'.

so here we have:

seeing food as a form of love because at least his dad wouldn't let him die, but he probably learned to push away the concept of hunger

seeing cooking as the most beautiful way of showing your feelings and efforts and taking care of people

not knowing the concept of hunger due to his own selflessness

scratch the first one, actually starving for others is a form of loving. he will never let the people he loves starve even if it means he dies in the process.

he can't waste food because that would be insulting and disrespectful. no matter the context.

and i'm just saying (and this whole thing is extremely self-indulgent and me projecting again and again) that it wouldn't be surprising to me if he had some issues when it comes to eating and making food for himself.

it's not that he thinks he doesn't deserve food, it's just the thought that he doesn't need it. going back to his past it could be seeing hunger as a form of weakness (not when it comes to others. never when it comes to others), both because of what his family taught him men should be like, and the fact that the manliest man he knows used starvation as a form of love.

so it's seeing hunger as something that makes you weak, but only when it comes to himself because of course, he wouldn't apply the same rules for him as for everyone else. he's just like that.

he thinks about others first, and himself second. always second. and the thought of eating and needing it only comes when it's too much. and when that time comes, the voices in his head tell him that he's weak. and again, i don't think he sees himself as undeserving of food because he has this whole thing about everybody deserving to eat. but he has never played with the same rules as the rest, always a few steps behind, so if he can't fight the thoughts in his head contradicting his morals, that's just how he is.

not to mention the 'don't waste food' part which also would make him feel guilty about not being able to eat if the thoughts of not deserving food and being weak for needing to eat become too much. he can't eat because he doesn't deserve it and because he's weak. and he can't starve, because that would mean wasting food.

so, you know, sanji is out of options here.

if some days sanji just casually decides not to eat- forgets to prepare himself a meal while his crew enjoys his food... that's just the way he is, isn't it? and if he lies about it, it's just another form of love, keeping them away from his problems.

besides, controlling hunger and controlling food is the only way he has to take control of his messy life. when something is out of reach, the unstoppable thing called life he has never been able to control, at least he can choose not to eat. he can choose to starve, this time, with the comfort of knowing he won't. he can choose not to eat this time, not like all of those times when food was controlling him instead.

at least the strawhats will never, ever, starve if he's around. but of course, nobody thinks about asking the cook if he wants to eat. that would be absurd. and it's impossible to think sanji would have some sort of issue with it! sanji, the cook, who keeps telling them not to waste food, not eating? that would be absurd and too selfless to make sense.

that's just the way he is.

[unhinged-ghoste]

I really love talking about my cats so I wanna share my cats with you (pics included)

This is Toast. I got her first. Her birthday is April something, like 7th-17th. She's my most photogenic baby. She's very lazy and fat. We think she's part ragdoll bc you can literally just fling her around and she's like "ok". I adopted her out of sheer anxiety bc I went to the pound alone and picked the first kitten I saw and was like "this is the one simply bc I'm anxious and I wanna go home." Her original name was Athena but I didn't want that name so I named her Toast bc the top of her head looked like toast. Also she has cat herpes.

This is Whisper. He has anxiety like me. My bf picked him out at a different shelter. My bf clearly has a thing for creatures riddled with anxiety. We call him Boy a lot bc he's our only boy cat. His original name was Lennon but who tf has a cat named Lennon so we named him Whisper bc he was quiet as a mouse when we first got him. This has since changed. He is the loudest mf I've ever experienced. He screams when he forgets where you are. He screams when he's hungry. He screams when he's bored. He would open doors if the knobs weren't spherical. He used to SH??? But he's stopped finally. He can speak English slightly but only the word Hello. His breath smells like ass and he needs constant attention or he'll cry. He's the same weight as every cat else but his bones are so heavy bc when he steps on you its like blunt knives are being attemptedly driven into you.

This is Fart. Yes, Fart. Her full legal name is fartsoundeffect.mp3. She's my meme cat, I have so many funny pictures of her. Her original name was Roxanne but she is very deserving of the name Fart. She loves concrete time and her wet food deeply. She is a War Criminal and has been convicted of at least 72 felonies. She was thrown out of a car window as a baby and because of that, she only has 1 brain cell and it is full of Rage. Here is some things wrong with her:

* Rage. Anger. Spite.

* liquid shit

* Insanity

Here are some crimes she has committed:

* Shit on me while I was in bed twice

* shit in my mom's home office, her bathroom, her living room, and behind the stairs in the stairwell

* ripped my dad's, my bfs, and my arm open

* pissed on multiple bathroom rugs multiple times

* dug a hole in the litter box, aim properly, then completely missed and peed all over the floor. In front of me.

* farted in front of house guests, my late grandma's physical therapy nurses, home health nurses, and a church pastor.

* Vomit logs onto the floor

I have taken her and her poop in a Tupperware container to the vet to analyze it to see if it was a bacterial infection or anything wrong with her in that way, and she's perfectly healthy apparently. We've switched food brands 28 times and she's still like this. So. Yeah. I would however go back and choose her again bc I truly believe no one would put up with her other than me.

Anyways thanks for reading ab my disabled cats I'd love to learn and read ab your cats.

[pianocat939]

Could we please get more of the yandere rottmnt with a younger sibling reader?

Sure! I've been kinda laughing for a while now over some random shitposting haha.

Tw: mention of murder, overprotective behaviour, controlling behaviour, crack and fluff

Some Hcs with Yandere Turtles with Younger Sibling MC

(MC is a turtle mutant for those who don't know)

✦Ramona✦

As we all know, he's the mama of the group. That solo mission episode where Mikey got babied at times? Yeah take that but amp it up.

He likes to carry you around just so he knows where you are and what you're doing. He especially does this if you're in the Hidden City.

Works together with Mikey and Donnie to have a nutrition management system. Primarily because he has a habit of spoiling you.

Bedtime at 10. No questions asked.

"No, you are not going to stay up until 3 AM giggling at videos on social media. Now, bed."

Asian kids, you know how your mom/dad just walks in and randomly gives you cut-up fruits? That's him. Gives you a hug when he leaves.

You are not allowed to touch hot foods/containers, let big bro handle it.

✦Le' bottomsworth✦

The spoiler/rule breaker brother ig.

You need to buy/get something but aren't allowed to leave? He has you covered, just say the word and he's sassily homosexual walking over there.

Teaches you sword art when you guys are free. Lets you win before going in for the "kill".

If you can't sleep bcs it's too early/insomnia then he'll know. He teleports or pokes a head through and keeps you company.

"Yeah so um. Do you have any dirt on Donnie? I need something good to attack him with."

You guys break rules together. It pisses both Raph and Donnie.

Texts you memes at 3 AM with 13 emojis alongside.

If you ever speak about a friend he'll get jealous real quick. He'll start interrogating you and makes up his mind to frame them somehow.

He teaches you self-defense yet does everything to ensure he does most of the actual fighting. He's not risking it.

✦Da Hermione Granger but in Purple✦

Builds you a protective shell whether you like it or not. You will wear it at all times other than sleeping. Oh did I mention there's a camera on the back side?

I know siblings aren't supposed to have favorites but Donnie will have a personal beef meter with Leo. (Right? I'm an only child so idk)

"I'm the favorite. Why else would they come to me every day? Leo, you stand nothing against me."

Tries to teach you about his tech, not only because it's his special interest but so he can brag he's the better parental-brother (oh and favorites).

Loves playing video games with you.

If he doesn't like certain media on your phone/devices he'll eliminate them. Including some of the memes Leo sent.

