#oh worm these photos are so nice

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 10:00 A.M 」

SUMMERRR @ohimsummer you’re so responsible for this infinitely adorable idea omg🤧 based on this ask & this video !

a part of gojo's love entries

“papa. come on. pa-pa~ say it after me!”

sunday morning. the first sight you saw after getting up was another shenanigan staged by your husband—

in the form of him shoving your humongous wedding photo in front of your one-year old boy’s face.

“this is pa-pa~” satoru’s singsong voice echoed through the baby room, full of enthusiasm, pointing at his face in the photo. “pa-pa~ easy right? now…”

your baby merely blinked though, chewing his pacifier in pure ignorance. his eyes—a pair blue marbles—glancing between his desperate papa and the wedding picture with little interest.

“hmph,” satoru clicked his tongue, and then he pointed at your beaming figure in the photo, voice visibly flat. “this is… mother.”

you quirked an eyebrow, totally snorting.

but he succeeded in grabbing your baby’s attention this time, as his crystal blue eyes widened a bit in wonder, staring at you in the picture.

“mother is pa-pa’s wife. she makes your food, nice on some days, but be careful! she can put a ban on our supply of mochi if she is in a bad mood!”

“oh, do i?” you walked over to him with a bark of a laugh, crossing your arms.

satoru made an exaggerated spooked look, mouth curving into an ‘O’. “uh-oh, mama dragon is here.”

“look, you big bully. why are you bothering our baby first thing in the morning?”

“i’m not bullying him! it’s education! he has to see that his papa is the gallant sorcerer—”

“—ma!”

. . .

silence. both of you stiffly turned towards your little munchkin when you heard that little, feeble sound.

your baby and his clear, watery eyes made a grabby motions towards you from his bouncer chair, lips wobbling with effort. “ma—ma!”

...another silence before you snapped—

“my baby!!” you squealed, immediately plucking him, giving and smothering him with the tightest hug and kisses, whereas satoru’s jaw dropped to the depths of soil behind you. “kyaaaa~! i love you soooo much!”

“h-how—!”

“i definitely didn’t go through the pain of giving birth to you so you can call your deadbeat papa first!”

“—?! hey! i’m fully responsible for child support!”

and so you left him in his sorrows, walking out while cooing at your bundle of joy, leaving trails of your baby son’s happy giggles along the way as your defeated husband, who felt so betrayed, sulked in the background.

epilogue

“come on… just once, please? say papa.”

this time, satoru has his baby son open a book beside him, as he points at the father figure in that storybook, still urging his mini-him to call him.

but contrary to his expectations, his little boy just aggressively turned the pages over, only seemingly interested in seeing the illustrations on each page.

“papa. come on, buddy, hmm?” he prodded his chubby arms and tickled his tummy, and once again, his prickly baby retorted with—

“ma! ma!”

satoru sighed in defeat, but this time he relented, as the way his son was all energetic while calling you somehow wormed its way to his heart too.

he was still babbling incoherently, and yet this time satoru only pinched his cheeks together. “you sure adore your mama, huh?”

“mwa!”

“yeah, me too, kiddo. me too.”

[steddielations]

Steve walks into utter chaos.

He was stopping by just to see Max, but all the increasingly concerning noise coming from the Munson’s trailer drew him over there instead. Worried that all the cursing and clattering would drown out any chance of a knock being heard, Steve lets himself in. 

Eddie doesn’t even notice him come inside, too busy scrambling around the complete wreck of a kitchen.

“Dude, are you cooking or just banging pots and pans together? I thought you were dying in here.”

Eddie squawks and jumps about a foot in the air. His hair is even more disheveled than usual, barely tied down with a bandana. He’s got flour splotches on his face and all over the frilly grandma apron he’s wearing (which Steve is definitely getting a photo of and showing Dustin later) along with a suspiciously sticky goo on his fingers.

“Stop laughing at me,” Eddie groans. 

“I’m not laughing,” Steve laughs, going to join him in the kitchen, “What are you doing, man?” 

“Well, I’m trying to bake Wayne a cake, but at this point, I might as well give him a frosting covered rock for his birthday,” Eddie sighs, frustrated hands scrubbing the flour off his apron, “I don’t know, man, usually I just get him another mug and a pack of smokes, and he’s never asked me for anything, but I’ve put him through hell this year I just wanted— I don’t know like, to do something special but I can’t even—”

“Alright, take it off.”

Steve folds his arms and waits while Eddie just gawks at him for a moment, cheeks reddening under the patches of flour.

“What?”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Eddie scoffs, starts muttering like he does when he’s nervous and Steve cracks a smile when he realizes why.

“The apron, Eddie,” he gestures, “Hand it over.” 

Another moment of confused staring and Eddie slowly gives it to him.

Steve wastes no time shaking out the flour and tying it around himself. He moves past Eddie, gets right to work clearing the mess and salvaging what ingredients he can.

“You…” Eddie peeks over Steve’s shoulder, “You know how to bake?”

“I can make a cake,” Steve shrugs, “Robin obsesses over shit sometimes, calls them her “little brain worms” or whatever. She couldn’t stop thinking about this cake she swore she had for her 5th birthday but couldn’t remember the flavor. So we made every cake recipe in her mom’s cookbook until we found the right one.”

“So Harrington’s got a secret Betty Crocker power-up, impressive.”

“Nah, just small stuff. I help Claudia with Dustin’s birthday cakes. Little shit is very particular about his red velvet.” 

Eddie snorts and Steve waves him over to start washing the dishes. He does so with a small salute that smears more flour on his forehead. The word cute comes to Steve’s mind but he just rolls his eyes. 

“So you dusted off your oven mitts for little old me, hm? I’m flattered.”

“Only because I like Wayne and I’d prefer if you didn’t give him food poisoning,” Steve teases, dumping out Eddie’s abomination of batter into the trash. Though he softens when he sees the way Eddie winces at it. “And I think it’s nice, you know, you doing this for him. I wanna help.”

Eddie clearly holds back a smile, looking down at the bubbles in the sink, and the cute word comes back to Steve’s mind.

“Okay well, take it easy on me. Not everyone has a bunch of mom friends teaching them to bake.” 

“Oh yeah, then where’d you get this grandma apron? You just had this little number in the closet with your leather and chains?”

“No, it’s Mrs. Bennet’s and she’s not my friend,” Eddie bristles and Steve senses a hell of a backstory there, “I stole it off her clothesline.” 

Steve laughs and makes Eddie tell him the whole story, all the inner workings of Forest Hills feuds. It’s nice, Steve’s been spending more time here since everything, listening to Eddie’s stories and sharing his own. It’s easy to be around Eddie, even though that pesky word won’t get out of Steve’s head.

Once the batter is finished, Steve dips a finger in to test.

“How does it taste?” Eddie asks, “Better than mine I hope.”

Steve hums around his finger, “So good, here taste,” he meant to slide Eddie the bowl, but the wires must’ve gotten crossed somewhere, because now he’s holding out a dollop of cake batter on the tip of his finger to Eddie’s mouth. 

They both look down at it, then at each other again. Steve knows he should apologize, drop his hand and say it was a mistake but there’s something about the way Eddie’s looking at him, the way he subtly licks his lips is almost like— He wants this. 

So Steve lets him have it.

Eddie leans in, keeps his hands at his sides and slowly guides himself down on Steve’s finger. His eyes fall shut as his mouth closes around it, like it’s too much, watching Steve watching him. It’s a lot for Steve too, the wet warmth of Eddie’s mouth, one swirl of his tongue almost makes Steve’s knees buckle. 

Something comes over him, he presses his finger down just slightly, feeling Eddie’s tongue curl around the tip. It elicits a soft noise from Eddie that sends heat thrumming all through Steve. Eddie’s eyes flutter open, brows turned upwards and mouth in a plush little O around Steve’s finger, looking up at him through dark lashes, a dot of flour on his nose. The sight makes Steve’s breath catch in his throat. It’s fucking cute and hot.

Steve has to swallow his own noise when Eddie pulls off. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, a slight grin on his lips, “Really good.” 

Steve’s about to do something crazy, put his finger back in Eddie’s mouth, maybe more than one this time, or just his lips on Eddie's, maybe even slip his tongue inside instead of his fingers, lick all that sweetness away until he just tastes Eddie, something— but a sudden loud knock on the door has him dropping his hand like it’s made of cement.

It’s Max, wanting to know why Steve ditched her for Eddie. She comes inside to ‘help’ which means she leans against the counter, talks about her day, complains, teases Steve and makes fun of Eddie for being demoted to dish duty. 

Steve puts the cake in the oven and focuses on cleaning and composing himself. He can feel Eddie trying to meet his gaze, trying to see if Steve's going to freak out on him after that. Once Steve can look at him without feeling like he’s going to burst into flames, he gives Eddie a small reassuring smile, even throws him a wink when Max isn’t looking. Eddie gives him a smile back.

And later, after Wayne comes home and they sing happy birthday and eat the cake that Steve insists Eddie helped him with— Just the tasting part, Steve says and revels in how Eddie covers a blush with his hair— and after they walk Max home, Steve pulls Eddie behind the trailer and kisses him until he doesn’t taste like cake anymore.

for the prompts "You heard me. Take. It. Off." and "Stop laughing at me" for @highkingpenny and anon, thank you and I hope you enjoy this!!

[fraugwinska]

In reference to Going with the Times: we are getting ready to go to a club with Angel only for Alastor to intervene when he recognizes our “dancing boots”

He couldn’t let us go out dressed so scandalously modern (the horror), so he distracts us

I somehow grew fond of this pairing - so hell yeah, let's do it ;>

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Goody-Two-Shoes

The knock on the door came at the worst timing ever.

You were almost finished, one of the tight, skin-hugging black overknee boots Angel lent you on your left leg, secure and safe. The other one however put up a fight. Inch by inch you had wiggled and wormed your leg down the shaft, cursing under your breath. Your foot was almost down to the heel, but all the work and struggle with this damn fabric made you break into a sweat, resulting in even more friction to overcome.

“Ugh, come on you god-damn, stupid, fucking... COME IN!”, you stuttered, violently pulling at the top of the boots it made you lose your balance. The door opened, and while you fell you could see a very surprised looking radio demon in the door frame before your ass hit the ground and your back bumped against your dresser.

Alastor rushed to your side, reaching his hand out to your groaning figure.

“Oh, my dear, normally I sweep ladies off their feet after I enter a room.”, he joked, pulling you back up. You didn't dare to let go of his hand, still wobbly from the ill-fitting left boot and the pain in your back from the impact.

“Hilarious, Al, really nice to pull my leg like that when I'm hurtin'. Ouch...”, you grumble, rubbing your sore behind. He chuckled at your little quip but led you carefully to your bed, where you sat down, sighing. Only then did he recognize the very thing that had you in such a struggle. His brow rose, his face displaying a dangerously condescending expression.

“May I ask why you are binding yourself in these... atrosities?”

Ignoring the throbbing pain in your back, you returned to pulling the unruly shaft up your leg again.

“They... are... overknees...”, with another hard tug, your heel finally slipped through. You sighed with relief and brushed your sweaty fringe out of your face. “Angel invited me to go to a club with him and Cherri, and he lent me these!”

You stretched out your legs and tapped your heels together, grinning at him. “They look just like the ones in the photo, right?”

“Indeed.”, he said, but even though he didn't lose his smile, his eyes traveled from your heels over your legs and the seams of the boots to the bare skin of your thighs, only broken by your shimmering hot pants. “And just as outrageous.” Alastor tilted his head, eyes narrowed. “You do not intend to wear this in public, do you, darling?”

“After spending half an hour just putting those on? Of course I do.”

His disbelieving look made you laugh. It was a never-ending discussion between you two, a tug-and-pull between your sometimes vastly different opinions of modernity. You often fought with him, always in good nature, and everyone in the hotel was convinced you had a golden tongue for how often Alastor let you win these arguments.

Alastor hummed thoughtfully, brows furrowed and staring at the crushed black leather. You were already moving to stand up when his hand suddenly grabbed one of your ankles and he pulled your foot up, making you fall onto your back into your mattress.

“Hey!”

“Half an hour, you say?”, his eyes glimmered with impish mischief. “So much effort, just for the meager fun of catching the eye of a lowly, no-name sinner in a dance club? You can do so much better than that, my sweet.”

He hooked a claw under the seam of your boot, leg still up in his firm grip, and you watched with anger and confusion as he slowly pulled the fabric down. “AL! Stooooop, I'll never get them up again.”, you whined, hands reaching out to stop him but he shifted his weight, puling your leg even higher while he turned his body, kneeling – no, towering - over you. He rested your ankle between his shoulder and his cheek, eyes still fixated on you as his other hand joined the already working hand in his efforts to get you out of the tight sleve of your shoe. It looked.... sinful almost, oddly hot, and the way his eyes burned into yours made you 1. shut up and 2. flush in deepest magenta.

“Why searching for the companionship of strangers, dressed in such a mundane way, when one could keep the company of a dear friend who doesn't care about what you'll wear?”

He gripped the heel and pulled the loosened sleeve off in one, swift motion. You gulped, the atmosphere had shifted to something other than playful banter. He seemed almost seductive, the way his voice lost most of his standard radio filter, reducing into a dark whisper.

“I.. um.. “, you said eloquently when a sudden, loud “HOLY SHIT!” made both of your heads turn. Angel looked like he'd just seen a naked, tap dancing James Dean, he was beet-red (likely rivaling your own color), dressed up to the nines in fur and latex and his mouth stood wide agape.

