#probably ooc lmao

[allaboardthevespa]

Unconditionally

I got bored, and I suddenly felt the urge to write some really sappy (with some angst) Milo Murphy’s Law fluff. I know who Melissa should end up with is a matter of debate, but I’m a proud Team Zalissa member so this fanfic will be about that. Milossa or Bradlissa fans, sorry, but hope you can enjoy this nonetheless. I wasn’t sure what to call this at first, but I listened to the Katy Perry song “Unconditionally” and my brain was like YES so here.

I’m not proud of how this ends, but eh, my brain sucks at ending things. Just hope y’all enjoy this bit of adorable sickfic fluff ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

WARNING: contains relatively graphic scenes of vomit…and becomes extremely tooth-rotting fluff

-- 

It was an ordinary day in Danville – or as ordinary as it could be with the Murphy family’s usual chaos. Milo and Zack’s walk to school had been a heck of a ride, as usual. Runaway concrete pipes, surfing on busted plumbing, falling off cliffs, the whole nine yards. But, as is the norm for Milo Murphy and his friends, everything worked out and they got to school in the nick of time.

 But of course, it didn’t take long for them to realize someone was missing.

 As the students sat in class waiting for Ms. Murawski, Milo looked between him and Zack and noticed a conspicuously empty seat. “Hey, wait a minute,” asked the jinx, “Where’s Melissa?” “I have no idea,” replied Zack, scratching the back of his head in confusion. The other students surrounding them began chattering among themselves, wondering what could’ve happened to the rough-and-tumble redhead. “Maybe she blocked one of her chakras?” Mort suggested with a shrug. Bradley facepalmed, “Mort, she’s not a hippie like you are. She doesn’t do chakras.” “MAYBE DRAKO GOT HER!” panicked Chad, shivering like a leaf and covering his head with his hands. “Don’t panic, everyone,” Amanda cut in, “Knowing what happens in this town, she’s probably caught up in time-travel shenanigans to save a cart of pistachios or something.”

 “Pipe down, class!” came an adult voice. The kids turned to see Ms. Murawski entering the room, just hanging up a phone. “I know you’ve all noticed that Melissa Chase is missing today. Well, it’s simple. She’s just come down with a stomach ache and can’t come in today. No matter, she’ll be able to catch up some other day.” She took out a pencil, “Now, turn your textbooks to page 421.”

 As the other students got to reading, Milo turned to look at Melissa’s empty chair. “That’s too bad,” he sighed, “I don’t even remember the last time she got sick.” He turned to look out the window. “Poor Melissa. She must be feeling pretty down right now.” “Yeah…” Zack agreed, looking crestfallen. “I wish I could help out.” “Well, if you want to, you could,” Amanda suddenly spoke up, “It’s just a little science work, you don’t need to worry about missing it. I think Melissa would be happy to have a little company today.” “Yeah,” Milo agreed with Amanda, “Besides…I’m sure you would love to have a little…” He cleared his throat sarcastically, before giving a smug grin, “Quality time with her.” “Oh, of course,” laughed Amanda, as snickers and ‘oooooh’s went up around the rest of the classroom. Zack flushed a beet-red, flustered by Milo’s joke. “Yes, yes, I’m aware of the, ahem, ‘chemistry’,” he chuckled bashfully, “Alrighty. If you think I should go hang out with her, I’ll go. She could use the company.” “You go, Zack!” cheered Milo, as Zack went to Murawski’s beloved front desk.

 “Excuse me, Ms…may I be excused? I need to use the restroom,” Zack innocently asked, hiding his lie expertly well. “Fine, very well,” Murawski huffed, “Just don’t get lost.” “Thanks, Ms,” he chirped, waving goodbye to the students as he left the room. The moment he slipped out, he scanned the halls for the arrow sign that was labeled “Way Out”, and the minute he saw it, he scampered in that direction. He heard hall monitors yelling at him to not run in the halls, but he couldn’t give less of a damn. Detention could wait. He had a friend to help.