Shares his playlist like it's the last thing on earth to do.

If you like an interest in something and he notices it he'll buy/invent stuff.

✦Mi Left Gripper✦

Aww, it's your twin. Welp time to activate clingy af.

He whines if he isn't in the same room as you, to the point Raph and Leo have to pry him off.

Loves cooking your favorite meals! It's his way of showing that he loves you so much and that everybody else should burn away.

Draws you a lot too. If you're an artist he likes exchanging art styles, portraits, anything really.

Freaks the fuck out if sees even the slightest inconvenience in front of you.

"OMIGOSH! YOU STUBBED YOUR TOE! DONNIE, EMERGENCY CALL!"

Do you like fashion? If so, please exchange outfits with him so he can take the clothing to his secret shrine of his adorable twin!

Will jump on top of you to wake you up.

✦All✦

No leaving the lair without a trusted member of the family.

Friends can only be friends after background checks and approval.

Daily head pats are a must.

——————————————————

That was really on crack ok. Do you guys like the names I chose? I used all my brain cells for "Mi Left Gripper".

- Celina

[sunmovesbehindyou]

Always (joshler)

word count: 5,947

descrip: Tyler has split open Josh’s chest cavity and crawled inside. The way Josh feels about him is becoming unbearable.

warnings: suggestions of suicide, smut if you squint

also: on ao3 @ tylrjsph !! any likes/reblogs are appreciated!! let me know what u think with an ask! feel free to send me a rq to write something as well!!

“Josh,” Tyler calls, the word long and dragged out. They are both at the ripe age of fourteen .

“Yes?” He replies, releasing a soft laugh as he sighs. Refusing to open his eyes, he remains still, basking in the sunlight. Outside of Josh’s house, in the yard, it is a perfect spot to lay down and feel the sun rays. He imagines that he could feel the same if he was in a room surrounded by darkness, only if Tyler was there.

“It’s too quiet,” he complains, rolling over towards him. Despite his closed eyes, he knows he is closer. His arm is pressed against his, and it feels like the strawberry flavored pop-rocks crackling in his mouth as a child.

“Listen to the birds.” Josh suggests, adjusting his arm. Their fingers brush against each other, but neither makes the move to latch onto the other's hand (though, they both think about it).

“No.” Dissatisfied, Tyler shakes his head. “I wanna talk to you.” The warmth that surrounds Josh’s body is a far greater feeling than the one from the sun. Tyler’s voice is but a whisper, the birds chirping around them are almost as loud as he his, despite how close his lips are to Josh’s ear.

“Talk to me, then, Ty.” In agreement, he opens his eyes, his lips involuntarily twitching upwards when he finds Tyler already looking at him.

“It’s just—My dad,” Tyler didn’t continue.

Josh didn’t need an elaboration to know that something bad must’ve happened again. It made sense, now. In the afternoon at lunch, he asked if he could come over after school. Of course, Josh agreed (he would really struggle to ever say no to Tyler).

“I’m sorry.” He meant it. “Do you want to tell me more?” Though he had a feeling he would decline his offer, he still asked. It felt like the right thing to do.

“Not really,” he sighs, and Josh can see that the gears in his brain are working overtime by looking at his eyes. “It’s just been bad, again. Really bad.”

There was only one time in their friendship when Tyler had detailed his relationship with his father, and it left Josh with a newfound hatred for someone he had never met, as well as a newfound urge to protect Tyler in any way he could. Josh was able to mask his true emotions during his brief encounters with Tyler’s father, but the rage that would boil his every blood cell was quite the challenge to ignore. More often than not, Tyler’s father would find a way to belittle him in some way. Usually, it had something to do with Tyler’s scrawny structure, or his queerness (Tyler had cried to Josh about his father’s accusations one time, and yet, he didn’t deny it).

Now, Tyler bit his tongue (Josh had witnessed the aftermath of him learning that skill the hard way), and although he tried his best to remain unbothered, Josh could see the light within his eyes dim each and every second Tyler faced his scrutiny.

After a certain point, Josh discovered that was no use in apologizing. Surely, Tyler knew he was sorry that he was dealt with such cards in his short lifespan of a deck. “Is there anything I can do?”

Shaking his head, his fingers grazed Josh’s once more. “No. You already do enough for me.” He replied honestly. Despite the inappropriateness to feel such a thing in the current situation, Josh couldn’t help but feel a sense of fulfillment and pride. He hoped to always have him feel that way. “I wish we could run away.” Tyler murmurs. A sad smile displays on his face.

“Just us?” The offer sounds too good to be true. In a perfect world, they could. In a perfect world, they would.

“Always.” he responds. “It’s always just us. I don’t want it to be with anyone else.” Josh is even warmer. Now, the sun, his sun, is engulfing him. He does not mind. He will gladly be engulfed. Always, he thinks. “Me too, Ty.” Josh’s eyes close again.

For a moment, he allows himself to fantasize about what it must feel like to only ever be engulfed in Tyler’s presence. It was the closest thing to Heaven on his Earth, he was sure. Does Tyler feel the same? Does Tyler ever want Josh to crack open his chest cavity and heal his heart himself? Josh wants to.

Josh wakes up.

In a daze, he gets ready for the day, trying to mentally prepare himself for the possible obstacle courses the game of life will catapult his way. The preparation never really does anything. It is quite the struggle to give yourself a pep talk when you lack the most important thing necessary: Motivation.

“How do you feel?” Every meeting started the same.

Wednesdays were his session days. Though he considered it pointless, Josh’s mother insisted on it after seeing the emotional, gaping wound he had been left with.

“Good.” Josh’s response is short, curt. He doesn’t have much to say. He’s still waiting. He will always be waiting.

Dr. Rider is staring at him with beady eyes. Josh wants to lean across the table and pluck them out of his cranium. “You’ve been saying that for the last few sessions.” He replies, his voice accusatory.

“Well, it's probably because I've been feeling good for the last few weeks.” With a blank stare, Josh retorts.

It was a blatant lie; there was no doctorate needed to see that. The dark circles under his eyes prove enough. Why Josh feels the need to lie so often when his true feelings always resurface during the sessions, he is unsure.

Disregarding his attitude, Mr. Rider slides over the weekly chart he needs to fill out. “Have you been dreaming about him again?”

I never stopped, is what Josh so badly he wants to reply with. Instead, he just nods. “They’re just…memories. It’s not anything, like, worthwhile.” The words made Josh cringe at himself. Anything involving Tyler was worthwhile.

“Well, if it’s memories that are replaying in your head in your sleep, they are clearly worth something. When we resonate with something, it doesn’t just fade into the voids within our minds. It remains present in all aspects of life, even when we put forth our best efforts to erase it.” For a while, Josh processes this. “What did you dream about?”

“I—” Sighing, he shrugs, looking away. Part of him knows just how correct Dr. Rider is. The other part is battling everything that he is saying. “We were 15.” He utters out, and to be able to remember an insignificant day that happened nearly 4 years ago as if it was yesterday made him wonder how light would ever surface again.

“It’s okay to hurt, Josh.” The words send him into an orbit.

“It’s okay to hurt, Josh.” he whispers, his soft, warm arms engulfing him in embrace.

The hurt was gone. It was no match for Tyler. It doesn’t hurt when you’re here, he almost says, but he doesn’t. Instead, he hugs him back, breathing in his scent. He smells of vanilla and honey and all things warm. It’s the candles my mom lights, Tyler always says.