“Y-You know what, toots, I, um, You... fuck, yeah, you'll take a rain check, seems like you are otherwise... Yeah. See 'ya!”, the spider stuttered, completely floored at this display, backing out slowly and slamming the door shut.

You covered your face with your hands – tomorrow the whole hotel will know about this.

“I guess I won't go out tonight.”, you mumble, embarassed. You tried to sit up, but Alastors sly smile didn't fade as he let your now undressed leg slide down and began to slip the other shoe off.

“Don't worry, darling, I'll make sure you'll have fun anyways.”

[vgilantee]

🥵 you and glossy 🥵

Sooo.. when did John finally get them into bed?

glossy @glossysoap indulges me and my worms too often <3 and always comes in with her own like !!! ty babyyyy

~✧

john gets his hands on johnny first.

stuck in a safe house with just each other, waiting on exfil but weather makes it almost impossible to covertly get them out. so they have to wait. it only takes a couple days before the tension becomes too much and they snap.

“you have fun with it?” john asks, smoking out the open window.

“fun with..?” in johnny’s defence, he’s not good with sitting still waiting when there isn’t a target. he’s excellent when there’s a goal, a mission, a mark. but just sitting, waiting in a tiny cabin in buttfuck nowhere? he’s antsy.

“m’ cock.” he says it so casually johnny chokes on his own spit.

“i, uh… yeah. bon cried so pretty. and i dinnae think i’ve ever been stretched so nice.”

“hm. want t’ have a go with the real thing?” johnny thinks his having hallucinations. no way his captain just offered to fuck him. it was one thing to gift you both a mould of his cock, it was one other thing to send a photo of himself covered in his own cum after clearly jerking off to johnny fucking you with it. it’s another entirely to offer… that. “yes or no sergeant?”

“yes.” it’s almost pathetic how johnny whines as he clamours to his feet, john’s finger crooking to summon him over.

“your cunt looked so pretty takin’ the silicone, bet it feels like heaven around my cock.”

it doesn’t take long for johnny to have his pants and boxers thrown elsewhere in the room and be bent over the arm of the dingy sofa, wet, puffy cunt presented for john while his little cock twitches.

john knows that johnny can take his cock, watched the video of you taking him apart on it god knows how many times, but he still wants to have his sergeant cum on his fingers first. wants to feel just how warm and wet johnny’s pussy can get before giving soap what he desperately wants.

when he finally, finally, sinks into johnny’s cunt, he almost collapses forward. it had been too long since he’d had a warm pussy around him, and soap’s flutters and clenches around the thick length as it verges on overstimulation.

john can’t help himself as he bottoms out over and over again, fucking into johnny at a bruising pace, punching his cervix every time. but it’s clear soap doesn’t mind at all, not with the way he keeps reaching back to scratch at the captain’s thighs while moaning out thank you’s between his swearing and whining.

they both shudder as john fills soap’s cunt, pelvis flush against his ass to keep him full for as long as possible. john clumsily reaches for his phone, taking a slightly graining video of the way johnny’s cunt stretches over john’s cunt, fluttering once he’s pulled out and forces cum to dribble out.

when you watch the way john swipes at johnny’s cunt from clit to hole before pushing the cum back in, listening to john rumble out “don’t waste it”, you can’t help the “oh fuck” you whisper out.

~✧

john goes with johnny to your little home when they finally get back, inviting himself while johnny was between his thighs, cock too far down his throat for soap to argue.

you get no warning, only expecting johnny to walk through the door while you move around in only one of his shirts and a pair of panties. despite the fact that john has already seen everything, you still squeak and pull the front of the shirt down between your legs.

“sorry for intruding without warning, love.”

“oh! it’s- it’s okay john.” you wave him off with one hand, the other trying to keep the shirt in place. “i can make some food for you both if you give me a minute to put some pants on.”

“no need, sweetheart. if it’s okay with you, i’d much prefer you take them off so i can have a proper meal.”

you’re lucky to make it to the bedroom with how desperate they both are to have you naked. soft and warm. john makes you squirt on his fingers while he and johnny alternate between eating you out and making out with each other, making a mess of spit and slick

[fir3ylolol]

sleepless in seattle

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: johnny's been filming a new movie, which means you haven't seen him much lately. but he shows up at your door, half asleep and about to fall over

a/n: fluffffff! it's fun to mix it up and not write smut all the time lol. hope yall like this little taste of cute

word count: 909

Ao3

You watch your phone as it lights up on the arm of your couch. You pick it up to see Johnny’s familiar contact photo, a selfie of the two of you at his last movie premiere. You feel bittersweet. It’s been a long time since you guys hung out. He’s been really busy filming for his newest movie, which requires most of his time lately. He took a directorial position, as well as producer and main actor. It’s a lot, but it was his dream opportunity, and he couldn’t pass it up. His text is letting you know that he just got off work and was headed home. It was 11 pm, and you know he got there at 5 am. You felt bad, wishing you could help him more and be there for him. But you send a quick “drive safe, i love you, i miss you” before setting your phone back down to continue getting ready for bed.

It’s been about 10 minutes, as you getting settled in bed. But you suddenly hear a knock at the door, so light you get scared. You slowly walk over, looking through the peephole nervously. But your nerves are immediately eased, seeing Johnny standing there, slightly swaying back and forth. You open the door, ready to welcome him in after missing him for so long. But he stumbles in, falling forward onto you. You brace yourself, holding him up with all your might. “Hi love, you ok?” You quietly say as you strain against him. But he starts his stumbles again, walking to your bedroom with dragging feet. As you lock your door, you start feeling worried again. Not of what’s outside, but of how overworked he was taking this project on. But you shake it off, grab a glass of water, and walk into the bedroom. And there he was, splayed out on the bed, already half asleep. You sigh, setting down the glass and crouching down. One by one, you help him get comfortable, removing his shoes, socks, pants, and shirt. The last of which requires you to flip him over a bit, which you manage to do with little effort.

But you climb onto the bed to your usual spot, and Johnny pulls himself behind you, shuffling over to your side. He latches himself to you, both arms around you and one leg over you. He gets cold very easily, and the lack of clothes certainly isn’t helping. You are well and truly trapped under him, but it’s nice. Warm. You wiggle an arm out and play with his hair, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. “Long day?” He nods, holding you closer. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. You know, my day hasn’t been that good either…” Before you realize it, you’ve been talking about your day for a very long time. The good, the bad, even just what you had to eat.

You look down to see his bleary looking up at you, struggling to stay open. “Oh Johnny, I’m sorry, did I keep you up?” He smiles, nuzzling into you, “Maybe, but it’s nice. Comforting.” You kiss the top of his head, and he hums happily. You continue talking, but whispering this time, smoothing down his hair and holding him tight. You watch as he slowly falls asleep, breathing heavily and grasp on you going limp. You take a minute just to look at him, uncharacteristically dark eye bags and disheveled hair. He looks so unlike himself, that you know he needed this. You fall asleep shortly after him, his presence is comforting.

You open your eyes as the sunlight hits them directly. You rub your eyes and look at Johnny, who is surprisingly still asleep. He tends to be a morning person, but as you turn to grab your phone, you see that it’s 10 a.m. He’s slept for nearly 12 hours now, and you don’t want to wake him yet. He needs as much sleep as he can get. So you worm your way out of his grasp slowly, pausing each time he takes a deeper breath. You make your way into the kitchen, starting to make some eggs and sausage. As you pour a cup of coffee, you see a blanketed form shuffling in, sniffling and yawning. “Good morning love, sleep good?” You place a plate in front of him and kiss the top of his head. He smiles up at you sleepily, managing to croak out, “Yeah, I slept good with you there. You’re really comfy, you know?” You sit next to him, taking a sip of your coffee, “I try my hardest to be. Do you have to work again today?” He groans through his bite of eggs, “Ugh, don’t bring it up. I have to be there at 9.” You choke on your coffee, looking at him sheepishly, “It’s…already past 10. I’m sorry, you looked so peaceful!” He pauses, face blank, before placing his head on the table with another groan. He picks his head back up, a wide smile on his face, “Ok, then I’m here today.” You look at him confused, trying to figure out what he meant. “I’m not going in, it’s too late, they’ve probably already sent everyone home. So, what do you wanna do?” You smile, kissing his cheek and whispering in his ear, “Wanna stay home all day and watch movies?” He smiles back at you, kissing your lips. “Fuck yes.”

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 18)

au masterlist

notes: this is short but i needed it out and i’ve been much too busy to write lately and i’m running on very little sleep and can barely keep my eyes open

y/ndevils00

liked by jackhughes, ehaula, and 428,715 others

y/ndevils00 we’re not back

we are SO not back.

but you know who IS back?! MY SEXY ASS, 22 POINT HAVING, COMEBACK GOAL SCORING, SNACK STEALING BOYFRIEND!!

despite the unfortunate 5-3 loss against the dish rags, we did get a few good goals tonight, starting with one from everyone’s favorite previously injured man, JACK ROWDEN HUGHES!!!

babygirl also assisted on Uncle Haula-hoop’s goal (the third and final Devils goal)! and in between those goals, Pally pocket got a goal!!

however, towards the end of first, we were down by one, and despite my strongly worded advisory, coach bark pulled my main man Vitek and let the rags score an empty netter….

anyways! bestie number 1 was wrongfully accused and jailed in the second— his crime? his flow was too nice. not very jail worthy, but the bald bitch from the other team had it out for him.

goodnight and please enjoy the last couple photos i took of my sassy boy toy during his post-game interview where he couldn’t keep his eyes off me— can’t say i blame him 🤭

tagged jackhughes, pally_18, ehaula, and dawson1417

Load more comments

user93 the red m&m in the 3rd pic is sending me 😭

y/ndevils00 give him some respect! he assisted on that goal!

jackhughes i didn’t realize you were saving the cheez-its!

y/ndevils00 they were my work snack! i need food in order to keep my energy to run around the arena!

jackhughes i give you $30 before every game for you to buy snacks??

y/ndevils00 i prefer to use that money for drinky drinks

lhughes_06 that explains so much

dawson1417 he can’t have my hair!

y/ndevils00 baldy should’ve thought about his flow before he shaved his head! i’ll protect your hair!

john.marino97 and how will you do that?

y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 the same way i get rid of all the men in my dm’s— beat ‘em off with a stick!

jackhughes MEN IN YOUR DM’S????

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes oh don’t act so surprised! i’m a catch and everyone knows it!

trevorzegras @/jackhughes damn dude, better get a move on with ‘plan alpha-alpha’ before someone snatches up your girl

user66 i love the jack-centric posts! y/n feeds us 🙏

ehaula did you know there’s other players on the team besides your boyfriend?

y/ndevils00 did you know i don’t care about anyone else?

ehaula trust me, i can tell

y/ndevils00 then why are you asking stupid questions you already know the answer to?

ehaula i’m disowning you

y/ndevils00 you can’t do that!

ehaula pretty sure i can!

y/ndevils00 nuh-uh! tell him @/kristen.haula

kristen.haula you can’t disown our niece, Erik!

y/ndevils00 TOLD YOU! NA-NA-NA BOO BOO!

ehaula i can’t believe you’ve wormed your way into my family and won’t leave

dawson1417 yeah, that’s what happens

john.marino97 my mom calls her the daughter she never had

john.marino97 excuse me, where am i?!

y/ndevils00 idk, your couch?

john.marino97 IN THE POST! where am i IN THE POST!

y/ndevils00 oh, you got no points. do better and maybe you’ll be featured

john.marino97 i tried!

y/ndevils00 so try harder?? idk what to tell you

john.marino97 why am i friends with you

y/ndevils00 because i’m hot and funny and smart?

john.marino97 no, that’s not it

user20 poor dawson in the box 😭

_quinnhughes i’ve missed your chaotic energy! can’t wait to see you soon, Dove!!

y/ndevils00 aww! so excited to see you soon huggy! 🥹🤍

jackhughes not once have you said you can’t wait to see me?

lhughes_06 you’ll see your brothers too??

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes @/lhughes_06 okay?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes @/lhughes_06 i’m lost on what that has to do with me?

lhughes_06 NOTHING! it has NOTHING to do with you!

y/ndevils00 @/lhughes_06 yeah, so it’s irrelevant

nicohischier i hate not playing, but i won’t lie, i love not being on these posts

y/ndevils00 it’s only a matter of time, captain slut!

[sparta369]

Hey yall! In the spirit of having a safe and stress-free April Fools day, today I've curated a list of 18 different relatively harmless pranks that you can pull on your friends today! I thought of all of these myself, so please enjoy! :o)

1: You can send them a message saying something like "Hey! I bet you thought this notification was gonna be an april fools joke, but in reality, I just wanted to let you know that I love and appreciate you, and that I hope you have a nice day!"

2: Obtain a small, but noticeably out-of-place object (rubber duck, kazoo, etc.) and leave it somewhere you know your friend will see it, just to confuse them a little bit. Optionally, you could attach a little message to the object, letting them know it was you :)

3: Understandably, hiding your friend's belongings can be very distressing for them. Instead, hide one of your own belongings and ask them to help you look! Let them find the object. For bonus points, leave a kind message attached to the object for them to find.

4: Just simply hand them a random object. Don't hide whatever is in your hands, make it clear what you're handing them. Just ask them "hey, can you hold this for a sec?" and when they take it, just walk away.

5: Underneath everything they post on social media that day, leave a reply saying something along the lines of "I love and appreciate you" or some other nice thing. Do not stop. Be relentless.

6: Stop them when you're walking near/past each other. pretend to pull a hair/fuzzy/etc out of their hair, off their shirt, etc. Do this slightly more frequently that it normally happens. Don't make a huge deal out of it. Admit it if pressed or at the end of the day.