 --

 After a lot of running and following directions on his phone, Zack had arrived in the street where Melissa and her single father lived. Seeing Mr. Chase standing outside his house watering a bush, Zack got on his way to talk to him when he suddenly noticed a butterfly flitting in front of him. Zack watched it fly upwards and noticed it settle on a tree branch covered in wisteria flowers – and an idea registered in Zack’s mind. He reached up and grabbed a small branch covered in a healthy amount of the flowers, wrapped the wood in some tissue paper he brought with him, and wrapped a bow around the flowers to keep them straight. Holding tightly onto the bouquet, he soon made it to the house he was looking for.

 As Mr. Chase was minding his own business, watering that bush, he heard a familiar voice. “Hey, Mr. Chase!” He turned off the hose and whipped around to see Zack, politely standing at his gate with a bouquet of wisteria flowers in hand. “Oh, hello, Zack,” greeted the firefighter, “I imagine you heard about my daughter?” “Yeah, tough break,” Zack replied in a sympathetic tone. “When I heard, I thought I could come down and cheer her up.” “Oh, how nice,” Mr. Chase smiled, “Melissa doesn’t get sick often, but she’s always miserable when she does. I think she’ll be happy to have a friend with her.” “I thought so too,” Zack nodded, following his crush’s father to the door. “Thanks for letting me come around,” he thanked with a grateful wave. “No problem,” the older man replied, “Any friend of my daughter’s is a friend of mine. Hope you two have fun.” “Bye, Mr. Chase,” Zack waved at him as he walked up the stairs to his friend’s room.

 --

 It had not been a fun morning for Melissa. When she awoke, the stomach pain had hit her in full force, and it didn’t take long for her father to realize how out of sorts she was. Neither of them liked when she got sick, but Melissa had a special hatred for the concept of illness. She was a real go-getter, and the thought of having to stay in bed for hours on end and not enjoy her usual hobbies made her feel even sicker than she was already.

 But the worst part of being sick in bed is that, without her mind being preoccupied by daily events caused by school and Murphy’s Law, it tended to wander to some uncomfortable places…and asked some tough questions she didn’t know if she had the answers to.

 Was Milo always gonna be able to keep himself prepared for every situation? 

Will his bad luck come to bite him in a way he can’t protect himself from?

Should she even be asking these questions?

Would Milo WANT her asking these questions?

 The internal crisis she was having made the stress she had grow all the more, and her stomach’s pain intensified with it.

 Melissa was holding her head in distress and shutting her eyes tightly, in a vain attempt to block out those awful questions, when she heard her door creak open. Reluctantly, she slowly opened one of her eyes…and suddenly her heart skipped a beat at who she saw waiting for her in the doorway. She gently pulled herself up from her hunched state as her eyes met his, and gently mumbled “Z-Zack? Is that…really you?” Zack let out a quiet laugh, “Of course it’s me, buddy. I heard you were sick, and I knew I had to be there for you. You are my best friend, after all.” Melissa didn’t notice it, but her cheeks were heating up with a bright red blush as the compliment warmed her heart and soul. “You…really mean that?” she asked, giving a genuine smile. Zack couldn’t help blushing himself at the sight of Melissa giving him a sweet, happy smile with her cheeks tinged red. It was completely adorable.

 To respond to her question, Zack revealed the bouquet of wisteria flowers he’d picked on his way. “If I didn’t mean it, would I get you these?” He approached her in her bed and gently knelt down to her level, “Milo’s told me you love flowers, so when I saw these in your neighborhood, I figured I’d get you a little something.” Melissa gave an adorably surprised gasp, then, as quickly as she could, reached over to grab the bouquet with a cute little giggle. “Wow, I…” she stammered, caressing some of the petals, “That’s really sweet of you.” “It’s the least I could do for you being such a great friend,” Zack responded, watching happily as his best friend held the wisteria bouquet to her chest and face and inhaled deeply. “I’m glad you like them.” “Thanks, Zack,” Melissa gave him the cutest smile ever, “I’m glad you’re here for me.” “Well,” responded the former boyband member, “What are best friends for?”