The scents feel like home, or what used to be of his home when he was young. Maybe he likes it so much because it feels so familiar, like being an unknowing child in the world.

They are both at the ripe age of sixteen.

“I know. But honestly, it’s fine. It’s just an argument. It's nothing in comparison to what you’ve got going on.”

It was only a simple argument, but it was enough for Josh to bike over to Tyler’s house at eleven o’clock at night. Tyler was used to arguments and chaos. He was born into a life of difficulty and he was probably never going to escape it. Perhaps that’s why he favors leaving so often. His lack of structure allows him to escape. Half the time, he didn’t even know where his Mom was. Josh’s lack of structure is repaired by Tyler’s mere presence. Tyler is the rebuilt infrastructure in a crumbling building that is seemingly fine from outside. They mended each other. Josh was Tyler’s only real sense of stability, but even he left that at times. To Josh, Tyler is the stars in his entirely black sky.

“Comparing our struggles doesn't make it any less painful for either of us.” Tyler dismisses. He is so wise. “You know, when I need a distraction, I read.” He mutters, releasing his grip from him to run to his bookshelf.

Josh is familiar with the book—He had seen him read it before. It was by Michael Huemer, titled: Knowledge, Reality, and Value: A Mostly Common Sense Guide to Philosophy.

“What are you reading about now?” Typically, the arguments change every chapter, he’s learned. Each chapter is a new philosophical argument, and while he sort of thinks it’s all bullshit, he can’t help but ask. Tyler can make anything interesting.

“This chapter has been about souls.” he then explains. “So, if it is true that we are all non-composite “simple” things...like, eithim physical or non-physical, then we are all souls. If one was a simple, physical thing, one would be an elementary particle, but that cannot be.”

Josh doesn’t understand, really. He doesn’t tell him. Instead, he listens. “Right.” He agrees. Tyler sits down on his bed, motioning for Josh to join him.

His singular word seemed to encourage him. “We, as humans, as souls, are far more complex than a simple composite thing. So, souls have to exist. It is the only way to distinguish us as people... or, as–as beings. An unarguable fact is that scientists have concluded that every atom in your body gets replaced at least every 5 years–”

“What if I want to argue that?” Josh interrupts, a smile on his lips.

With an eye roll, Tyler shakes his head. “You can’t argue with science.” The slight smile playing on his lips allows Josh to know that there is no ill intent behind his reaction.

“I fear I’m missing the point of philosophy, then.”

Tyler ignores his comment. “When all of your cells are replaced, no one believes that the person has also been completely replaced; No one is arguing that people leave their bodies and become entirely new individuals when a certain number of atoms gets replaced in their body.”

“Well, maybe I’m going to.” Shrugging, Josh leaned closer to Tyler, their shoulders touching.

This time, Tyler lets out a soft laugh, a glint in his eye as he looks over at him. “Would you stop?” Josh smiles. He does stop. “Okay, so, we distinguish ourselves from particles and cells and can determine that there is a clear difference between us as people and souls and composite “simple” things. We as beings cannot be physical simple composites because physical simple composites constantly leave our bodies throughout our existences and get replaced with new ones while we continue to exist as the same person or soul or being.”

Josh was sort of following now. “I’m so glad you’re not a physical simple composite, Ty. I hope you always remain this person and soul and being.” He murmurs.

Tyler’s cheeks redden. He continues. “Let’s make a hypothetical situation to denounce the idea that a part of our body, like a brain, is what makes us our own individual selves. A physical simple composite can be split in half. When a person undergoes a hemispherectomy, half of the person’s brain is removed. After that surgery, most people survive and continue to live, like, a relatively normal life, like as normal as you can with half a brain, I guess…” He pauses, looking into Josh’s eyes with a smile that makes Josh feel lightheaded. “Using that scenario, we determine that our brains are not what makes us our own people. If a brain is removed from the body, let’s call that body person one, then split it into two. Then, each hemisphere is transplanted into two different bodies—why are you staring at me like that?”

Jeeze, was it that obvious? “No reason.” Shrugging, he replies. There was definitely a reason. Tyler gives him a knowing look.

“Anyways. Now, two humans are existing with half of person one’s brain. But, who is person one? If the remaining hemisphere is the one that is determined to be what is left of person one, and both hemispheres would qualify as the remaining half, who is person one? Both halves would be considered person one. And obviously this cannot be true because one person cannot morph into two people.”

“Go on.” Sometimes Tyler went into ridiculous rambles, but this one was actually starting to make sense.

“All of this is to prove that people cannot be categorized into a physical simple composites such as a brain, because people exist, but there are no physical objects (e.g. the brain) that are plausible candidates for being people and people cannot be physical simple composites. So, we have to be souls, right?”

“You’re too smart for me.” He thinks this often. It’s rare he voices it, but this time it felt necessary. Tyler only smiles. It’s the soft kind of smile that can make anyone fall in love with him. The kind of smile that feels like steamy, hot chocolate in ice cold hands after venturing in the cold for too long. The kind of smile that felt like the first drip of morphine into your veins after being in constant pain for days on end. “But I think I understand.” Josh confirms, thinking for a few moments before speaking again. “If we are souls, I’m glad your soul decided to take over this body, and I’m glad my soul decided to take on mine. And I hope my soul is tied to yours, somehow.” The words are spilling out of his lips; he is a leaky faucet.

“We’ll always be tied together.” Each word pierces through Josh’s veins in a delightful way. Tyler said that all cells are replaced every five years, but he is pretty certain he has just rejuvenated him on the spot. Sitting up, he turned to look him in the eyes. “Even if we are apart. Always.”

It was a sign. A sign he did not pick up on.

Josh was too overwhelmed with emotions to think about his looming words. “Even in other lives? Do you believe in that?”

Shrugging, he lays back on the tan colored sheets, stretching his arms over his head. “What, like soulmates?” He nods. “We can save that talk for another day.” he whispers, and Josh relaxes against the bed, too. He doesn’t want to wait another day. He wants to hear his argument now. “Did I go too fast?”

“No. I-I actually understood that one, surprisingly. And I think you have a strong argument.”

“Thanks, Josh. I really tried with that one.” him smile was sincere, different from the other one (not that that wasn’t sincere). This smile felt like the sun burning one’s skin into a tan on a hot summer day, or maybe the snowflake kisses on the first snowfall of the winter season, or maybe the first fresh breath one takes after being surrounded in polluted air for years.

“I can tell.” Josh replies, shuddering as Tyler lowered his arm back down. His fingers brush against Josh’s.

“But, for the record, I do believe in soulmates.” Tyler murmurs, sliding his hand into the gaps of Josh’s fingers. He squeezes his hand, three times.

Josh is sure he knows what this means. He squeezes back. “Me too.” He whispers.

“Josh,” He hears his name, and Josh closes his eyes.

“Josh.” Tyler’s voice is echoing, almost as if he is drifting away further and further. It’s almost like he is at one end of a tunnel and Josh is running towards the opposite end. It almost doesn’t sound like him. It almost sounds like—

“Josh.” Dr. Rider interrupts, and Josh is made painfully aware that he is not with Tyler, nor is he in his room, nor is he lecturing him of his philosophical beliefs. He is met with beady eyes instead of gentle caring ones, and he feels like he is closer to hell than ever before.

“I—”Unable to formulate a proper sentence, he stammers. It was hard to adjust so quickly; his brain was able to paint memories over and over again with such accuracy and attention to detail that it truly felt real. “I thought I—” Again, his words are messy and incoherent (just like his brain).