7: To expand on the previous one, you could instead pretend to pull a fuzzy/hair/etc off of them... and then pretend to eat it.

8: Leave out pieces of their favorite candy or other small, packaged snack in any place you believe they'll run into it throughout the day.

9: Order a pizza with them. Make the pizza half something they like, half something you like. When it gets here, pretend to get huffy about the toppings being on the wrong sides. (X should be on the left, Y should be on the right, etc.)

10: Spontaneously pretend that you have lost something. When your friend asks what you lost & if they can help you search, point at them, sigh in relief, and say something along the lines of "oh good, you're right there, I thought I'd lost my whole world."

11: Tell them that you're going to the store to get something mundane and uninteresting. Instead, go out and purchase your friend a surprise gift. This can be an object, food, anything. Pray they don't ask you to pick something up for them.

12: Take a photo of yourself and print it out. tape up behind a door that you know they will close, such as their bedroom door or a bathroom door. For bonus points, leave a nice message with it.

13: Hang a worm on a string or other silly item from the blades of their ceiling fan. Don't tie them on too well, make sure they're easy to remove.

14: Every time they sneeze, cough, or anything like that, pretend to be disproportionately worried about them. Use this as an excuse to do nice things for them throughout the day.

15: Gearing up to go out somewhere with them? ask if you can borrow one of their shoes. That's right, only one.

16: Ask them if they can leave you alone in the kitchen for a while. Make it clear that you are preparing an April Fools prank for them. The prank is, instead of making anything weird, you just made completely normal food for them. Comply with their requests for proof.

17: Make a paper sign that says something incredibly nice, like "I appreciate you." Keep it with you. Whenever your friend looks away from you, try to quietly extract the sign and show it off in their general direction. Try not to get caught until the end of the night.

18: Ending our list, you could show this list to your friend, and then make them put together the first letter of each prank that I've just listed for you.

I hope you all have a nice, safe, and stress-free April Fools Day!

;o)

[aquaticwolfkuri]

You HATE Me, But I Hate YOU More: ch.8

Smothered with love, his dad essays him a million questions before finally giving him the keys to the family car. Finally, Dib is able to drive him and Gaz to Zim’s house and park out front. He gets out to ring Zim’s doorbell.

He could faintly hear Zim and Gir from behind the door, and the alien didn't sound particularly pleased. Finally, the door opens.

Considering most of Zim’s disguises, Dib could only pray that his prom outfit wouldn't be so bad.

Dib faintly blushes when he sees the alien dressed in a purple blazer with white cuffs and a pink bowtie. It was… kind of cute to see. The wig and contacts of course were the same.

“Dib-worm, I am… ready for our MISSION,” Zim says, his cheeks slightly flushed when he sees Dib in suspenders and slacks with a necktie and a black suit jacket.

“Mission? Right, um… I know you would prefer your Voot cruiser, but we're going to be using my dad's car.” Dib says before opening the car door for Zim. The alien looks at him suspiciously before stepping into the vehicle, annoyed and maybe even embarrassed when Gir and Minimoose step outside to tell him bye, taking pictures of him in the car with Dib.

“So… uh, any new plans to conquer Earth with?” Dib asks, and Zim crosses his arms.

“Ha! As if I would tell YOU my evil plan”

“Does it have anything to do with being prom king?” He asks, hoping Zim won't ruin this night for everyone… though, maybe it would take his mind of a few things.

“Guess all you want DIB, but you wouldn't be able to stop me, even if I DID tell you my plan!” Zim says before laughing. Dib sighs, but somehow… It feels nice and makes him feel nostalgic for the old days… Zim on the other hand, didn't see a point in such memories. Dib was annoying  when he was 12 and he was still annoying at 17, if not more so.

They finally arrive at their High Skool, but when they step inside… Zim is immediately repulsed by the loud music, the horrible lights, and seeing all the pathetic and disgusting Urthlings dancing.

“I told Dad this was a bad idea…” Gaz says.

“Maybe it won't be so bad?” Dib tries to reassure his sister.

“This is HORRIBLE!!” Zim declares.

Dib is about to say something, but across from them dancing in the crowd was Plotty. Her hair was tied up into a ponytail, wearing a silver dress… She was beautiful, and thinking about her being with someone else upset him, but it upset him more, knowing that Zim ruined his chance with her tonight, and now he had come to prom WITH Zim. He felt frustrated just thinking about it, but when he looked back at Zim…he just couldn't stay mad at him, because now he knew why Zim had come in between him and Plotty… What was he supposed to do? How is he supposed to feel?

“Why don’t you two go get your picture taken…?” Gaz suggests, pointing towards the small photo shoot near the door entrance. “I’m sure dad is hoping for pictures to put in his photo album”

“What!? No way! The only photos I want with Zim are of me exposing him…!” Dib crosses his arms.

“Photos with the Dib??? You must be out of your MIND!!” Regardless of Zim and Dib’s protest, Gaz drags them over, getting them to take a begrudging photo standing together. It was anything but cute or romantic, but she knew her dad would appreciate it either way.

“And when Does Zim get to become…PROM-king??” Zim asks, and Dib can tell immediately that the alien was up to no good.

“Zim, you only get to be prom king if everyone votes for you during couples dance” Dib says, and this seems to confuse the alien.

Zim wasn't familiar with the concept of COUPLES nor did he like the idea of dancing.

“Zim refused to dance!”

“Oh come on, I've seen you and your little robot dance before”

“LIES!! Zim would never!” Dib rolls his eyes at this answer and looks away… and he sees Plotty again.

“Yeah, your right … I guess the great and mighty Invader Zim can't dance. I knew you could never be prom king” Dib says, and Zim glares, hissing.

“HOW DARE YOU INSULT ME!! ZIM IS THE GREATEST DANCER!!” 

“Then prove it, space boy!” Dib taunts.

“V-Very well, you shall see just how great Zim is…!” With a small blush on his face, Zim hesitantly takes the hand that Dib had offered him and the two begin to dance around together. Zim stumbles a bit before he’s able to follow Dib's movements… but feeling the human's much warmer hands holding his own… made his stomach squirm and his chest ache.

Even weirder was that the two started to have fun together, though they would never admit it. Gaz watched, snapping a few photos with her phone.

“He should just be with Zim… He can be himself around Zim…” Gaz says to herself, before looking back down at her game.

While dancing, Zim’s pack suddenly begins to light up, notifying him of an incoming transmission. He shoves Dib aside and quickly excuses himself before he heads out into the Skool hall where there wasn’t anyone around before he can finally answer the call.

“G-Greetings my Tallest!” Zim didn’t expect his leaders to call him so suddenly, especially while he was at his human Skool.

“Greetings Invader Zim. We uh… have a VERY important mission for you” Red says.

“Yeah, VERY important” purple affirms.

“A mission?? For ME?? Of course my Tallest! I will take on any mission required of me!” Zim says confidently.

“Good, good… Then we need you to leave Urth and return to us Zim. You might be gone a while” Red explains, and Zim suddenly finds himself feeling anxious about the idea.

“L-Leave Urth? But-”

“This is important Zim. The entire Urken empire is in great danger, and only YOU can save us.” This seems to convince Zim.

“ME!? Yes my Tallest, I will not fail you! Invader Zim, signing off.” Zim ends the call, and leaves the Skool building without a second thought, heading back to his base to pack up.

“Girl! Minimoose! The Tallest have give me an answer important mission! We must leave at once!” Zim says and Gir just screams joyfully. Minimoose just helps Gir pack up.

Once the entire house is emptied and entirely removed along with the underground lab, they fly off in the Voot Cruiser.

“Now back to-” Before Zim can finish, he sees the photo of him and Dib that Gir had taken, sitting on his dashboard…

Searching around the Skool building, Gaz and Dib can't find the alien anywhere. He should have been back hours ago from the bathroom, but he wasn't anywhere to be found.

“Did he seriously just ditch us??” Dib should have known. Zim ALWAYS has to pull some shit. He can never just let things be.

“Dib-” Before Gaz couldn't finish, her and Dib could hear screaming coming from the court room where the dance was being held. Gaz and Dib rush over, only to see a hole in the ceiling and other students panicking and freaking out.

“What happened!?” Dib asks.

“A-A weird green dog came down and left a not for you before leaving with a big sack” A student says.

Green dog, a note for him; it couldn't be anyone other than Zim and his weird robot. The student hands Dib the note, and reads the following.

“Don't think you've won DIB, I will return and conquer the Urth!! love ZIM!!” What did he mean…? Did Zim… just leave earth?

“Zim you piece of shit!!!”

[goodeapple]

be nice to your neighbors.

i have a million and two wip's in my Ysilla folder and somehow, i have to add one more.

i am an exhausting person. love y'all lots!

pairing : Aemond x Ysilla (Rhaenyra'sDaughter!OC)

warnings : Aemond is a simp & Ysilla is a plant nerd. Awkward flirting. Fluff. No smut :(

word count : 2,500+

It’s so fucking early. What self-respecting tattoo shop is open at 7AM on a Sunday? On God’s day? Aegon hasn’t stepped foot in a church since he was thirteen which explains the hours, but why the fuck is Aemond here and not him?

Aemond wasn’t exactly planning on going to church today, but maybe if he had the option, his arse would be in a pew next to his mother right now instead of perfecting a sketch for an appointment that isn’t even until next week.

His Americano is lukewarm, steam long blown away by the small oscillating fan tucked up on a high shelf. A row of overstuffed books, on everything from Classic Americana design to Valyrian legends he wants to detail on paper, fill up the rest of the ledge. The next one down houses a line of knick knacks he could never force himself to part with- a tiny tacky snowglobe from Harrenhal, his grandfather’s Hand of the King pin from when he was in the courts, 8-tracks from his mum’s rebellious punk phase before she went to college, and at the end, a framed photo of him and his siblings the day they opened the shop. Three identical terrified grins are spread over their faces, nervous anticipation bleeding through the black-and-white snapshot. Little pieces of his life in his little corner of the world, where he gets to do what he loves. 

And the most important little worm to him sleeps the day away in her glass vivarium by the door. Vhagar lounges under her UV bulb, baking on a large smooth stone after inhaling her breakfast. His little crocodile without the teeth. The soft garden green bearded dragon with her yellow belly has been his constant companion since he rescued her from a Oldtown pet shop when he was a pre-teen. He hid her under his bed for a full seven months before his mum found her one day when she was searching for missing socks. It was an impressive feat, one she even had to acknowledge after blowing her fucking top. 

Aemond darkens the curve of the kraken tentacle he’s sketching, a piece for a client coming all the way from the Iron Isles. The little suction cups still need more depth and he hasn’t even begun to flesh out the texture of the skin yet when the bell hanging above the shop door tinkles, signifying an end to his blissful solitude. 

“Hello? Helaena, you here?” 

Aemond drops his pencil, shoving off from his desk, grumbling as he goes. There’s still a hint of sleep in his eye and he rubs it away as he walks up the hall to the lobby. 

“We don’t take walk-in’s on the weekends and we don’t have any appointments scheduled ‘till 9. So, are you sight-seeing or are you just overly punctual?” He doesn’t mean to sound like a dick, it just comes second nature. 

The back of the head that greets him as he blinks open his eye is a pretty one, thick brunette curls pinned up with gold butterfly clips. The girl abandons the magazine she’d been leafing through, turning at the sound of his voice. The wide eyed look that’s spread over her face emphasizes plum-shaded irises, framed by palm leaf eyes. There’s a pair of beauty marks peppered on the dawn of her cheekbone. A rosy mocha mouth is pouted before it curves up into a charming bend of itself. 

“I’m sorry, I'm not here to get any work done. I was just coming in to give something to Helaena.” The woman shimmies the large gift bag held tight in her fist as proof. “I’m a friend.”

Aemond shrugs off his disappointment. “Oh, my bad.” She’d be a gorgeous canvas. The golden brown of her skin would take color like a fucking champ. Black would be even better, really make the contrast pop. The smooth peak of her shoulders from underneath the oversized cream cardigan she wears is a tantalizing taste of something he wants to indulge in. “She’s not here yet.”

Her expression collapses and Aemond regrets causing such a look to dim her face. “Oh damn, she told me she’d be in at this time.” 

Aemond thinks maybe he should call his big sister, considering he hasn’t received her standard “i’ll be there in 10, I PROMISE 10 MINUTES AEMMY!!” text today, when the girl’s face blooms into one of recognition.

“You’re Aemond, right?” 

“Uh, yeah- yes, yes I am.” He coughs, straightening up a bit, manners braided into every core memory he possesses. His mom, in Aegon’s terms, is a tightass but damn him if he doesn’t know how to treat a woman.

“I always see you coming in and out of here, and well, you and Hel and Aegon all look alike, so I put two and two together and made four that you’re the missing piece of Three Headed Dragon.”  She gestures to the air, implying she’s speaking about the name of the shop. The gold chains layered around her neck, some with pendants and some without, jingle with her movement. Aemond likes the softness of the sound.

“And when she came in for a succulent recommendation a few months back, I asked about you and she told me your name, and… yeahhh. I just didn’t want you to think I was some weirdo who’s been waiting for the perfect moment to get you alone.” 

“Oh no, I wouldn’t think that.” He makes himself look very serious, knitting his brows in a thick, no-nonsense line but he has to bite his lip to keep from snickering, which she notices. 

She breathes out a laugh, dipping her head in surrender. She turns to the entrance, and Aemond is worried she might leave. He doesn’t mind her company, which is a miracle considering the hour. 