 --

 From then on, in the following hours, the two best friends made the most of their time together. The two played all sorts of games, shared all sorts of stories, and just being two kids happy in one another’s company. Zack enjoyed every moment, yet throughout it all he couldn’t stop himself taking his eyes off his best friend. Her smile warmed his heart, her giggles were absolutely adorable, and every so often she’d briefly stop what she was doing, turn around and smell the flowers he’d brought her, now sat comfortably in a vase on her bedside table. That was another thing he found to be adorable. It wasn’t often that he saw the redhead able to just loosen up and be a goofball when they weren’t busy trying to stop Murphy’s Law from causing mayhem, but when they got the chance to just be kids, it was something both of them made the most of.

 It was during a quiet break from their fun that things began to take an unexpected turn.

 Zack was watching his best friend cuddled up in her bed, stroking her hair gently, when an uncomfortable-sounding groan emitted from her stomach, and she abruptly shot up and looked at him with a deer-in-the-headlights look. “What’s the matter?” asked Zack, gently grasping her hands. “I…I dunno,” Melissa panted, before she clutched her stomach out of instinct. “I…I’ve never felt l-like this…” She took a shaky breath, “But I feel like I…ugh!” She cringed, and without thinking raised a hand to her mouth. Zack connected the dots right away. He didn’t think they’d be able to make it to the bathroom fast enough at this point. Luckily, his eyes floated to a spare empty flower vase not yet filled with wysterias or whatever other flowers she liked. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do. He scrambled over and grabbed it, before giving it to Melissa, and sat next to her once more.

 Melissa opened her mouth to say something, but abruptly, she hunched herself over and heaved unpleasantly. Zack couldn’t help cringing, but he knew he had to provide some semblance of comfort. It looked like this was a new experience for her. He gently rubbed her back as each painful retch came, making sure she knew he was there for her even in a time like this. Melissa’s mind didn’t register much else in that moment other than the horrible feeling of her throat and stomach expunging the nasty liquid from her body, and, in sharp contrast, the warm, soft, gentle touch of her best friend.

 In reality, it only took 30 seconds for the retching to stop. To Melissa, it felt like an eternity. Nonetheless, when she was sure she was done, she pulled her head back from the vase and wiped her brow as she set the now puke-filled vase aside. She breathed heavily in an attempt to clear her mind, as what just happened played itself over and over again in her head. She’d never experienced something like that before, and she never wanted to again. Luckily, though, she had her best friend right nearby. Getting a little closer to the sickly go-getter, Zack gently asked her “How do you feel?” Coughing a little, Melissa turned to Zack with a look of pure pain in her eyes. “I…I…” she wiped her brow again, “What…was that? T-that was horrible…” “Relax, Melissa,” Zack did his best to comfort her, “You just vomited. No big deal, it happens to you sometimes if you’re stomach-sick.” “B-But I…” the redhead whimpered, “Th-that hasn’t happened to me before…My dad told me about it when I was super young, and cuz I don’t get sick that often…I never THOUGHT it would happen…” She sighed, “Man, I feel like a dummy now.” Feeling his heart hurt for Melissa’s sorry state, Zack pulled her into a hug, “Hey…you’re no dummy. If this is your first time ever vomiting, no wonder your mind’s in a daze like this. You’ll be alright. You’re always alright, aren’t you?” He put a hand on one of her shoulders and comfortingly looked into her beautiful blue eyes.

 Until she said two words that threw him for a loop…

 “Not really.”

 Zack’s mind took a moment to register what Melissa had just said. Those two, little, mumbled words. “Not really.” What was she implying? Was it what Zack was thinking? No, there’s no way, Melissa was the toughest girl he’d ever known. But, why else would she say that? Gently, he got closer to her, and gently gazed into her eyes, ignoring the blush on his face, and asked “What do you mean by…’not really’?” Melissa flinched a little, not knowing where to begin. The questions in her mind were roaring to get out, and she had to let someone know. She was tired of suffering in silence.

 At that moment, Melissa gently grabbed Zack’s shoulders and began to speak, knowing he’d be there to listen.