“We were talking about your graduation next week.” Offering him a moment to regroup, Dr. Rider observes his flustered state.

Josh isn’t sure how his body is able to leave his current state and enter the past as if it is the present, but Dr. Rider says it is dissociation from a traumatic loss. The diagnosis makes things feel too real, so while he pretends like it isn’t real, he pretends that each flashback is. It’s not entirely a lie. The flashbacks are real, of course. They are just that: Flashbacks.

“Right,” Nodding, Josh thinks back to the graduation ceremony set up. There will be an empty seat in the last row. “I keep thinking he’s gonna be there.”

“He’s not coming back, Josh.” Dr. Rider’s tone was soft, non-judgmental. It made Josh angry. In fact, he was borderline seething. If he was only able to see one color at a time, it surely would be red. How could Dr. Rider say such a thing? He didn’t know anything.

“You don’t know that.” Josh argues, and Dr. Rider can tell he has struck a nerve deep within Josh’s being.

“Listen,” Dr. Rider’s voice is stern. Josh glares at him through his stupid glasses. “Statistically speaking, after 48 hours…” He doesn’t finish his words. “There comes a point where you have to start approaching acceptance. I don’t know what happened, but—“

“You don’t know anything.” Snarling, he grabs his backpack, heading for the door.

“Josh, please—” Dr. Rider begins, but Josh is having none of it. For dramatic effect, he slams the door.

That night, he is awoken by Tyler’s rustling. “Come back to sleep.” Wiping his eyes, he watches as he frantically moves around his room to gather his belongings.

He had barely been there for a few hours. In the middle of the night, he came knocking on his door, teary eyed and distraught. Josh didn’t ask. He knew he would tell him when he was ready.

When he stares at him this way, he feels as if he is on the point of Mount Everest. Josh becomes painfully aware of his feelings when Tyler looks at him like this.

“Come back.” He pleads, and Tyler finally listens.

Tyler crawls into his bed, the skin of his arm tingling against his—just like before—like the strawberry flavored pop-rocks crackling in his mouth as a child. Turning his head, his eyes pierce into Josh’s dark ones. All at once, it is intimidating and enticing. Without further warning, he slings his arm over his torso, sending the pop-rocks all over his body. The rocks pop even stronger as he moves closer, burrowing his head in the nape of Josh’s neck. For a moment, he tenses, totally unprepared for such close contact.

His skin is on fire. Tyler’s touch drenches him in gasoline, his own thoughts setting him ablaze. Hesitation is painful. Quickly, he wraps his arm around his body, his grip strong. It’s a silent way of saying, I’m here.

Spotting his free hand, Tyler grasps it, intertwining their fingers slowly. Keeping their embrace rested on Josh’s chest, he takes quiet breaths.

“You make me believe in soulmates.” Tyler utters out, and Josh feels his chest cave. It’s as if Tyler is a surgeon who’s just bisected his sternum. His heart was completely accessible now, and Tyler was about to grab it.

“I do?” It’s a weak reply. He cannot think straight.

“Yes.” Tyler nods, slowly. Pushing himself upwards, he curves his body towards Josh. His upper half hovers Josh. His face is so close to Josh's, his breath fanning his face. The tension between them is so thick, it’s unbreathable.

Tyler’s fingers are now burrowing into his open wound, scratching his pericardium and grazing his arteries. Josh lets him. Tyler can do whatever wants.

Josh’s heart stills as Tyler slides his leg atop Josh’s, he’s straddling him. Josh is going to die. His hand flies to Tyler’s thigh, and it makes Tyler’s breath hitch.

“Tyler,” Josh warns, and there is an unreadable look in Tyler’s eyes. He is still so close. Tyler’s hand cradles Josh’s face, his fingers soft as he caresses the skin. His eyes are focused on Josh’s, he looks so certain and so unsure at the same time.

It’s unbearable. Josh mends the gap between them, swallowing the gasp Tyler lets out as he moves his lips against him. Their chests crash together and Tyler falls forward. Josh’s chest is heaving as Tyler pulls back to breathe.

“I hope it’s us in every life.” Josh whispers, and Tyler nods quickly.

“It has to be.” He breathes out, and he’s pressing his lips back to Josh’s again.

Josh feels like he is on fire. Tyler's mouth is so warm, it feels so perfect against his own. He didn’t know that things could feel this way. The grip he has on Tyler’s thigh tightens, and Tyler moves forward on Josh’s leg. Tyler is poking at Josh’s leg. He grips him tighter.

As Josh’s teeth scrape Tyler’s bottom lip, he lets out a soft whimper. Pulling back, Josh looks at him, studying Tyler’s flushed cheeks.

“God, I’m—” Tyler laughs, and through the moonlight Josh can see how his cheeks grow even darker. “I’m so hard.” He giggles, and Josh lets out a laugh too.

“Yeah, I—I wasn’t gonna say anything,” Josh had felt his hard-on pressed against his leg, but he chose to ignore it.

“You’re not?” Boldy, Tyler reaches down to feel Josh’s semi hard-on. The action makes Josh gasp, and he’s practically fully hard now. “Oh,” Tyler whispers, teasingly, making no effort to move his hand. This side of Tyler is completely new. Josh didn’t know it existed.

He refuses to let Tyler think he’s flustered anymore than he is, he wants to reverse the roles. Josh pushes forward, causing Tyler to topple backwards as their lips crash together. Rolling his hips, Josh smiles against Tyler’s lips as Tyler whimpers.

“Oh,” Josh teases, and Tyler’s laugh is so cute that Josh has to kiss him again.

“I’ve never—I don’t know what I’m doing.” Tyler warns, and Josh smiles softly.

“You think I do?” Josh retorts, his hand sliding under Tyler’s shirt. The skin is warm, the touch makes Tyler shiver.

All smiles, Tyler reveals his crooked teeth. Josh can’t help but run his thumb across them. He’s so cute, he’s so beautiful. If he could get himself to get up, he would turn on one of the lights in his room to see his skin illuminated, to see every single muscle in his face contort as Josh did as he pleased.

“Maybe not.” Tyler backtracks, his hand reaching out to run his hands through Josh’s hair. “Josh,” His voice cracks, and Josh pulls back a little further to look him in the eyes. He hums. “I’m really glad that your soul found mine.” Tyler whispers, shuddering as Josh leaned down to press a kiss to his jawbone.

“Me too, Tyler. You’re my only reason.” Josh didn’t elaborate. Tyler didn’t need him to.

That night, their souls become one. Tyler is shaking and trembling when they’re finished, and he finally understands what love feels like. Josh feels fully swallowed by the sun; he is sure his life will never get better; he is sure Tyler is the light of his life and will be this forever.

He says this to Dr. Rider.

His therapist sighs. “When you develop the mentality that nothing will get better, you will cease the possible progress you can make.”

For a moment, Josh considers this. He considers what Tyler would think of him in this current state, and he wonders if he would be disappointed or shocked. “I just feel like there is my life with him, and then this place that I’ve been stuck in after him.” Josh words this carefully. He doesn’t feel like there is life after Tyler, so he doesn’t say life.

“Josh.” Dr. Rider sighs. “You have to find meaning in your life without him.”

“I’ve tried.” His voice shakes. There is nothing without Tyler. How does the world go on after it's been stripped from each ray, how do the animals survive, how do the people breathe, how do the plants flourish…

Josh wants to say he is overdramatic. He wants to say it’s not as serious as he’s making it out to be, that it’s going to be fine. But he can’t. He doesn't feel dramatic. He doesn’t feel like it’s going to be okay.