“Hey-”

“Is this your’s?” She points to the hyperrealistic direwolf stencil he’d cranked out last year during an artist’s block that he couldn’t shake for the life of him. The piece is gruesome, wicked lines and keen edges that intimidate even him, and he drew the damn thing. 

“Uh, yeah. Good guess.” The black frames adorning the gallery wall are a mixture of his and Aegon’s work, all in varying shades of grays and blacks. His brother’s signature new school style is easily distinguishable to Aemond, but he admits some of their earlier sketches are more uniform than not.

“You do beautiful work.”

Aemond’s eyebrows raise and he lets the compliment warm him.

“I appreciate that. Many wouldn’t call that beautiful, but I think it has a certain magnetism to it.” He looks the woman over, using the excuse of actually searching for ink so that he can appreciate her willowy arms and the peek of shapely legs through the dash in her skirt. “Do you have any?” Aemond gestures to the wall, before gesturing to her.

She shakes her head, freeing an errant curl that falls over her forehead. Aemond picks at his joggers to keep his fingers from doing something stupid. 

“Oh no. I’m not the biggest fan of needles. Self-admittedly, I can also be a bit of a flake, so permanent artwork on my body kind of gives me hives.” She shivers and Aemond thinks her modesty is adorable.

“That’s a shame.” 

Mystery woman snaps her fingers, spinning on her toes to pin him with a look, and Aemond basks in the scent of jasmine and sea salt that wafts his way.

“If I change my mind, I know who to go to.”  She blinks suddenly, her pointed hand gliding behind her to rub at the back of neck in a bashful way. “That is, if you’d ever want to. Or, if you’re like, accepting clients.”

“For you? I think I could make an exception.” Aemond leans into the counter, settling to her level. The way the flush of her cheeks drips into the creamy sweep of her chest makes him hungry. She drops her hand, edging forward on timid toes.

“Well, aren’t you sweet.”

He doesn’t really know how to reply to that. He can feel the tips of his ears heat up, and when she tucks her lock of hair back in place, he wishes he would’ve done it for her. He can see a thin line of dark walnut bracing the white of her eyes with how close he is, so close now he can smell the cinnamon on her breath from the condensating chai latte she holds in her other hand. 

“Aemond!” The back door slams and his sister’s voice floats up the hall. 

“Fuckin’ A, sorry I’m late. I hit construction traffic and I had to get gas or I would’ve been pushing my Volksy here, and then I needed a coffee, believe me.” A white-blonde head of super short hair is unleashed when his sister yanks off her crocheted bucket hat, and she gasps as she catches sight of the shop’s first patron of the day.

“Good morning, muffin, I was trying to get here as fast as I could!” Helaena is a tornado of violets, lavenders, and magentas, purple her chosen color of the day as she spins into the room, tucking her backpack into the lockable cabinet by Aemond’s knees. 

The girl’s smile is a thing of beauty and even if it’s for Helaena, Aemond will keep it for himself. 

“Good morning, Hel. No worries, your brother’s been keeping me company.” 

Helaena spares him a look, sending a delicately sharp elbow right into his ribs. 

“Has he? It must be your lucky day- he usually scares off the customers that aren’t on the schedule.”

Aemond throws a sturdy blunt elbow into her shoulder and revels in the wince that she tries to hide. 

“Mmmm, not scared off yet. But if you would’ve given us a few more minutes, who knows?” A wink is sent his way, showing she means it in all good fun. Aemond fires a smile back at her, curling his lip up in a smirk he knows carries some weight to it. She swallows- he can see the jump in her throat, before she damn near flings her reason for coming in onto the counter.

“Here! She came in yesterday towards closing time, a special delivery just for you.” 

Hel snatches it with greedy hands, unknotting the twine laced through the handles so she can stick her whole face into the bag. 

“Oh my word, it's beautiful!” Helaena exclaims, wonderment turning her tone soft and breathy. Aemond can’t stunt his curiosity, knocking his sister’s head out of his way to peer into the gift bag. 

“It looks moldy.”

Mystery woman looks mildly offended by his assessment, but it’s his sister that thwacks him in the chest.

“Shut it! You and Aegon practically drowned my cactus when I went on holiday last summer; what do you know about plants? It’s stunning and wonderful and all mine!” Helaena pulls out the plant with careful hands, gathering up the trailing vines like she’s lassoing a rope. 

Hel oooo’s and ahhh’s , rubbing the silver spotted leaves between her fingers, smelling the somewhat heart-shaped sprouts for any lingering fragrance. Aemond’s surprised she doesn’t pop one in her mouth and give it a taste. 

“A cactus?” 

Aemond shrugs, happy to have the woman’s attention back on him, even if it is at his expense. “It looked thirsty.” 

The giggle she gifts him makes his 5AM alarm worth it. 

Helaena claps her hands together twice, calling attention to her like she’s a nursery school teacher. “Tell me about it- what’s its name and how do I keep it alive?” 

“It’s a Scindapsus pictus, but satin Pothos or silver Philodendron is easier to remember. Even though it’s not technically a Pothos or a Philodendron, it’s in the Araceae family, which can be confusing, y’know? It’s naturally from the Hills of Andalos but it can also be found from Tyrosh all the way to Pinkmaiden.” 

The siblings blink at her, both enjoying how she waxes on about something obviously interesting to her, even though it sounds like Dothraki to them. The brunette takes notice of their silence, tapering off her anecdotes while wearing a quiet, bemused grin.

“Anyways,” she twists the ring around her pinky in circles of nervous energy, “lots of light, water her like once a week, and she should thrive.”

“She’s perfect! Oh thank you for picking her out for me, darling. I’ll take such good care of her." Helaena has a way of hugging you with her words. It fills you with the warm and fuzzies, and the girl looks stuffed to the brim with them. She sighs though, shouldering the strap of her bag into place. 

“I gotta get back to the shop- my early lunch break can’t go past 7:20, or Miss Olenna will be pissed if I’m not there to let her windowshop the roses.” 

Helaena flutters around the counter, gushing promises of midday coffee dates and takeaway dinners before sweeping up the other girl in a rocking embrace.

The woman beams, happiness a good look on her, before pecking his sister’s cheek in parting. She pushes open the shop door, ducking out before catching it right before it closes. Her head pops back in, and the same stubborn curl from before has come loose again, twisting around the corner of her eye. 

“It was nice meeting you, Aemond.”  

“Likewise…” Did he not catch her name once the entire time? Fuck him and his so-called manners. 

Her smile is so bright, it burns itself behind his eyelids. “Ysilla.”

“Likewise, Ysilla.” Aemond rolls her name off of his tongue, discovering he quite likes the taste of her. A gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl. 

She bids him a little wave of her hand before shutting the door softly. She looks both ways before darting across the roadway and into roots., an aptly named nursery that bursts at the brick with vegetation and flowers. 

Aemond turns on his sister with alarming agility. 

“Alright, share with the class. Who was that?” 

“That’s Ysilla, Aem. Duh. She runs the plant shop across the street.” 

He resists the urge to flick her in the forehead. His trainers are new and he doesn’t want her size seven foot print scuffing them up. 

“I’ve never seen her before.”

“Well you would, if you ever bothered to come out of your room and meet our neighbors. She’s been in charge for about a year and a half now. Mr. Forel is an old flame of her gran’s, or something like that, and she needed a job when he was thinking of retiring. So, perfect timing, I guess.” Hel fluffs the leaves, turning the plant pot this way and that, trying to decide which angle is most appealing. She carts it around the shop, holding it up to the spaces she’s thinking of occupying it with. 

“What are you two, besties?” Aemond is so not jealous. Nah, never. Nope. No way, no how. 

Helaena pauses, looking thoughtful before resuming her decorating.

“I’m kind of trying to be, but she goes to class after she’s done at the shop and if she’s not doing that, she has three brothers she helps take care of when her mum is working. So I stop off when I can and chat with her so we can catch up.” 

Helaena cheers as she steps off the footstool she keeps around for high reaching access, admiring the vines cascading from the partition wall that divides the waiting room from her piercing studio. 

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” His sister is obviously speaking about the plant. 

Aemond stares through the window across the street, the tan stucco building a bright bustle of life next to the high brow boutique to its left and Hot Pie’s bakery to its right. The numerous hanging pots from the ledge above the doorway would 100% split his skull if he wasn’t paying attention to where he was walking. Big glass windows are crowded by giant emerald fronds and stalks of leafy sprouts. The flower pots mirroring each side of the doorway are starting to wilt with the season, but the vibrant highlights of color splash a last breath of life against the stone. 

If Aemond squints, he can catch a dark head of curls bouncing behind the register. 

Maybe a plant wouldn’t be a bad addition to his shelves. 

“Without a doubt.”

.

.

.

[astyrial]

eyes wide open oikawa tooru x gn!reader (angst) synopsis: you confront an old love word count: 1k warnings: egotistical behavior, went hard on this one ngl masterlist | requests are open

    teal and white balloons line the reminiscent halls of aoba johsai. strings hang onto locker handles, each one slightly scratched and torn from years of overuse, students not caring for the longevity of them. banners run along the top of the lockers, words scattered on some of them. aoba johsai's volleyball team's wins written on one of them. 

  you can hardly remember the last time you thought about their volleyball team. of their captain and setter. except now, it's hard to ignore the glaring love the school had for its athletes. the countless yearbook photos and awards all ending up in the hands of the players. especially the famed volleyball team and their captain that oh so loved the attention. 

  he loved it so much he forgot how to love someone else. leaving you years later standing outside of the party, arms crossed over your chest, completely alone. even hearing the music reminds you of why you didn't want to come in the first place. the songs that sound a little too much like prom music and the outfits that are simply there to represent wealth. 

  "reminiscing?" a voice worms its ways through your ears, familiar and yet disturbing.

  "hard to reminisce when none of it was very enjoyable," you stare ahead at the banner, him standing in your peripheral vision, your finger tapping against your forearm. 

  he sighs, lowering his shoulders. he's always been expressive through his body language. how he loves someone, hates them, it's always written across his face like a shakespearean play. and now, you can see the pain your words cause him, "none of it?"

  you look over at the man you once loved, just now noticing the way he's matured. his hair is a little shorter now and his glasses seem much more attuned to that of a grown man. they're a little thicker and closer together, echoing the academic look he carries through his outfit. the browns and loose plaid look quickly screaming professor, something you could never see on him. 

  "yeah... okay, not all of it. some of it was nice," you finally say, eyes still unable to connect with his for more than a few seconds.

  his appearance seems much more at peace with that answer than digging for something that’s a bit more truthful, "how have you been? as we haven't seen each other in quite some time."

  "truly? i don't know if that's any of your business, oikawa. it hasn't been for a very long time. so, i think i'm going to go. you enjoy your celebration with the team and every girl or television network who you had attention from," you push past him, mind throwing you back to every memory you've had in these halls. 

  the way he'd lean against your locker like some american sitcom. his eyes stuck on yours like a mouse to a trap, keeping you in his sights just long enough for him to use you to gain what he wanted. 

  "you're right- if that means anything to you, i want you to know. i wasn't right to you, not in the ways that mattered. especially when i did love you as much as i did," oikawa practically yells out to you just as a new song begins to play over the speakers. 

  you turn around to look at him, chills running up your arms. of course you wanted to know if you ending it with him was the right move. the way you cried over and over blaming yourself for ending something that barely even blossomed into something bigger. when in actuality, oikawa never could've shown that love to you, at least he couldn't then. the overwhelming sense of joy he felt from others impeded the love he garnered for you.

  "i loved you, and maybe it's too late for me to say that to you, but it's the truth. you were too good for me, and i took that for granted," his voice quiets some, hands stuffed into his pockets like a kid getting scolded.

  "it is too late. because- well, i'm a different person. eighteen-year old me would've loved to have heard that spiel," you take a few steps towards him, biting your lip as you shake your head, "but at this point? it's a little off the mark. wouldn’t you say?”

  oikawa stands there for a moment, clearly unable to think of what else to say, "... i know. but truly, y/n- l/n, i am a different person now. and i'd like to at least have a chance to sit down with you, tell you my side of everything."

  "what makes you think you deserve that? to have some sort of closure that i never got when i wanted it? you don't get to change this around just because you've changed," your eyebrows furrow, a clear look of disgust covering your expression, "oikawa, you may be the greatest guy alive right now, but that doesn't change anything."

  "i know- i know. i just want a chance to show you that my eyes are wide open. and they're finally noticing everything that i need to address in my life. that includes how i treated you," he takes a few steps in your direction, bringing his hand up slightly as if he were to hold yours.

  you quickly shake your head, "while it all sounds very genuine, i don't want that. i don't want whatever closure you think i may give you. please, go back to the party and find another person from your past who may want this apology." 

  instead of saying anything else to finally sway you to his side of the court, he stands there, like a fool. fingers pushed back into his pockets as a pout settles on his lips. anything you may have felt for him before, any sort of love or even contentment has been thrown out the window. now, all you feel is pitty for a man who so desperately wants to let go of his past.

a/n: this wasn’t how this fic was supposed to go.. it was supposed to be a fluff piece…

[cognitosclowns]

I wanna fall asleep with these freaks 💓🥺

I am the eepiest sleepiest little guy of all time and this activated a Worm in my Brain so this is gonna get SO LONG AMSDNAMSND

sfw!! just snuggles and soft things

Reagan

Not extremely cuddly? She likes her personal space!

That doesn't mean she never wants cuddles, she's just gotta be in a particular Mood for it!