 And all the words came flying out.

 “…Zack, I’m scared. I’ve always BEEN scared. Ever since I became Milo’s best friend, I’ve always been worrying myself like crazy about him, worrying that someday he’s gonna get caught in some insane Murphy’s Law accident that he’s not ready for and he’ll get hurt…or worse. And I know it’s really fucking stupid cause it’s goddamn Milo and he’s ALWAYS prepared, but I can’t help myself. And I just feel like a big jerk because Milo wouldn’t WANT me to be worried about him all the time. He’s…fine with the way things are and doesn’t want them to change…but…” She took a shaky breath, and sighed lowly, “I do.” Zack now reached up and rubbed her shoulders as she continued talking, “I don’t want Milo to be stuck with Murphy’s Law. I want him to live and be happy, without always having to look over his shoulder in case of stampeding bison or angry crossing guards or other shit like that. But Milo…he just doesn’t want that…and I feel like a selfish idiot who tries to act like she knows what’s best for everyone…but…” She glanced up, and Zack’s heart leapt at what he saw…

 The toughest, smartest kid he’d known in his life…strong, brave, a born leader with a near-permanent smile…

 She was crying.

 “I just…” she whimpered, not even bothering to wipe away the hot tears streaking down her face, “I feel like such a selfish jackass who doesn’t know what Milo or even you want in your lives…I just don’t want to lose him, or you, or anyone…” She shut her eyes tightly and let a fresh wave of tears out, “And I’ve been lying to you about how I’ve been feeling this whole time…because I just don’t want you guys to see what a fucking mess I really am!” “You’re not a mess-” Zack tried to interrupt, only for Melissa to cut him off. “No, don’t…don’t keep the lie going any longer than it has to…” she sobbed, “I act like I’m tough, but…I’m just a terrified wreck of a person who can’t stand the thought of losing the people she cares about…that’s me. That’s selfish, paranoid, obnoxious Melissa Lily Chase…”

 With that, the broken redhead turned away and started sobbing all-out into her hands, her limbs shaking with every loud sob echoing from her body. She could feel the burn of hot tears rushing down her face, dripping from the tip of her nose onto her bed. Between every choked sob, she tried to take some breaths as if to calm herself, but all attempts failed as the tears kept on coming.

 With every sob Melissa let out, Zack could feel his heart sink a little more. There was a part of him who still couldn’t believe this. How long had Melissa been keeping these feelings at bay? Did she really think that badly of herself just for being worried about Milo? His mind raced with questions, but he honestly couldn’t give less of a damn about getting the answers. All that mattered to him was giving support to someone who very badly needed it.

 Without hesitation, Zack gently put his arms around Melissa’s back, gently rubbing her side with one hand and stroking her hair with the other. It took a moment for Melissa to register what Zack was doing, but the moment she did, she felt her muscles gently ease up at the feeling of his warm embrace. She could still feel her cheeks and nose wet from all the crying she’d been doing, and flushed a little in embarrassment. “I, uh…” she tried to break the silence, “I’m sorry you had to see me like this.” “You don’t need to apologize,” Zack told her gently, “I just wonder why you hadn’t spoken up about your feelings before. Milo’s an understanding guy, he’d be happy to listen to your worries.” “I just…” she sniffled, “I just don’t want Milo to start worrying about what goes on in my head all the time…and I don’t wanna seem like a controlling bitch.” Without warning, Zack put a hand over her mouth the moment she said the word “bitch”. He turned Melissa around to look at him and looked intently into her eyes, and spoke his mind.

 “Listen to me, Melissa. You are not a ‘bitch’. You have never been a bitch. You’re worrying yourself that you’re a terrible person because you actually want what’s best for Milo! There’s nothing wrong with that. I know Milo is fine with the way things are but if you’re not, that’s completely okay. We may not be able to change Murphy’s Law, but we’ll always be able to help Milo throughout everything, and I know that cuz you’ve been doing that for seven years now, and I know you can keep doing that.” He gave her the warmest smile he could manage, despite the fact he now had tears of his own welling up in his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with being scared, Melissa – as long as you don’t let it change who you are.”