“Grief affects us in unexpected ways.” Dr. Rider begins, and Josh flinches at the words.

“Please—” He begs, he can’t take it. He won’t accept it. “Not grief.”

“Okay, Josh.” He treads lightly. The fragile timbre in his voice is a signal that he’s not quite ready to come to terms with everything yet. “Would you like to tell me about the dreams—the memories,” He corrects himself. “you’re having?”

Talking about it feels so painful. “I-I wish I could remember it all.” He hates himself as the days go on and he forgets more details. Tyler’s face is starting to get blurry. “I wish I could tell you everything.” Josh says, and he’s suddenly lying in bed with Tyler’s head on his chest.

“I wish I could tell you everything.” Tyler confesses, and Josh looks down at him as if he could see his face. The vibrato in his voice makes Josh’s neck tickle, and a slight smile makes way onto his face.

“Why can’t you?” He whispers, allowing his fingertips to gently caress him back. Goosebumps arise on his skin, but Josh cannot feel them through the shirt covering his body.

Tyler doesn’t answer. Instead, he squeezes his hand three times again.

Three times.

Josh is still hoping for a reply as he pulls away from him completely, opting to sit up instead. “I’m going again.”

His body runs cold for multiple reasons. He sighs. Blood, now combined with pain, courses through each vein in his being. Maybe he was delusional to think that things would change after the last few weeks. “You’re always going, Tyler,” It bothered him. He could never stay stagnant.

Since he had turned 17, he would abruptly leave for days with little to no notice; It was easy for him to go when the only person truly in his corner was Josh. He supposed it had to do with gaining some control, or feeling like he was in charge of his own life, or something along those lines. He would often leave on the weekends and return in the early hours of Monday morning so he wouldn't miss school. He usually told Josh while he was going (he was driving his dad’s car upstate, taking the train to one of the big cities, etc.), but he didn't ask, so he didn't tell.

Standing up again, he murmured, “I know.” The lack of effort in his reply upset Josh.

“For how long?” Now, he was sitting up, staring at his movements in the dark. He wasn’t sure how he could even see with the lack of light, how he was able to get his things in the first place, but he thought it might be because his eyes were still adjusting from being woken up. When he was met with silence, his heart started to race. “Tyler, how long?” He repeated.

“A few days.” he shrugs, seemingly unsure.

Days. Josh’s birthday is in two days. It is sort of a big deal, and it is an even bigger deal to miss. Birthdays aren't super special to him, but Tyler willingly (and seemingly carelessly) missing his birthday made each bone in his body throb in agony. He thinks of the intimate moment they just shared, and his mind is stranded. Three times. What did that mean? What was he trying to say? Josh knew before, but now is not so sure.

Josh wants to beg him to stay. In a perfect world, he would never have to ask him to stay. Simply, he would just never leave.

“You’re going to miss my birthday.”

The words make him freeze. Looking up, it is clear that realization dawns upon him. It is clear he forgot. That was unlike him. Something had to be on his mind. The pause only lasts a few moments before he returns to packing his things. “I’m sorry, Josh.” he whispers, and the sound of a bag zipping up indicates to him that he is still leaving. Carefully, he leaves his hoodie. Josh does not realize it until a few days later, and he is left to wonder why he has done so.

Josh’s heart is throbbing in Tyler’s grasp. He wonders if he can feel the rapid pumps, if he even cares how fast, how hard it’s working. Tyler's grip is tight, fingers tangled between his pulmonary veins and both vena cavas.

As his footsteps get closer, his chest feels heavy. “Please, Ty.” He begs, staring at his shadowed figure. “Just this once. Stay.”

Tyler pauses. It seems that he is genuinely considering this. Josh feels false hope.

If Josh could make any changes in his life, he would’ve asked him what was wrong.

He didn’t.

“I can’t.” He replies, and Tyler’s warm skin is touching his cold skin, his scent invading his senses one more. The embrace is not nearly long enough. He pulls back, and a wave of dread washes over him.

“Talk to me. You want to tell me everything. Please, Ty. Tell me. Tell me and I’ll listen to every word,” He knew he shouldn’t beg, but he couldn’t help it. Grasping his hand, he squeezed it. “I’ll listen, and—and I’ll never forget. Just, stay. For me.”

“I know you won’t.” Bitterness coats Tyler’s laugh.

“I’ll go with you.” Josh is desperate. Tyler stares at him in fear. He doesn’t want Josh to see what’s about to unfold. He needed one last night with him, one more goodbye. This was it.

Abruptly, Tyler kisses him. The usual goodness is clouded by the inevitable goodbye. Josh doesn’t like this. It feels different, but Tyler is good at distracting him. He kisses him until his lips are raw and swollen, until they’re both barely able to breathe for air.

“Remember what I said, okay?”

Now, Josh’s words are rushed, he feels panicked. “What?” The marathon in his chest was giving him nausea.

“Even if we are apart. Always.” he closes the door before he can reply.

Another regret: Josh spends a few seconds too long deciphering what that meant and doesn’t get to stop Tyler from leaving.

Tyler has fully grasped his heart now, severing the ties between his nerves and veins. His aorta is mangled, half still in his chest and half still in Tyler’s hand as he escapes down the stairs. Josh is bleeding out all over his floor.

He wakes up. Irregular breathing, hair matted to his sweaty head, throbbing heartbeat. Each rising morning is a newfound excruciating kind of pain. Some days, he would pretend that all of it was a lie and that Tyler was coming back. Othim days, he would pretend like he never truly existed. It made it more livable.

For two months after his disappearance, he was barely a functioning individual. How he was able to function with a gaping hole in his chest cavity, he didn’t know. Even now, he still felt like he was barely living. Even to do that felt hard. The idea of being with someone almost every day for so long, for so many months and months, and to have them suddenly disappear. He did not understand. He did not understand how Tyler could touch him and feel him and say the things he said to him and just leave suddenly.

Josh’s senior year was filled with therapy sessions and concerned whispers in the hallway. Some days, he could get away with not thinking about him. Albeit rare, those were the best ones. They were the most pain-free and the most bearable.

Other days, he was in everything. He was the music playing through his headphones, the enticing main character laughing on the TV, the vanilla-sugar candles at the store. He is the voice he hears in his head as he re-reads Michael Huemer over and over again.

Time is a wound healer, according to Dr. Rider. Josh wonders if it is true, or if it only applies to wounds that are physical. Josh does not feel healed by any means. In contrast, Josh feels haunted. Josh feels extremely lost. The dissociations have not ceased.

Yet, it has been eight months.

Eight months having days morph into weeks, and weeks morphing into months. Eight months of being left in the dark, because Tyler truly was his light. Eight months, and Josh is still drowning underneath the surface. Eight months, and now it is June. Eight months, and he is graduating tomorrow, without Tyler by his side. Eight months, and yet, Tyler is still hime. The wound he has left remains: Thus, so does he.

Even if we are apart, he thinks, and oddly, the words still comfort him. He isn’t sure why, and he isn’t sure if he will ever see Tyler again, but he is sure that he will remember that for the remainder of his life. He is also sure that the three times he squeezed his hand will haunt him, too.

He wonders if Tyler still believes in soulmates, if he is around to still believe in anything. To be fair, he wonders a lot of things. Many of life’s questions will remain unanswered, he’s decided.