Most nights, she wants to be kinda,, gently curled into your arm?? just a loose grip around it w/ her own, cheek resting on your bicep.

She talks in her sleep, but it's very quiet. Usually it's just her going through her schedule for tmrw (does she?? dream of work in her sleep???), but occasionally, you'll hear her mumbling about how much she loves you <333

Yes, it's just as cute as it sounds. She has no memory of it in the morning, but if you bring it up, she'll get this flustered little Half-Smile alllll morning <3

She falls asleep so fast. if you wanna be cute w/ her while cozied in bed I'm so sorry, the second she feels Safe and Warm and Cozy in your vicinity she's passing out for 4-12 hours ✨✌🏻

It's alright, you know she needs her rest <3 besides, that just opens up options for you two to be soft and shmoopy in the morning

Brett

Unsurprisingly, the cuddliest guy of all time. He would be inside your ribcage if the opportunity was provided KJASDKASJD

He really likes?? laying on your chest and stomach?? he likes to be significantly further down. occasionally you'll just,, barely see his hair and the top of his forehead peaking out from the covers from how low he gets

it's just so comfy! he likes The Noises and Warmth and Vague Suffocation that comes w/ sleeping w/ his head under the covers, resting against your torso <3

He smiles so much in his sleep. you didn't think ppl did that outside of movies, but he totally does <3 usually only when he's having a particularly good dream.

OH ALSO HIS BED IS SO FUCKING COZY

I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THIS MAN DOESN'T QUILT. HE HAS SO MANY BEAUTIFUL HAND-MADE QUILTS AND BLANKETS AND KNITTED SHIT IN HIS BED. I hope you like being cozy bc you're gonna be The Coziest Of All Time.

He also sleeps with stuffed animals! He always did as a child bc his treehouse was always cold as hell, and the habit just stayed with him!

they're so well-kept and soft all these years later <3 usually he just keeps them at the foot of the bed, bc it makes him feel safe to, but occasionally he'll bring a couple up for you two to snuggle <3 You Are Never Too Old To Snuggle A Stuffed Bear Don't Like To Yourself.

Andre

A Nightmare (affectionate)

not only is his sleep schedule Entirely Batshit, but he has so much trouble falling asleep. expect lots of tossing and turning

he does settle a lot thought when you hold him!! Don't hold too close, he still needs to squirm a lot to actually fall asleep

You're also the only person that he gets a full nights sleep with <3 he usually ends up waking up in the night, his mind starts working on smth, and he doesn't go back to sleep <3 but with you, it's almost instantaneous.

A little Jump, a bit of squirming to get into a comfortable position, and then off to seeb again <3 it's nice to see just how safe he feels around you <3

Expect plenty of early morning/late night convos <3 hell even middle of the night convos, where he hasn't realised that he fell asleep and instantly hops back into Whatever He Was

He also has such a habit of. Continuing Conversations From His Dream. like he'll just grab your arm and start talking about Yes I'm Sure If We Distilled It Enough We Could Make Whiskey Out Of Lighter Fluid Myc before passing out cold MASNFASMFJ

TLDR. squirmy silly man, but also enjoyable to seeb with.

Gigi

OUGHEEEEEEEEAWBABWBAGOURGHR <- experiencing wife fevers

SO COZY HOLY SHIT

I refuse to believe she doesn't have a Big Comfy Bed. Silk covers, big thick duvet, more pillows that she knows what to do with. The bed is 3 times the size of her so when you catch her snuggled up in bed she truly just looks like those photos of Very Small Puppies in Very Large Beds MNASDMASND

So cuddly <3 you wouldn't expect it, since she makes a point of being seen as very Untouchable and Independent, but she loves to be held.

Her ideal state is nuzzled under your chin, feeling your pulse through your neck <333 a leg hooked around yours to make sure you're nice and close.

She takes a while to fall asleep, so she likes to go to bed early! Feel free to join her at any time, she'll just be dozing <3

If you do join her when she goes to bed, expect some,, very soft, lovey-dovey moments. she looks utterly adorable, all bundled up in her cozy little slightly-too-poofy nightgown and eye mask.

She Deserves 1000000 Cheek Smooches Or Else You Shall Die Of Love Disease <- her favourite part of the night. she will start giggling the moment she feels your lips on her cheeks and neck.

kisses her 1000. she's the most

Myc

HE OWNS A WATERBED I KNOW THIS FUCKING MAN OWNS A WATERBED

A FREEFLOW WATERBED TOO. NO SUPPORT IT FEELS LIKE YOU'RE FLOATING.

It's actually pretty comfortable after you get used to it. you see the appeal, it's kinda got that Sensory Deprivation Tank feeling of weightless floating <3

Expect to be utterly Mummified in tentacles AKSDJASKJ

He insists that it's so that you don't go tossing and turning in your sleep and knock his ass off the bed but. You See Through His Lies You Understand. You See The Jackassery At Play Here.

OUGHEEE he has such a habit of like. swirling his tentacles gently around your skin. Not necessarily stroking back and forth, moreso massaging? if you have any knots in your back, thighs, or arms, they're gonna be gone by morning.

Fairly quiet? That doesn't mean silent though, he absolutely talks while you two drift off to sleep, but it's all in very quiet tones. A Little Shit, But Lovingly. (you may. gently have to bop him on the head and tell him to Shut The Hell Up Its 3 Am Goddamn Not Everyone's Job Is Just Sitting Around Getting Jacked Off MANSDMASNDMANSDMN)

Glenn

He snores like a foghorn I'm so sorry. the old man of all time

If you can look past that though, he's so fucking delightful to sleep with <33 most especially bc he loves when you lay on him

he says smth about how it Helps Unfuck His Back, but you're at least 45% sure that that isn't the main reason

(and you're right, it isn't <3 he just loves feeling your weight on him)

He loves just,, leaving a hand against your back, running up and down as you settle in to sleep <33 before leaving it to rest on the small of your back <33 love is so real and true.

his tail wags in his sleep

HIS TAIL WAGS IN HIS SLEEP

HIS TAIL WAGS IN HIS SLEEP

You'll see this most when he's sleeping on his stomach, bc when he's on his back his tail can't move, and on his side Everything Hurts At All Times KAJDKASJ

You'll see it squirm around the most when you're touching him <3 if you run your hands through his hair, or trace patterns on his back that things gonna be WHIPPING like a wheatstalk in a hurricane.

^ this also applies to. early morning and late night cuddles. in the morning its more of a,, slow waggle? like you'll just see it gently twitching under the bed, while you place kisses on his cheek BAWBBABWBABW <- if I talk about his tail any more we'll never be done

just the guy of all time <3 go sleep with that old man go do it go do it now go go go go g

JR

Let Him Sleep On The Booba

Truly he sleeps best with his face buried in your chest. what can he say, it's cozy as hell.

his ideal state is being Unconscious. A Coma. Laying horizontally being fed nutrients through a tube. He will nap on you at any possible moment

It's one of the time's he feels Truly Safe? Like he's constantly having to run around doing what the Shadow Board wants, doing what Rand wants, etc. Sometimes You Just Need A Little Nap With Your Partner To Be Okay Again

He IS freezing cold I refuse to believe otherwise. he runs Ice Cold and it takes him 15 minutes to warm up. feels a bit like cuddling a corpse until your body heat brings him back to Human Levels Of Warmth.

The things we do for love smh MNSFGKFAJSFGKSDJ

stupid rich expensive bed. imported silk sheets. mathematically optimised mattress designed in a lab to give him The Best Sleep Possible. he's rich enough to buy several countries, he might as well put it to use.

Alpha-Beta

OUGHEEEEEEEEAWBABWBAGOURGHR <- experiencing wife fevers part 2

He's such a heavy sleeper MY GOD. If you couldn't hear his internal systems whirring and clicking you'd think he was dead KJDSAKFJASDKFJDSA

It isn't really his fault - his 'sleep cycle' likes to be done in one solid stretch, to avoid file corruption, which means. His body just,, won't wake him up unless it senses Active Danger to himself or you.

It's fine! He'll wake up if the house is on fire. Probably.

'aww you're such an old man <3' <- he's going to push you into a woodchipper AKSGJSAKDJFKSDFGJ

He's so warm and cozy <3

Upside, personal heater during the winter. Downside, summer is hell for both of you (Upside, he sleeps mostly naked in summer to avoid Dying of Death Disease)

Hold him <3 hold him he won't ask but he loves being held, even more than he loves holding you (which is. Saying Something). The second he feels your arms wrap around him, maybe one of your hands gently fussing with his hair? Out like a light <3 its sweet, all those unspoken ways that shows how much he loves you <3

ABWBABWBAB I swear I did an ask like this before but. I don't care this was so cute. If you have any additions, go nuts!

[beauty-and-passion]

TMA - Chapters 21-30: Andorra is a beautiful place

Here I am, once again, back with 10 more TMA chapters.

Things are starting to get very, VERY interesting.

<< Main Masterlist < Previous post

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MAG 21 - Freefall

A statement all about skydiving and my mind flies to Ex Altiora. I’ll admit it: I kept wondering if the supernatural shit of this statement was related to this book in particular - or to any other book from my man Leutner.

But nope, today’s supernatural shit is something both weird and horrific at the same time: the sky itself, that ate a guy. The account is purposely left as vague as possible, with a clear emphasis on how difficult it is to describe the whole thing, but the image of the sky shifting and enveloping Robert is both beautiful and eldritch-esque. I really liked it.

And here we go again with the familiar names, this time it’s Simon Fairchild. Why is it so familiar? Why is every name so familiar?

But most importantly: how badass is he? Just think about this man, who decided to give Robert the scare of his life and not because he had something against him, but just because. And he did it, by saying the most harmless thing ever. He literally woke up and chose violence.

Also, what the heck happened in the end? Glad to know Martin is back, but what’s happening? Did he bring slugs with him? Worms? Jane Prentiss? Some other supernatural shit?

_______________________________

MAG 22 - Colony

Holy shit, it really was Jane Prentiss again.

I wondered if we would’ve seen more of her victims, but I never wanted Martin to be one of them! Well, it is kind of his own fault - I mean, his zealousness is admirable, but was it really necessary to go twice into that scary basement? And he even tried to take a photo, to prove to his boss that he was not insane! Martin needs a vacation away from all this shit.

And he survived for 13 fucking days, with Jane Prentiss (who is officially a trypophobic’s nightmare) knocking at his door every now and then and one trillion worms trying to find their way inside his house - and possibly inside him too. Disgusting, draining, terrifying, hats off to him for surviving. 

So the famous stomach problems were not real: it was Jane Prentiss doing shit with Martin’s phone. And she even has the balls to write something like “Okay, sheesh, keep him”. Kind of a boss, I’ll admit it.

O-oh, what is the “Archivist’s crimson fate”? Is it a sort of “curse” placed on the Head Archivists of this Institute? Maybe that’s why Gertrude Robinson died: the man from MAG 11 tried to warn her, but it was too late and the “curse” activated before she could escape it. But considering that there are supernatural shits everywhere, is the “crimson fate” a curse or just another supernatural shit?

(Don’t you DARE to tell me any spoilers)

One last thing: John has been very understanding, which proves he’s a nice guy after all. Even if he always tells shit about Martin, this time he gave him a place in the Archives, reassured him and told him he would hire extra security too. He trusted his words. Finally, Jon is becoming a better person XD

He also mentioned a statement from Jane Prentiss herself, so if I’m getting this series right, I guess MAG 23 will be about that statement.

_______________________________

MAG 23 - Schwartzwald

It wasn’t Jane Prentiss’ statement. Sad :(

But we got a statement given to Jonah Magnus - who I suppose is the founder of the Institute. Pretty cool.

Okay, so we have the tomb of this Johann von Württemberg guy, a man with no eyes, a disappeared coin, a mysterious book and a lot of eyes again. The book immediately made me think of my man Leutner, while the eyes are a constant reminder of MAG 11/all other MAGs before & after and I am 100% sure these eyes are part of some other supernatural shit we still have to see. Is it related to the “Archivist’s crimson fate”, maybe? Only time will tell.

Here we are, the most important part of the statement: Albrecht is ready to enter the mausoleum, even if a weird guy gave him a weirder warning. The tension builds, Albrecht is here, he lights his lantern… and then we have Martin, who is apparently walking around the Archives naked and I burst out laughing because I just had this wonderful image of Jon all focused on the statement, while Martin is chilling around wearing nothing but his boxers. Best way to build the tension and break it at the same time, 10/10, kudos to the author of this series for doing that, it was the funniest shit ever.

MY (WO)MAN MARY KEAY. Don’t be silly, Jon, of course it’s not a coincidence - there are no coincidences in this series. This woman is the mother of my man Gerard, I am 100% sure. And I love how the Keays have always been involved with supernatural shits, ever since their ancestor Albrecht. It kinda explains why Gerard is always around them. It’s not that he doesn’t have anything better to do: it's literally part of his DNA.

And it could also explain why he’s searching for Leutner’s books: maybe the one in Johann von Württemberg’s tomb really was a Leutner’s book and Gerard is searching for all others.

That's very, very interesting.

_______________________________

MAG 24 - Strange Music

A weird calliope organ and some murderous clown dolls. Not the most exciting story ever but hey, at least there are a couple interesting things here:

We hear Sasha for the first time and she appears for the most useless speech ever. I hope she will be more useful in the future. And Jon is sarcastic with her too, which proves to me that he’s not an ass: just a typical British guy XD (my dear Brits, you had it coming XD Don’t take me seriously, we’re all bros here <3)

Someone “legitimate” took the calliope. And my mind flies to our favorite delivery company “Breekon and Hope Deliveries”.