All he knows is that some people are the sunlight in the darkness, and some people can become the darkness that engulfs said sunlight. He still hopes his sunlight will come back to him. There is no amount of candles or light bulbs or electricity that can replicate the sunlight that has been stolen from his earth. Josh feels as if he is trapped in a house fire, tied down by ropes, restricting his every move as he struggles relentlessly. The heat is slowly melting his skin away.

Ty…how fitting of a name.

He imagines how one might feel to be swallowed by a blackhole, and still thinks it can’t be as bad. He imagines the feeling of Tyler coming back, cracking open his ribs again and placing his heart back inside. He hopes he would press a kiss to each stitch he would have to make to repair every broken part within him. He imagines how Tyler would be by his side right now, reading out what should’ve been his graduation speech and asking for his advice. He imagines his warm skin against his, his nervous smile, and his calculated words. He imagines him asking him if they would still be this way, this close, after graduation.

Always, he would say.

[spiritshaydra]

Okay yeah gonna say screw it and just post the fullbody I finished back in November because her ref is taking too long and I wanna share my cringe ass nae nae hellspawn 😭

OKAY SO

THIS IS REQUIEM (Or just “Em”)

And she’s a Megasound fanspawn,, bear with me, I’ve never made an oc like this before so I’ve been extremely nervous to show the creature off. 💀(especially since this is the fancharacter type I avoided making at all costs when in high school despite it leading to some very interesting character development.) Eventually I just said screw it, I’m proud of the design and character work I’ve been developing since August, I’m going to show her off.

I don’t really take her all too seriously as I originally made her to shitpost because I thought it’d be funny. And like my main TFP OC Quantum, she eventually grew past that and became something more. (While still keeping her silly at the same time)

I have. A LOT. Of development for this single celled organism that prolly won’t fit in one post, so on here I’m just going to do a sort of character bio thing (based on the format of Quantum’s Toyhouse bio) to introduce her. (Maybe I’ll do a Q&A sort of thing if anyone’s actually interested in that?)

HERE WE GO:

Name: Requiem (Em for short)

Name Origin: This is what happens when you put a poetry/mythology nerd and a music nerd in a room together and have them name something. You get a name with origins in both music and literature (A music or literary composition that acts as a form of remembrance for the souls of the dead.) annnnnnd a reference to a mythological figure (the name of Megatronus/The Fallen’s weapon, the Requiem Blaster. Gee sure wonder who’s idea that was.) Unfortunately, the goblin who was given that name has a grand total of two brain cells and has as much class as a hagfish.

Gender: female

Pronouns: she/her

Species: Cybertronian

Height:  12ft approximate (for design depicted above)/ 30ft (adult; not pictured)

Alt-Mode: (Base) Cybertronian heavy bomber/ (Earth) Tupolev Tu-160 Blackjack

Home Planet: Earth

Faction: Decepticon

Pre-War Occupation: Did not exist before the war.

Personality: Requiem is loud, stubborn, rude, mischievous, a little naive, and all around a feral mess. Absolutely no filter. Textbook example of “curiosity killed the cat”. The champion of the age-old schoolyard discussion of “my dad can beat up your dad.” For… obvious reasons.

She’s easily bored and easily distracted, and thinks it’s entertaining to mess with other bots in the form of stupid pranks and barrages of questions.

Has a bit of a potty mouth and gets creative with her insults.

A fembo (but a lil mean) was told to use her head in a fight, but ended up head butting the opponent and subsequently knocking them out as a result.

As a result of (EXTREME) helicopter parenting combined with adrenaline junkie behavior, Requiem has the tendency to be an escape artist and to purposely seek out potentially dangerous situations such as but not limited to: Diving into a hurricane (to see what would happen), storm chasing (the bigger the better! Also to see what would happen), playing Icarus and getting struck by lightning on the Flight Deck of the warship (STRIKE ME DOWN ZEUS), sneaking out of the Nemesis and simultaneously smuggling all sorts of creepy crawlies and other organic critters back on board (has to be shaken out just to be sure.), being a little too interested in volcanic activity, sneaking weapons out of the armory and attempting to join the fight, and sneaking away from the ship to “explore”. Em wrangling is a very tiring objective.

If Rumble and Frenzy were alive, they would’ve definitely gotten along. (And would’ve been an unstoppable force of chaos oh gOD.)

She likes the pastel magical horse show about friendship, LOVES stickers, and her absolute favorite color is the most obnoxious eye bleeding shade of pink imaginable. (She was denied changing her PRIMARY paint job color to it for obvious reasons. Honey, that is a LOOK and not exactly a good one.)  She likes to pretend to be a gladiator. She likes to give people really stupid and bad nicknames for the hell of it. A favorite being combining the first few letters of a name or descriptor with “uncle”. She thinks it’s hilarious. A little too interested in arson and explosives. Her music taste can be described as “2012 Warrior cats amv” and “noise”. Really likes slasher films for some reason.

She exhibits several behaviors that could only be described as those of a cryptid. (…or cat.) These range from being able to sneak up on others and move without making a sound, staring unblinkingly and expressionlessly at things and other bots, climbing up and perching on top of things, noise mimicry, recharging facedown in a deathlike manner, and the worst thing being how she used to skitter across the walls and ceilings of the Nemesis as a sparkling. There were a handful of instances where she got into the vents of the ship and it was a nightmare trying to coax her back out. Oh yeah. There was a biting problem.

Requiem either hates or actively dislikes things ranging from water, being told to stay still, the thunder part of thunderstorms, the medbay, and being quarantined.

Her social ability leaves much to be desired, as she was raised in total isolation from her own age group, so she lacks most social skills as a result. Because of this, she often comes across as “weird” and as a bully, even if unintentional. Due to her isolated upbringing, she is a very lonely individual despite not exactly acting the part. Being routinely quarantined does not help that feeling of loneliness in the slightest. Em wants nothing more than a friend, or at least an acquaintance to spend time with. It’s just that, given who her parents are, that makes things impossible.

She has a very unhealthy view on death, as it isn’t exactly rare onboard the Nemesis. Surprisingly, she was actively kept away and shielded from most of the fighting as a child- however, in wartime there’s only so much one could be protected from even as the child of the highest ranking individuals of the faction.

[thegeminisage]

ok! it's time for a ds9 update. last night we squeezed in "move along home" and "the nagus."

move along home (ds9):

i am Informed this is a divisive episode but honestly i had fun w it!!

nice 2 see jake always. every time jake is on screen w his dad sisko my best friend sisko get to exude good dad energy. love that.

like. please. he's gonna give jake the talk? at 14??? 14 is too late. he knows everything. also lmao the fact that nog there ferengi where women don't wear clothes told him everything. i'm choosing to ignore my annoyance with ferengis as a whole and find that funny because of sisko's reaction

reasonably funny antics between quark and odo here. i am getting a little tired of odo not getting anything to do besides flirt with quark, but then i have to remind myself that odo had an episode all to himself quite literally six episodes ago, it's just our insane watch order + bad batch and natla coming out that makes it feel longer to me

quark like screaming on his knees begging not to have to put someone to death when nbody was gonna die anyway was actually really funny, but i do like the nuance in his kneejerk reaction when he found out the pieces were people, which was to forsake pride and ask odo to play for him. he could have gotten defensive for the bit, which he did do later, but his first reaction was to be scared which is like completely normal and went a long way towards humanizing him in an otherwise VERY silly episode

my favorite moment of this episode, besides the part where they hotboxed the shap, was when those little balls of light were coming towards them and sisko was like FIND COVER and julian bashir, instead of finding cover, stood directly aainst the wall they were aiming at, ass first. and then died. i want that twink obliterated.png

the nagus (ds9):

thank you to whomstever warned me about this episode

it was not good and it did suck bad. i think this was the first real dud ds9 gave us (i'm not counting the q one cuz that was basically a tng episode in disguise). i feel like it would be sooo easy to walk back some of the really awful elements of the ferengi but instead of doing that we have chosen to crank them up to 11. sexism, antisemitism, etc etc...

my other problem is that. and before anyone gets mad i have a touch of faceblindness. I CANNOT TELL THOSE FERENGI APART. they gave two of the ferengi the same nose and i was totally lost trying to follow the plot.

quark holding the idiot ball. he's dumb in his own way because everyone on that space station is using their last brain cell but he's also very shrewd. so it just felt off. and again odo had nothing to do except flirt with him but that's a me problem

BUGS FOR DINNER. i hated this episode in more ways than one

THAT SAID. we finally got to see o'brien again! and shockingly i really really really really liked the b plot

i did go blind with rage when nog got pulled out of school. yes. but the rest of it.

first of all it's really funny that jake is running around with nog all the time and their families are both going DON'T!!! and sisko is like Oh No My Son Has Discovered Girls when there is every evidence he is even now discovering boys

SECONDLY sisko reminding o'brien that one day his adorable little three year old will be 14 and the light leaving o'brien's eyes

but my favorite part is that jake wasn't being late to curfew because he's a bad kid or falling under a bad influence. he's a GOOD kid doing an AWESOME thing. idk, it was really sweet that like, even when sisko was like "yeah racism's bad but with ferengi it's different" jake was like "is it? :/" and then went right on teaching his buddy how to read. and now he's earned dad's permission to hang out with nog finally. it was a fun little subplot that i didn't realize was going anywhere and then it did. a very pleasant surprise and kept the episode from being a complete drag.

also, dax coming it and daintily sampling sisko's soup or whatever, then deftly getting rid of sisko so she could help herself to a giant heap lmao. queen

anyway, even though that's definitely been the worst ds9 ep so far, it wasn't NEARLY as bad as some of tng's duds. i'm thinking specifically of "code of honor," "violations," etc. like it could have been so much worse. i'm not going to delude myself into thinking we're past all the clunkers just yet, but i was still expecting a solid hour of agony and what i got was not that. not good by any means but not tng. whew!

TONIGHT: "starship mine" and "lessons" from tng. thots and prayers🙏

[hopelessrromantix]

where i've been

TLDR: Life sucks and so does the government. Half my family got hit with some pricey medical bills plus our normal rent, so donating or sharing this would be beyond appreciated.

I know you’re all thinking “Roman! You haven’t written anything in a month, what’s going on?” First, valid question. Second, dear GOD where do I start.

Let’s keep things simple. This past month has been the literal definition of hell for me. Everything started off fairly normal, until my two remaining grandparents started having frequent hospital trips. My father spent most of his time caring for them, living mostly at their house. Given that he works most in our house, he wasn’t having an easy time. He ended up developing what his doctor said was “stress tremors”, to the point that he went on disability.

Well, even after my grandparents were a bit more stable (though still on close watch)... they continued anyway. Eventually it got so bad my mother drove him to the hospital one night and what do you know, brain tumor.

Queue several days of our family wondering what the everloving fuck we’d do without my Dad. It was several days of my dear mother (note the sarcasm) trying to control everything, my brother trying to continue school, and me taking care of the house and our pets.

We got the scans back not long after and, cue sigh of relief, the tumor was benign. It still seemed to be draining the life out of my father, though. The nurses and doctors were absolutely floored because his tumor was absolutely huge but he had no headaches. Imagine a baseball in your head. Yeah, exactly. He did however stare at the wall for hours and had a hard time getting out more than a few words. It’s probably one of my most heartbreaking memories to watch the strongest person I’ve ever known reduced to a husk on a hospital bed.

Brain surgery came soon after. He made it through and is currently in recovery. He’s speaking actual sentences, though he’s still got tremors and needs a lot of help. Still, I’m just happy to have my father.

That same week, we noticed my cat acting off. We have two of them and my cat, Gallifrey, is a talkative sweetheart who’s attached to me at the hip. But he was meowing differently and acting weird and all around not normal. One vet visit later and we find out he has kidney disease and pancreatitis. He’s being treated for it (new food, possible meds, regular fluid injections, etc.), but he’s still not himself yet. Talk about my life falling apart. This on its own my family couldn’t even begin to afford. The government seems to hate disabled people and paying for numerous doctor’s visits wasn’t remotely in our paper thin budget, much less the meds and treatment.

It was a lot all at once, and not even close to what we expected. Gallifrey is only 7 and my father didn’t show the typical signs of a brain tumor. So, I guess the universe thought “Y’know, this is a perfect time to kick Roman in the fucking balls”.

Routine testosterone blood test, just monitoring… until I got a call from the doctor. Turns out I have some untreated issues that none of my previous doctors caught. In fact, the only reason she caught it was because it was so severe. According to her she was shocked I’m still up and kicking and not in the hospital for a blood transfusion. Apparently my red blood cell count and oxygen level is insanely low, and she asked me to take a Covid test (negative), so it turns out it’s a completely different issue. I’m still in the process of diagnosing it, so that was a fun little addition. With my chronic pain and my mother in denial, I sleep most of the day and am in constant pain the entire time.

I’ll be real, I’m not a fan of asking for money. It’s not something I like, but it’s something I have to do. The amount of treatment we need, my dad, Gallifrey, and me, is more than we can hope to afford on our salaries (thank you, American healthcare!). The medical process in this country is a joke.

I’m asking y’all to help me out. Sharing, donating, whatever. Everyone around me has been kind and supportive, and I'm beyond thankful for that. If you can’t donate, please send it, share it, do whatever, I'll take absolutely anything. If I’m honest? The number I’m asking still won’t cover it, but anything is helpful.

Thank you for reading this far, thank you for sharing, for donating, for being kind, for absolutely everything.

I also understand that the internet is a horrible, despicable place, so I can give any breakdowns of what the money would be used for and give any medical info (not releasing family names or locations) to provide proof. The page includes a lovely little x-ray of my father’s head so you get to see the absolute insanity. If this isn’t enough please let me know and I can link anything else needed to confirm that yes, I am actually having the worst time of my life.

All in all? Thank you.

Donate here if you can <3

[npcemi]

Welcome to my Meet Cute where Jason is a hopeless romantic whose inner voice is essentially a Jane Austen novel.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47612662/chapters/120002992

Jason was forced to dress up in a suit to attend a Wayne family gala for the Wayne Foundation scholarship. Jazz and Danny are scholarship students. Sam is forced by her parents to attend. Jason falls in love at first sight, sadly someone dressed like a spoiled trust fund brat is not Jazz's type.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. However, it is well known by those who know the Wayne family intimately, know that they exist in direct contradiction to this truth. Yet, those who attend these grand galas are so fixed on the idea that they are the pillars of this truth. Jason had come to find their shared delusion quite comical.

The mass appeal of allowing them such beliefs of a grandiose nature has made it so they can live their nightlife with ease. Even if it is nothing more than a fabrication. Bruce, the inevitable end of the man with a great fortune marked the start of a man of a generous heart with six children, five of whom were wards. A loving patriarch was a far more tasteful fabrication than that of a single bachelor with more adventurous tendencies.