The Circus of the Other. What the heck is the “Other”? My bet is another supernatural shit.

Holy shit the organ is in the Institute?! Was it the Breekon and Hope Deliveries to deliver it or did the Institute take it?

Is there something Elias knows for sure, or all he knows is that things are “maybe/probably somewhere”? This man is useless XD

Now that I think about it: Elias is the head of the Institute, right? So he bought it from some of Magnus’ successors, I suppose. Now, does he know about the “Archivist’s crimson fate”? If this “fate” is some sort of curse that takes all Head Archivists, it probably took more Head Archivists before Gertrude Robinson, right? And Elias never asked himself why all these Archivists were casually dying under his nose?

Or maybe I’m getting it all wrong and the “crimson fate” isn’t a curse that affects all Head Archivists. Well, then I have another unrelated question: how's it possible that the goddamn Head of the Institute knows nothing of his Institute? How involved is Elias in the Institute and its organization?

There are still many missing things and I can’t wait to connect them all.

_______________________________

MAG 25 - Growing Dark

The statement itself isn’t very interesting, just “guy finds some random shit in a dark creepy place”, but there are a few details that caught my attention.

First of all, here we are again with a closed eye. I suppose that the People’s Church of the Divine Host and these Hither Green Dissenters are all part of the same gang, considering they both share closed eyes as their symbol. Also, now there’s Alesund mentioned too. Is this the birthplace of the supernatural shit they all worship? And are closed and open eyes related to the same supernatural shit or they're two different shits?

We also have the exact date in which Gertrude Robinson died: May 15th, 2015. And this is a problem for me, because I don’t remember any date and I suck with dates in general, unless I have a scheme/timeline/whatever. So tell me: should I do a timeline?

Fuck, I’ll do it anyway.

_______________________________

MAG 26 - A Distortion

Holy shit. HOLY. SHIT.

*I think I’ve finally found my Michael. And it’s not Michael Getty, Michael Crew or Michael Whatever: it’s Michael the Supernatural Shit. And I love him. I mean, he is:

a chill guy, who buys flowers and drinks coffee

a poet, considering that when Sasha asked him what he is, he said: “How would a melody describe itself when asked?”. Best way to answer, he’s amazing, I’m in love

a cool boy who is creepy as fuck while not appearing creepy at all

probably the guy “with all the bones in his hands” mentioned in MAG 8

a good boyo who wants to help

*I wrote a timeline just in time, because as soon as I heard the name Timothy Hodge, I instantly remembered he was from MAG 6. The timeline is useful: I will keep updating it, then.

*Poor Martin is being stalked by the goddamn colony of silver worms. Martin, I think it's time for a vacation far away from all these supernatural shits. What about Andorra? Andorra is between the mountains, so good luck finding it. The population is less than 90k, so basically there are more people in my backyard than in the entire state. And it’s in the Pyrenees, so I’m pretty sure the nights are probably shorter than in Norway.

Think about it, Martin: no supernatural shits, no worms, long days. And spas. They have spas too.

I dream this for Martin.

*Two statements ago I asked for Sasha to be more useful and here she is. She is useful indeed! Thank you for your service, Sasha: you finally gave me my Michael and you’ve probably saved Jon’s life. Great job.

But you know how you can save everyone's life even more? Move to Andorra. They also have traditions related to fire and burning things, just in case some worms find you. Listen to me and run away from all this shit.

Andorra is a wonderful place.

_______________________________

MAG 27 - A Sturdy Lock

Another not-very-interesting story, just “supernatural shit knocks at my door during the night”. Also, it comes after that bomb that was MAG 26, so the backlash is even stronger. I mean, after all the shit Sasha told him, Jon thought it was a great idea to record another statement. Seriously?!

Andorra, Jon. Andorra is a nice place to live.

Also, who the heck is Sarah Carpenter? Is she important too? Should I remember her too?

Even more important, what does that mean that Mr. McKenzie’s bedroom door “does not have a keyhole or a lock”? Was his door just a wood panel? Did it have only a handle? I’m kinda confused by this, honestly, but maybe it’s just me not being able to visualize it.

_______________________________

MAG 28 - Skintight

The statement isn’t particularly captivating, but Sarah Baldwin peeling off her skin and putting it back is a bit creepy, I’ll accept it.

Also, since Jon said she was in some previous statements, I searched for her and here she was, among all the missing people mentioned in MAG 1: disappeared in August 2006, while this statement is from April 2016. So the girl here clearly isn’t Sarah Baldwin.

That kinda explains her weird words about trespassing: she (it?) was probably apologizing to another supernatural shit in the hospital for entering their territory. But if I’m right, that means every supernatural shit has a territory like mafia bosses and no one can invade them? Or maybe this applies to some supernatural shits and not others. Maybe there is a hierarchy or similar and the most powerful can do whatever they want and go whenever they want, while others control specific, limited territories. Can’t wait to find out.

_______________________________

MAG 29 - Cheating Death

Oh, that was interesting! So, according to this statement, when you win death, you become death. Until someone else wins, then they become the new death and you turn back into a human, but you’re immortal. Very cool, a good variation to the topic of defeating death/cheating death/immortality.

Once again, the series listens to me and provides an answer to my questions: I wanted to know more about Elias and here we find out he was a filing clerk when Gertrude Robinson was still alive.

Well, this explains why Elias never cared about other Head Archivists before Getrude: he was just a clerk. Maybe he wasn’t even hired yet, when there was someone before her.

This also explains why he doesn’t know a lot of things: he was just a clerk, after all.

Still, it’s very weird that he managed to go from filing clerk to goddamn head of the Institute in the span of nothing. What happened to the previous head of the Institute? Did they die too, along with all the previous staff members? How? And only Elias survived this unexplained massacre? That’s very, very suspicious. If I were Jon, I would ask Elias a couple of things.

But if I were Jon, I would’ve already moved away from all this shit, so I wouldn’t ask anything anyway.

_______________________________

MAG 30 - Killing Floor

I’ll quote Jon for this one: “Hmm. More meat. Interesting.”

Is meat part of another supernatural shit? Should I be scared by it? In this case, it kinda failed to do so. I mean, this isn't a bad statement… just a little meh. After all, it’s just an endless slaughterhouse featuring the Obligatory Dead Guy. Nothing truly amazing.

And it’s kinda sad, because we had MAG 26 and now this post ends not with a bang, but with a meh. Sad :(

But even more sad is that Jon, despite all of this, is still recording statements.

Listen to me, Jon. Andorra is a nice place to live.

_______________________________

In conclusion

So, that's my theory for now:

There are a lot of different supernatural shits in this world. Some are more powerful and can do whatever they want, others are “minor” and they control smaller territories.

The Magnus Institute contains the worst/more powerful supernatural shit of them all. The Lukas family took/found this shit in Norway and decided it was very cool - but a little hungry too, so let’s close it in the Institute and let’s use the Institute as a huge “feeder” to feed it.

This supernatural shit is what Jane Prentiss referred to as the “Archivist’s crimson fate”. Every Head Archivist is somehow “cursed” to become food for this thing. That’s what happened to Gertrude Robinson, that’s what happened to her staff and that’s what happened to the staff before them.

Elias somehow survived and either 1) he turned into a supporter of the Lukas family or 2) he’s used as bait to find more people to feed to the supernatural shit.

How much of this is right? How much is wrong? Only time will tell me :D

Speaking of Jonathan: my man, I’m a skeptical person too, so I understand that you’re skeptical. But you literally have silver worms everywhere, someone threatened you via Martin’s phone, the most reasonable member of your staff told you she met a supernatural shit in real life and the supernatural shit confirmed something bad will happen to you. And after all of this, you are still recording statements as if it’s nothing?! My man, that’s not being skeptical, that’s not having any self-preservation instinct at all! First Martin threw himself into a basement that screamed “DANGER HERE”, now you're ignoring all red flags, wow you’re perfect for each other…

Wait... wait... are you two the homoerotic couple? Are you two gonna fall in love? I’ll admit it, it would be very funny if it’s you two. But, again, only time will tell.

So let’s wait and see what will happen: will my theories be correct? Will Michael the Supernatural Shit become Best Boyo of the series? Will my man Leutner still wreak havoc all over the world? Will Gerard come back to deal with this shit like he always does? How many more iconic weirdos will I find in the next 10 episodes? Will Jane Prentiss still haunt these poor people?

And most importantly: when will Jon and his staff finally listen to me and move to a better place?

>> Next post

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

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[distortionswife]

JonMartin fic: Together is always better

( Part 1 )

-- note before the fic: this is set after 159 but before the hell that is 160. SO SPOILERS FOR MAG 1-160 --

Together is always better.

" That's the thing, isn't it? Ever since that day... The day Jon came for me, the day Jon took me out of the lonely... Ever since then, we've just been happy.

And if I'm honest, I couldn't be happier. I'm glad we aren't in there anymore, in the institute... It feels so free. I've never seen Jon smile as much, he's so excited to move in with me and I feel the same!"

Martin smiled to himself, writing down his many thoughts in his journal, reminiscing on how everything was better now. He had to kill some time while Jon was getting to his cabin.

" Oh, I'm so excited... Jon doesn't know what i have planned for us but I just know he's going to love it! We'll sort out his stuff and settle him in... We'll drink something and then I'll take him to my favorite spot.

I have a backpack ready with everything we could need, including every little thing Jon can worry about; I have a notebook, first aid kit, one of those little fans for food, so that there can't get any bugs into his drink!

Oh I can't wait to write today down, to capture Polaroids of our day together... To hopefully capture that loving smile, the smile that makes me absolutely melt."

And suddenly the bell rang, it was Jon!

Martin had a moment of panic as he didn't know what to do, his hands up as he looked around quickly, closing the journal and putting it away. He yelled a quick "COMING!" before he bolted it for the door, looking as calm as can be.

Which wasn't calm at all, the sweetheart was a nervous wreck and it showed.

"H-Hey Jon! I wasn't expecting you this soon... N-Not that I mind! Gosh no!" Martin rambled, scratching the back of his head as Jon just smiled up at him.

"I'm happy to see you too, Martin..." Jon chuckled so sweetly, looking well taken care of for once. He did that as of late, since Martin seemed to like it. And if he could make Martin happy with those little things... Maybe it was worth it.

Martin let him in and helped carry some stuff to the bedroom. Jon surprisingly didn't have much, just a big suitcase with everything he held dear.

"Do you want anything to drink? Or do you want to unpack first? Anything is fine with me, so please tell me." Martin giggled a little, smiling at Jon, who just seemed at ease, for once.

Jon looked around for a moment, admiring the gentle and soft colored interior. The U-Shaped kitchen island, the white countertops with light blue cabinets, the metallic gray fridge, the microwave resting on top of one of the counters... How every cabinet held cups, plates, spices, drinks... He's never felt his at home before and it was... nice.

"Ah- Sorry, I was lost in thought for a moment," Jon apologized with a hearty chuckle, "If you don't mind, I'd like to unpack first... It isn't much so I'll be done in a moment."

Martin nodded and brought Jon in for a hug, "I'll see you in a moment, then. I'll go brew the tea and coffee while you unpack."

Jon nodded at Martin, his gaze lingering for a moment as he noticed those tiny details he honestly has grown to love... The freckles on his cheeks or the way his glasses are never on straight.

But that gaze was soon broken, as Martin had let go of Jon to go make tea in the kitchen. And so, Jon set off to the master bedroom they now shared.

Once in there, he opened his big brown suitcase, seeing everything he had packed... Including his favorite photo. He knew how he hated that photo at the time... The very first photo of Jon and Martin together, on the very first work day. Elias had insisted that everyone took pictures together as it would make the team stronger or some workplace bonding type BS.

But... He cherished that photo now, smiling as he saw them still so young and... unharmed. Oh how he longed for those times, no worm scars, no paranoia and most importantly, no eye that was constantly watching and hungering for more.

But Jon didn't adore Martin back then, he wouldn't have what they have now... And that wasn't worth it. Some scars and trauma over Martin?

Martin was his reason for everything... He didn't think he'd still be here if it weren't for him..

But Jon shook off those many thoughts, just happy to finally be somewhere safe... somewhere he's happy. And Martin made him very happy.

Jon continued to unpack, various sweaters, blouses... Some of Martin's hoodies he had stolen... All put away in a second closet, it seemed Martin even did that... After all, the little note on the door said "I got you a closet of your own, so you don't have to panic which clothes are mine and which are yours <;3"

He bumped into the desk by accident, seeing a notebook fall out and looking curiously. Jon saw the words "Jon" and "surprise" and he just closed the book, he didn't wish to know it for once.

He trusted Martin, after all.

It wasn't long before Jon was done, walking to Martin with a gentle smile, he felt relaxed. Part of him wondered how long it would last.

Martin sat him down with a cup of oolong tea, just relaxing for a moment. The two joked a bit about how in the end, it was always going to be them, even if Jon hated him in the beginning.

It was almost time..

"Hey, uhm, Jon? I was wondering something, would you be interested in coming with me somewhere? It's just a beautiful spot I'd like to show you..." Martin spoke, trying to be as confident without leading Jon on to accidentally reveal what he had in mind.

"Oh? Well, I'd love to, actually... But do you have--" Jon started,

Martin immediately cut him off with a chuckle, "Yes, I have everything, including the first aid kit, the tape recorder and a notebook... I've got everything you could ever need, with me."

Jon laughed softly at that, "Well... I guess I'm ready to go then, please lead the way, Martin."

Oh how Jon wasn't used to this, but how he adored it... Martin knew him so well and for once, it wasn't a bad thing.

Martin got up from his seat and walked over to Jon, putting his hand out. Jon immediately took it as he got up, letting go and walking towards the front door.

Both put on their respective coats, it was quite chilly outside and neither of them were in the mood to get sick, even if it'd mean they could cozy up together.

Martin wasn't sure what level of intimacy Jon was comfortable with, of course he was never going to push him on it, that felt unnecessary and wouldn't be good on his part... So he waited until Jon told him or made the move. They hadn't even held hands yet...

Jon stood in front of Martin, noticing him drifting off again, that same misty look in his eyes. "Martin? Martin! Martin come back to me!"

Martin flinched lightly and blinked rapidly, "H-Huh? Oh- Was I drifting off in thought again..? My bad..."

Jon smiled in a reassuring way, taking a hold of Martin's hand, rubbing his thumb over it in an attempt to ease him. Although, both of them blushed very lightly at the gesture. "It's okay, don't worry... I've got you, I won't let you fall back into that place..."

Martin felt himself melt, his heart fluttering with such adoration for the paranoid man before him... He knew he had a heart, just because some eye made him monster-like, didn't mean he wasn't able to care anymore.

"Thank you"

"Of course."

And with that, they left the house, hands intertwined with a gentle almost cautious hold.

Martin lead the way, watching Jon for if he needed to slow down his speed. Whenever Martin got excited, he'd walk faster and talk faster, after all. Not that Jon minded, he always seemed to smile as Martin spoke, it'd fluster the boy whenever he did notice it.

The walk was nice and quiet, going over meadows and through the nearby forest, the lighting of the sun illuminating their path so beautifully and it almost felt... romantic. The golden glow of the low hanging sun, giving them enough warmth to not be too chilly, paired with the gentle rustling noises of leaves in the breeze... It was perfect.

Then they arrived near a big pen, where Martin's favorite cows stood. He let out an excited yelp and ran towards them, many of the cows going towards him as well.

Jon smiled at that alone, bringing out his own camera and taking a few pictures of Martin with the brown highland cows. Oh that smile... What did he do to deserve someone such as Martin?

"Jon! Jon! Come here!! Quick!!" Martin said, seeming even more excited than before.

And Jon, of course, walked over hastily, partially worried something was wrong, probably not reading Martin's tone correctly.

Martin pointed at a calf, it was fluffy and near it's mother.

"Remember that I told you about Bertha being pregnant a few months back? Well... it looks like she had her baby!" Martin explained, squeezing his hands as he held back the excitement that wanted to come out. He couldn't hold it back completely, so his arms waved back in forth in a flapping manner while he watched the new calf.

"That's really exciting, Martin! And it looks so well, too!" Jon replied, happy to see Martin in his true element.

Martin nodded very excitedly, watching as Bertha walked to him with the calf, almost as if to show him off. Martin reached out his hand after the mother gave him permission, the calf sniffed at Martin's hand before pressing his head into the hand.

Jon took a few more pictures, knowing Martin would want this moment captured nonetheless.

After a little more cuddling with the cows, they were back on their way, with Martin's promise that they were "almost there"

Their little walk ended in the beautiful flowery meadow, a beautiful sight of the setting sun and... A picnic cloth and basket..? Oh Martin really did have it all planned out.

Jon felt his own heart flutter a bit at the sight, sitting where Martin told him to, looking over everything in complete awe. Although his heart sank a bit when he felt that damned urge again, looking almost apologetically to his love. "Martin I-"

"No, no, don't worry! I expected it..." Martin smiled, putting down the tape recorder and the notebook with a pen, "I will be a little further away, you can see me if you want to... But wave to me when you're done!"

Jon nodded and watched him leave, before focusing on what kept him alive, recording another statement, about the ones who were once buried down here deep below... And the few that are still breathing.

Martin, in the meantime, was picking flowers, planting a flower seed wherever he picked them. He looked back at Jon, seeing his eyes glow once more, his back hunched.. "Good god Jon has TERRIBLE posture," he thought...

But while he waited, Martin turned the flowers into a flower crown, somehow knowing the dimensions of Jon's head perfectly. A mixture of blue and green flowers to symbolize the two of them.

He watched Jon while he made the statement, from afar so it wouldn't tire him out. Even like this, Martin found a way to adore him.

He waited and waited, how long was this statement? It's taking quite some time.. Oh-! He's done.

Martin giggled a little as he saw Jon waving in an almost exaggerated way, unsure if he'd see a tiny wave.

Either way, Martin made his way back to Jon, sitting on the other side of the picnic basket. He took out some Tupperware boxes with various foods, such as sandwiches and little deserts he had made... the canister with hot tea, some cups... Everything they could need.

"Oh Martin... Did you do all of this for us...?" Jon spoke, practically falling for Martin again.

"Yes! I wanted our first actual date type outing to be special... So... Everything is homemade... It's everything you like, that you told me, I mean... So please, enjoy it.. for me?" Martin explained, a big smile on his face as he offered Jon a cup of tea.

"Thank you... But before we continue this... I have something for you, Martin... And it may be cliche... But I like it." Jon chuckled a little nervously, grabbing something from his pocket and handing it to Martin. It was a small wrapped gift.

Once Martin opened it, it held a locket of some kind, a heart shaped locket with a photo of the two of them.

"I-I know it's nothing grand and as I said, cliche and maybe cheesy... But i wanted to give you something so I'd always be close to you... So you have something to look at if you miss me..." Jon explained, his cheeks red as he did. He was never the one for materialistic gifts, as he was quite bad at figuring out what someone would want as a gift.

Martin teared up, smiling oh so happily at Jon as he held it to his chest, "Oh Jon..."

Jon, however, didn't understand that this was a good type of crying. He immediately cupped Martin's face, his own expression filled with worry. "I-Is it too much? Does it remind you of something you don't like? I-I-I can bring it back and get you something else!"

Martin laughed softly, moving his hands to cup Jon's face as well, "Please don't... I love it..."

"Y-You do..? But- But you're crying!" Jon said feeling confused at the mixed reaction Martin gave off.

"It's a good type of crying, Jon... It's crying out of happiness... I really love it... Thank you." Martin spoke, his love for Jon evident in every way; in his voice, his eyes, his gentle hold.

"I love you, Martin.."

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

And that's the end of part one.

I'd absolutely love to write more but I'm also very sick at the moment so I'm splitting up the story into two parts, I hope you don't mind!

The fluffiness is definitely continuing in part two <3

And sorry if it's a little short, once more, I'm sick so I write what I can! and do tell me if you liked it!

[iturmom]

[id: a pack of naruto trading cards. the graphic on the pack shows (from left to right) naruto, boruto, and sasuke, with boruto in front and between naruto and sasuke. sasuke’s hand is on naruto’s right shoulder, and naruto’s left hand is on sasuke’s waist, pressing sasuke’s body to naruto’s. naruto’s right hand is on boruto’s head. naruto and sasuke are looking at boruto, naruto with a silly smile and sasuke with an affectionate, soft smile. boruto is looking up at sasuke with one eye, the other is closed, and he also has a large toothy grin, like naruto /end id]

hi i have brain worms. i have a disease and it is most definitely fatal and i got it from this picture. 

i saw another picture, (some naruto family photo but i cannot for the life of me remember which family it was) the other day and i compared it to this picture immediately upon seeing it and i still had this picture open in a tab so when i looked at it i went sleuthing on the internet to see if i could find the picture i compared it to and no luck BUT i did find. 

literally. sasuke has never looked so happy and comfortable in an official picture with his OWN family. THERE IS NOT EVEN AN IMAGE WHERE SASUKE IS TOUCHING HIS “WIFE” (except for when he poked her forehead which as we have established is NOT a loving gesture and if u think it is, ask your doctor if xanax is right for you) NEVER EVEN FUCKING MIND THEM SHARING SUCH A TENDER AND AFFECTIONATE EMBRACE, FORGET IT. 

in my short research i found a gif of sasuke and sakura on a training field with sarada and sasuke is like holding sarada or something it’s kinda hard to tell. he’s looking at her with a happy expression and it’s precious. and then SAKURA LEANS IN TO HUG HER AND SASUKE BACKS AWAY!?!?!?!?!? 

like. if u really loved ur wife u were in a happy loving marriage with a love child and it’s just a super fucking loving functional family, you would not back away when your wife hugs your child. a real family man would see that as the optimal opportunity for a nice loving family hug and everyone would smile and be so happy and. that’s not what happened. 

HE DOES NOT TOUCH HIS “WIFE.” 

BUT HE IS SO COMFORTABLE CASUALLY TOUCHING NARUTO. IN CANON.

IN THE UCHIHA FAMILY PHOTO HE IS NOT EVEN ACKNOWLEDGING EITHER OF THEM LET ALONE TOUCHING THEM.

but in THIS ONE PHOTO. ON A PACK OF FUCKING CARDS. we see more love then we EVER see between sasuke and his own family. 

i mean just look at them. they’re holding each other. holding each other closer than sasuke has ever held his wife, with more affection than he has ever shown his wife IN TOTAL. and they’re so comfortable. not only is sasuke acknowledging them both but AFFECTIONATELY. (AND HOW FUCKING SAD IS IT THAT THIS MINIMAL AMOUNT OF TENDERNESS IS MORE THAN HE HAS EVER SHOWN FOR HIS FAMILY)

also i just want to say. if u put this into a real world perspective right. imagine with me if you will. two guys who are childhood best friends. they grew up and settled down with wives and had some kids right. imagine them doing this YOU CAN’T BECAUSE TWO STRAIGHT GUYS WITH WIVES AND KIDS WOULD NEVER DO THIS. they would never hold each other like this and dote over one of the guy’s kids it wouldn’t happen. and u can correct me if i’m wrong like maybe you know some guys like that maybe i’m just not at the age yet where i can speak from experience i don’t have any friends with wives and families u know what i mean? i could be wrong. but i can’t picture two straight guys in love with their wives doing this i just can’t. this is a perfect example of a loving family taking a family photo I HAVE EYES. if u showed this to someone who’s never even heard of a nuh-root-oh before they would be like ‘oh look at these two married men with their son diversity win love is love’ or some shit. I’M RIGHT.

now prove me wrong and show me an officially licensed image where sasuke looks like he loves his family as much as this and touches his “wife” with as much affection and i will eat my words i swear on my ass

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Photos

ShinoMitsu Week 2023 Day Three

A/N: Modern AU for this one. I know they had photography in Japan by the time Demon Slayer takes place, but I had a very specific idea in mind. Hope you like it, thanks for reading! Word Count: 2,000

Mitsuri hadn’t meant to arrive so early, but her mom had sent her on her way because she was digging a trench into the floor with her anxious pacing. Now she found herself sat on the couch of the upstairs apartment where the Kochou family lived above their family pharmacy, stuck between Shinobu’s sisters with Shinobu herself nowhere in sight.

Apparently she was helping her dad with some sorting and wouldn’t be back up for a other hour or so, and that was how Mitsuri became the hostage of Kanae and Kanao, but honestly she was more so trapped by the older sibling than the younger who seemed content to simply watch her eldest sister cook.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you Mitsuri!” Kanae had smiled, pulling Mitsuri around wherever she saw fit, taking full advantage of Shinobu’s absence. “I was beginning to worry that Shinobu had made you up!”

“Ah, nope! I’m real. I’m sorry for not finding the time to introduce myself sooner.” Mitsuri apologized contritely, but Kanae would have none of it.

“Oh, it’s not your fault, I’m sure. I know how Shinobu is. She can be such a handful sometimes, always overcomplicating and overthinking and so, so stubborn.” Kanae took Mitsuri’s hands in a gesture of gratitude, “She is very thoughtful and sweet underneath all of the angst, so I’m very glad you gave my grumpy baby sister a chance, you really are a saint, Mitsuri!”

“I- I don’t know about that!” Mitsuri blushed, hoping Kanae couldn’t feel how sweaty her hands were becoming.

Then Kanae got an evil glint in her eye that Mitsuri had seen Shinobu herself have on occasion, usually when she was about to verbally destroy someone who absolutely deserved to be taken down a few pegs. But whereas Mitsuri grew to love that cunning look on Shinobu, on Kanae she felt a measure of fear. Mitsuri gulped.

“Speaking of my grumpy baby sister, I know just the thing we can do until she comes back,” Kanae grinned, pulling Mitsuri to sit on the couch beside her, “Kanao, could you bring over Shinobu’s photo album, please?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Kanao was right to be a little hesitant, but Kanae promised to take full responsibility for whatever happens. Whatever that means.

So that was how Mitsuri found herself in the middle the her girlfriend’s sisters, Shinobu’s photo album on her lap while Kanae shared stories and turned each page, making sure to point out the cutest and most embarrassing pictures as if Mitsuri hadn’t already been guiltily burning the images into her brain to forever hold and cherish. She prayed that Shinobu would spare her life for her transgressions.

Shinobu had been premature baby, and needed extra oxygen in the hospital. There were a couple photos of her with her head beneath a plastic dome that provided her with the extra oxygen she needed.

“I thought it looked like she was going to space,” Kanae chuckled, “so I started calling her the astronaut baby.”

Shinobu had been so tiny that her father’s arms nearly engulfed her in one picture. Her little hand too small to fully encircle her mother’s finger in another. Even in the arms of a four year old Kanae she looked like a doll.

A little further along was Shinobu at three in mud-caked overalls with the biggest grin, hands full worms and pill bugs.

“Shinobu has always liked bugs a lot, I see.” Mitsuri smiled, “On our walks, she always stops to put the worms back in the grass after a rainy spell.”