Unfortunately being brought back into the fold meant that even as a rogue, Jason's presence would be required. In order to avoid the committee of vultures that is the Gotham socialite scene, Jason made his way toward the rear of the hall. Once he arrived at his destination after avoiding several greetings from overly ambitious social climbers, Jason found himself in the company of two rather odd individuals.

One, a young man, who if he was being honest with himself. Looks like a spitting image of Jason and the majority of his brothers. Jason really hoped this one does not come from a background comparable to his own or any of his siblings for that matter. Lest he has another sibling before the night is out.

The other is a young woman dressed in all black with bold black makeup and purple coloring on her lips. The two teens' mutual scowls of displeasure meant the three of them were of a similar opinion when it came to having their presence at the gala be forced upon them.

"I take it you two don't want to be here either?" Jason asks, watching the young woman begin to visibly shake with laughter. It's peculiar how the boy rolls his eyes as if Jason's intelligence was lacking for asking such a mundane and obvious question. If anything it shows him to have a rather crass and sardonic disposition. Jason was sure they could get along quite well.

"No, my parents dragged me here and I dragged Danny." The girl gestured to the boy, Danny, who nodded and voiced his descent only agreeing to come because of the intimate relationship between the two.

"Hey, we're in the same shitty boat. My adoptive dad made me come here too, the name's Jason." Jason said with a smile, happy he found some kindred spirits at this rather taxing spectacle. The girl introduces herself as Sam Manson. Having unfortunately grown up in these circles despite his rather humble beginnings. he has heard of the Manson family.

They are a family that is well known and has a humble fortune. One they owed to being descendants of the inventor of the deli toothpick cellophane-twirling device. They were more social climbers than committee vultures. Belonging to the group only by a small margin in comparison to the likes of the Wayne, Queen, Luthor, or Masters families. If Jason was being honest, the Mansons would fit in better with a group of mockingbirds, regardless of their own desires.

"Anything fun to do around here besides stand and talk?" Sam asked and Danny looked like he watched the last of the poor girl's brain cells leave her head.

"Sam, this is an event for rich fruit loops to kiss ass and your parents to try to find you a 'more appropriate' boyfriend." Jason couldn't help but snort at the way the boy mocked the elder Mansons. It was as unbecoming as it was necessary. It was well known the Mansons would consistently and continuously make an attempt to pair their daughter with any potential suitor. It doesn't surprise him that they would do so even when their daughter was clearly courting a boy the spitting image of any Wayne child.

Before Jason would be able to respond, a voice that sounded rather pleasant on the ear despite its exasperation, bellowed from nearby.

"Danny, Sam there you are, I have someone I need you to meet!" The woman had cerulean eyes and red-orange hair that fell to her shoulders like fine silk. She was in an emerald green dress that aggrandized her small athletic frame. However, any personal reverie Jason was engaged in was cut short by the woman and the man she had brought over for introductions.

"Danny, this is Bruce Wayne. He's the one who sponsors both of our scholarships." The girl was bright with glee not even noticing Jason's own downward turn. Something he was rather thankful for at the moment.

Bruce Wayne is as complex as he is simple. The mask of a loving patriarch, the mask of promiscuity, or the mask of the Bat. It never mattered because, in the end, no one knows which is Bruce's truth. It couldn't be the loving patriarch no matter the attempts to persuade otherwise. Those in the family knew his adventurous spirit had waned in the past years, now he preferred to spend his personal hours exclusively with Selina Kyle. If asked, Bruce would say it was the Bat that was his truest self, however, it didn't take a psychiatry degree and a stint at Arkham to know that the Bat was just another mask to hide his childhood traumas behind.

Bruce, Danny, and Sam all greet each other rather amicably. Though Danny whispers something hushed about being beholden to another rich froot loop who probably has a secret lair in his basement.

Jason's joyous laughter at Danny's correct assertion is cut off by a rather pointed glare from Bruce. It is however easy for Bruce and Jason to fall into a familiar rhythm as they do at these functions. They're able to maintain the facade of a happy family with polite conversation and occasional jabs. The woman, Danny, and Sam are surprised to learn Jason by all counts, is a Wayne. He was hopeful they can tell that he didn't quite fit with the usual Wayne pedigree. He denied the opportunity to encourage the notion when Bruce re-enforces the fabrication they used as coverage for their lesser-known activities. This is all in spite of what Jason was attempting to relay.

Jason never had the opportunity to correct such misconceptions. It was his fate to be cut off at the first utterance of his attempt by Mrs. Manson. Who decided that was the moment to come barreling into our conversation, much to the disdain of everyone in attendance.

“Sammy-Kins, I see you’ve met Bruce Wayne. Hello Mr. Wayne!” Her remarkable boldness and enthusiasm are truly something to behold, considering she found a way to strategically place herself so as to exclude Danny, the angel Jason had yet to know the name of, and himself from the conversation.

“Mrs. Manson It’s nice to see you, I’d love for you to meet my son Jason Todd-Wayne and two of the Wayne Scholarship students, Jasmine and Daniel Fenton.” Bruce repositioned himself, escorting the rest of us back into the engagement.

“Actually I go by Danny.”

“And I go by Jazz.” Jazz, that was this enchanting woman’s name. A woman who changed the very rhythm of Jason's heart. Whether that was for the best or not, will be an adventure all its own.

“I didn’t think Daniel had the grades for any scholarship, let alone one this prestigious.” Mrs. Manson tilted her head in an obvious slight on Danny’s intelligence. It is a shame the poor woman is under the delusion of her own over-estimated intellect. Any who managed to spend more than a few spare moments with the woman would see the fact clear as day.

“Oh my son Tim looked at Danny’s submission for aerospace engineering personally and was very impressed,” Bruce said with a smile that seemed to see through the slight the woman intended. The woman's scowl was soon becoming a source of joy, never in his life had he met someone so disagreeable and so desperate. Social climbers like her usually were better at being more subtle and significantly more polite.

“While grades do play a part, the Wayne Foundation is very understanding of exigent circumstances that may hinder a student’s grades,” Bruce added to the conversation. Bruce took great pride in his understanding and charitable reputation. This is one area Jason, unfortunately, can’t find fault in, after all, he was a common thief when he was taken in by Bruce.

“Well, that is very kind of you, Mr. Wayne. Sammy-Kins why don’t you and Jason go find a spot to talk, or maybe we can arrange another time you two can…” Bruce correctly guessed the group's collective discomfort with what Mrs. Manson was trying to accomplish.

“I’m sure my son can arrange his time how he sees fit Mrs. Manson,” Jason had to admit he was relieved that Bruce stepped in when needed. However, any future heroics on Bruce’s end when he received a notification on his phone. He gave Jason a familiar nod before making a quick exit. Mrs. Manson deterred from further advances by Bruce’s exodus from our conversation, also made her leave. Unfortunately, that meant Jason also had to take his leave. The other side of the Wayne family duality calling.

“I’m sorry to leave you guys hanging, but I gotta go, although before I clear out, Jazz, did you wanna grab coffee tomorrow, if you're still in Gotham that is?” Jazz’s sheepish reply to his advance was adorable as it was heartbreaking.

“I’m sorry I can’t.” In his heartbreak, Jason clearly lost any and all ability to form an intelligent thought. The only word that came out of his mouth was “oh.” Her brother took the opportunity to further his pain by rubbing salt in the crevice forming in Jason's heart.

“Sorry my dude, you’re just not her type. She’s into bad boys who wear leather Jackets, ride motorcycles, and are likely to commit a violent felony.” Sam continued Danny’s malice upon his emotions, “Jazz really isn’t into spoiled rich kids with daddy issues.”