“Some things never change.” Kanae shook her head fondly, looking down at another picture of Shinobu chasing her with the same handful of bugs.

So many pictures, so many stories. Shinobu with her sisters, making a sandcastle at the beach, playing in the bathtub, cute Halloween costumes, first day of school, cute scribble-y drawings that Shinobu’s drawing style still matched to this day, missing baby teeth, friends and extended family, track meet ribbons, report cards, science fair projects, family camping trips, all the way up until the day of the science club’s first place win at the regional academic conference a few weeks ago.

“Thank you for sharing this with me. It’s been a lot of fun.” Mitsuri was positively glowing with happiness, “I feel like I know Shinobu even better now.”

“The pleasure was all mine. If you want, you could save any of your favorites to your phone.” Kanae offered.

“Really?! I’d love too, thank you so much!”

“I think you two are playing with fire.” Kanao cautioned, eyeing the clock.

“You’ve been enabling us, Kanao. You have just as much a part in this as we do.”

“Shinobu won’t get mad at me. She always knows who the true mastermind is.”

From the entrance hall they could hear the door begin the rattle before swinging open, a familiar tired groan followed the closing of the door soon after.

“It’s been nice knowing you, Kana-nee. It was nice to meet you, Mitsuri.” Kanao settled comfortably on her portion of the couch, watching the two older girls try to speed through the album while Mitsuri snapped several photos, unwilling to go without them even at the possible cost of her own life.

“It’s always like ‘If You Give a Mouse a Cookie’ with mom and dad,” They could hear Shinobu gripe as she kicked off her shoes, “They ask you to do one thing, and then another and another, there’s always something else! They have two other daughters sitting upstairs who aren’t expecting company, you know.

“Speaking of which, when Mitsuri gets here, you can make your introductions or whatever, but if you try to embarrass me in any way, I will…” Shinobu paused at the doorway to the living room.

Her eyes fell on Mitsuri first, how could they not? She wasn’t worried about Kanao, but long had she been exposed to Kanae’s terrible influence? For a moment, she stared back at the owlishly round eyes of her older sister and her girlfriend, before she heard a rustle. Mitsuri’s eyes flicked to her lap and Shinobu heard several clicks of a camera shutter before Mitsuri’s eyes darted back up to meet hers.

Slowly, Shinobu’s stare lowered to Mitsuri’s lap and she blanched when she saw the thick book resting atop her thighs. Her gaze then dragged upward to Kanae’s.

“Careful Shinobu,” Kanae chuckled nervously, “we wouldn’t want you to pop a blood vessel… again.”

“Start running.”

Kanae squealed, flipping over the back of the couch as Shinobu lunged for her. She crawled over the couch as Kanae ran to her room, Shinobu probably would have caught up if she didn’t stop to snatch the photo album from Mitsuri’s lap along the way. Instead she ended up running into the door just as Kanae closed it.

“You’ll have to come out of there at some point!” Shinobu warned, smacking the door with a threatening thud.

“Please, Shinobu, show your sister mercy!”

“The only sister I have is Kanao. You will be dead by morning!”

“Shinobu, please don’t kill her!” Mitsuri pleaded, “She was only helping pass the time until you could come back.”

“She could have suggested a game or turned on the tv! She deliberately chose to humiliate me!” Shinobu countered, now very red in the face.

Mitsuri jogged over to Shinobu, cautiously touching the shorter girl’s tense back, “You shouldn’t feel humiliated, Shinobu. I love every part of you, and being able to see so much of your life laid out so plainly for me to see is something so precious to me that I will treasure it until the day I die.”

A muffled ‘aww’ could be heard from Kanae’s room and Shinobu pounded her fist against the door in warning before slowly turning to face Mitsuri, though her eyes still fluttered over the ground and her cheeks were still beet red.

Mitsuri coaxed Shinobu’s gaze upward with soft fingertips to her chin and jaw. Then she kissed away the vein that strained so visibly against Shinobu’s forehead that it was borderline concerning.

“I am sorry that I looked at your photos without your consent. Could you ever forgive me?”

Shinobu bit the inside of her lip and nodded meekly softly after. She could never be mad at Mitsuri, try as she might sometimes to put her foot down. Mitsuri had a her wrapped around her finger since day one and she was lucky that Mitsuri seemed to use her power over her sparingly.

“It’s strange,” Kanae hummed, “It’s pretty quiet out there, but I swear I just heard the crack of a whip.”

Shinobu pivoted quickly towards the door, “You’ll be hearing the crack of your door getting pulled off of its hinges if you don’t shut the hell up!” She warned.

“Hey, Shinobu,” Mitsuri wrapped her arms around Shinobu from behind, tugging her away from Kanae’s door, “If you promise not to kill your sister, I’ll let you look through all of my baby pictures the next time you come over. That way we’ll be even, right?”

Shinobu exhaled, relaxing against Mitsuri’s chest. She would really, really, really like to see Mitsuri’s cute little round face…

“It’ll take a lot more than that to atone for all of Kanae’s transgressions against me, but I suppose this deal will stave off her execution a bit longer.”

“You’re a real life saver, Mitsuri!” Kanae praised, “When the time comes that you want to get married, you have my blessing.”

Before Shinobu could lunge for the door again, Mitsuri easily pulled her away, “Hey Nobu, why don’t you show me your room! I’ve been looking forward to meeting Fugu personally. Kanao told me about the caterpillars you guys are raising in there too, I’d love to learn all about them.”

“Yeah? Okay, let’s go.” Shinobu thought about it briefly before untangling from Mitsuri’s arms, taking her hand instead, she lead her to the next door that was her and Kanao’s room.

Once Shinobu had some cuddle time with Mitsuri to help her cool off, and the Kochou parents closed shop for the day and came up to make dinner, Kanae felt it was safe enough to rejoin the family. But she did use Kanao and Mitsuri as body shields just in case Shinobu got any ideas.

Mitsuri had a lot of fun getting to know all of Shinobu’s family over dinner and games. She was already looking forward to spending more time with them in the future. As Shinobu was getting ready to walk her home, Kanae sidled up to her and whispered in her ear,

“Next time I’ll bring out the home videos. Just wait until you hear what her first word was, you’ll just die.”

Mitsuri really couldn’t wait to be invited back and she would be sure to arrive extra early.

“Kanae didn’t say anything weird to you just now, right?” Shinobu asked, eyeing Mitsuri suspiciously as they walked down the sidewalk hand in hand.

“Nope!” Mitsuri squeaked, her tone and sweaty hand giving her away.

Shinobu groaned, bumping her head against Mitsuri’s bicep, “You’re going to owe me a lot more than baby pictures if I ever find out what she’s plotting.”

“Every bit of me is yours. You can ask for whatever you want from me as penance in return for whatever trouble Kanae gets us into.”

Shinobu smiled shyly before she sighed and shook her head, nuzzling Mitsuri’s arm, “Just remember that you owe me baby pictures. In fact, I think you owe me every cute picture and video of yourself that you can find.”

“I will have them all laid out for you tomorrow.” Mitsuri promised.

That night when Mitsuri had crawled into bed, she practically had to smother herself to keep her squees of delight quiet as she rolled around beneath her covers and scrolled through her phone, trying to decide which of Shinobu’s precious photos to change her home screen to.

[twelvegrimmyplace]

Nick Grimshaw looks back: ‘Rihanna, Kate, Naomi – Mum was never fazed by them. But she did lose it over Alan Titchmarsh’

The broadcaster and his mother recreate an old photo and recall their wild nights out together

Born in Oldham in 1984, Nick Grimshaw is a presenter best known for his time on BBC Radio 1, as well as his mischievous charm and A-list social circle. Starting his career as a runner for MTV, he went on to present T4, became a judge on the X Factor, hosted the Radio 1 Breakfast show and now has a culinary podcast, Dish. He lives with his fiance, the dancer Meshach Henry, in London with his two dogs. His memoir, Soft Lad, is out now.

Eileen

Nick always wanted to be the centre of attention, and was a very comical child. In that picture, he was probably eight, and it would have been Children In Need night. When that happened, my God, he made everyone sit down. He’d get you nuts, crisps and sweets, and you’d have to watch the whole lot. He’d get obsessed like that with everything – television, radio, music. There was a dog book fad, too. He knew off by heart every breed and he’d take it to church when we went to mass, hiding it inside the hymn book so nobody could see.

Nick’s talkative. It was like switching the light on in the morning, then it was all day, nonstop. He was known for it, and would get in trouble at school because of it. He knew from a young age that he wanted to get a job at Radio 1. He said: “That’s where I’m going to work” and his dad replied: “Mmm, you and a million other kids.” But Nick stuck by it.

As well as chatting, he was in a band, playing the cornet. It was terrible. When I’d get my friends round – there’s a group of nine of us, we call it Girls’ Night – Nick would worm his way in. The cornet would come out. Once or twice he’d say: “I don’t want you to look at me while I do it,” so he’d have his back to us. He was way out of tune and we’d be bursting not to laugh but his dad would say: “Brilliant! Fantastic!” He got thrown out of the band in the end and I had to try to talk them into letting him back in.

When he left home for university we thought we’d gone deaf because it was so quiet. His house was a dump. You’d wipe your feet when you came out – it was atrocious. Then he was off to London. He wouldn’t really tell me what was happening down there – he’d just say he was handing out flyers.

I didn’t see a lot of him back then, but sometimes he’d bring his friends up for Christmas. Nick asked if Amy Winehouse could come one year. I said: “Why?” He said: “Well, she’s got nowhere to go.” She didn’t come in the end, but I did speak to her when she rang the house phone.

Nick’s very thoughtful. Even more so as he’s got older. He’s grown up, and I now see him settled with Meshach, and they’re so lovely together. My friends all say I’m so lucky he wants to include me in everything he does. I’ve had some brilliant holidays with him, but when I visit him in London it’s always a bit full-on. I get there and he says: “Don’t worry, we’ll have a nice quiet weekend” but it never is. He’s bumping into people, or there’s a party and we’re not home until quarter to six the next morning. It’s exhausting, but I do think, you know what? While I’m fit and able to, I’m going to enjoy it.

Nick

That was the prime spot in our lounge. I was getting ready to watch the telly and cuddle with Eileen. The green mark on my hand was from painting – possibly a frog. My milk teeth hadn’t fallen out but my adult teeth started growing – so you can see a single fang in the picture. My family were like: “Oh that’s horrible! That’s so gross.” They used to call me Wolf Boy. How mean.

I was enjoying my life at this point. I loved primary school. It was in a bungalow, and it didn’t feel as if I was doing actual work, just running around seeing gerbils or a stray dog. We’d do skipping or play rounders or welly chucking. It was about this time that I got into Hardcore Ecstasy – a rave compilation that I loved. At secondary school I had friends but I was never in a clique or a gang, and I wonder if it’s because my reference points were off because of my older brother and sister’s influence. I was less excited about the Spice Girls because I was like: “Yeah, but have you heard the Slits?” Pretty annoying. I obviously also loved Girls’ Night.

I don’t know what it was about cities, but I always wanted to be somewhere bigger. I grew up in suburban Oldham and enjoyed the chaos of going to central Manchester. Once I realised I wanted to do radio, I knew I had to go to London. It seemed there was so much life for young people there versus being on my mum and dad’s watch, listening to wood pigeons and having a potato hash for tea. I wanted a racket.

I ended up meeting Mairead [Nash] and Tabitha [Denholm] from Queens of Noize when I was doing student radio. That night we went out together and didn’t come back for 24 hours. My friend Jenny dropped me off the next day at my parents’ and my dad was in the front garden. As the car pulled up he said: “Where the bloody hell have you been? Look at the bleeding state of you!” I looked straight ahead and said: “Drive on.” He chased me down the road with clippers and I hid at Jenny’s. London was such a big fast city, so the friends I made I bonded with quickly. When I was unemployed, me and Amy [Winehouse] would get drunk in the day in Camden, and Mairead and Tabitha really looked after me. Sadie [Frost], too.

When my dad died [in 2016], a family friend, Sarah, said to think of it as the start of a new sort of relationship with my mum. We could be adults together rather than mother and son. I was worried about her feeling alone after such a monumental change, but we ended up becoming good friends and she’d come out with me to parties, or we’d go away with Sadie’s family.

Mum was never fazed by any of my friends. Once I took her to a Stella McCartney fashion week dinner and everyone famous was there – Rihanna, Kate, Naomi. None of it bothered her, although it was good gossip for her when she got back home and could tell Girls’ Night how gorgeous they all were. That being said, she did lose it when she met Alan Titchmarsh. The night before, I’d taken her to DJ with me at one of [stylist and journalist] Katie Grand’s fashion parties and we ended up having a big night. I was so hungover the next day when we were supposed to go to the Chelsea flower show together, that we ended up getting drunk there to get over it. Then she saw Alan. She was like: Alan! Alan! Weak at the knees for Alan.

My mum has also been a victim of many pranks on the radio. Once Alan Carr called her and said he was a casting agent who wanted to know if she’d like to be Pauline Quirk’s mother in Broadchurch. Another time, I called and said I had all these demands for when I visited next: that I wanted a kilo of wheatgrass and an ostrich egg. It was so funny that we made a song on Radio 1 of my mum going “Wheatgrass?” over banging techno.

When I was younger, I’d call her when I needed something – and also because contractually you should ring your mum. Then I called her for pranks. Now I phone every day because I want to gossip or to hear her news. Even though I’ll keep taking her along to parties, my favourite thing is still staying at home watching telly with Eileen.

[source]