 In that moment, both 13-year-olds found themselves gazing into one another’s tearful eyes. Then, without another word, Melissa got closer to Zack and collapsed into his arms, wrapping her arms around his back. It didn’t take long for Zack to return the embrace, rubbing her back gently to soothe her emotions. They stayed there, in silence, for what felt like hours. Neither of them said a word. They didn’t have to, not right now at least. All they needed right now was right in front of them.

 After so long of being locked in that embrace, Melissa pulled back a little, wiping one more tear from her face, before gently cupping her hands around Zack’s own face and tilted his head up so their eyes could lock once more. Both of them smiled tenderly as the tension that was in their minds evaporated.

Of course, there was just one more thing Melissa felt the need to say…

 “Hey,” she whispered, getting Zack’s full attention. She now moved her hands down to gently clasp his own, and gave him a soft smile, grateful for all of what he’d done for her, not just today but in all the time they’d spent together in the past. She took one more deep breath as if to mentally prepare herself, and spoke the three magic words.

 “I love you.”

 There was a brief moment where Zack felt surprised, but that quickly gave way to an indescribable feeling of happiness, and it didn’t take long for him to respond.

 “I love you too.”

 Without hesitating for a moment, the tomboyish nerd and the dorky jock soon embraced one another in a long, soft kiss, tears of joy now streaming down their faces. Zack brought a hand up to gently caress Melissa’s cheek while Melissa put her arms around his back, deepening the kiss further.

 Once they needed to break for oxygen, the two gently separated their lips, still having their noses touching. Suddenly a knock sounded at the door, and both of them flushed a bit before scrambling off each other – but they were still smiling widely after their passionate love display. The door opened and revealed Mr. Chase with a large cup of tea in hand. “Here you go, sweetie,” he spoke, bringing it over to his daughter, “I made you some tea. See if it helps your stomach.” “Thanks, Dad,” Melissa giggled a little in response. Zack couldn’t help blushing a little at how adorable he found that little laugh of hers. Mr. Chase now thought back to earlier and cringed a little, “I heard what sounded like vomiting earlier. Isn’t that your first time? I hope everything’s okay.” Melissa gave an awkward shrug, “It was scary at first, but…it wasn’t so bad. Especially since Zack was with me.” A sincere smile crossed her face, as she looked over at her best friend-turned-boyfriend, then at her loving father. “I know it sounds weird, but…this has been one of the happiest days I’ve had in a long time. Thank you both, so much. I’m so glad I have you both and Milo and everyone else in my life.” Zack and Mr. Chase now both brought Melissa into a group hug, and the former Lumberzack gently thanked her himself, “And thank you for being in ours.”

The End

[pigeonstab]

@somegrumpynerd :3c Cross getting his first toy ever

I think it's the kind of thing he brings everywhere cuz it's his comfort item.. and he's never had a comfort item before

[cordyce]

ao’nung is frustrated.

at least, that’s what you’ve deduced from watching him sharpen his knife for the past ten minutes straight. if he keeps going, it might get as thin as a wish bone; threatening to snap at the slightest bit of pressure. as much as you’d find amusement in the sight of that, you’d rather not be in the crossfire when it happens.

“what’s got you caught in its net?” you ask, finally, as you drop the gear you’ve been mending while ao’nung simmers.

“funny,” he mutters, but mirth is not something found in his tone. another scrape, another grating. he does not look over at you.

“i know. i’m the funniest person alive. you should be grateful you have the opportunity to bask in my presence.”

it’s a ploy—a tease. like waving fresh bait in front of a young ilu but never tossing it into the water for them to eat. your tactic with ao’nung is always the same. push and pull and prod just enough that he bites back with less venom and more demure. because sarcasm is better than spite, in all regards.

except now, he doesn’t take it. now, he simply keeps his head tucked down, his lips pressed in a hard line. whittling at his knife and spouting invisible steam out of his ears.

you stand up, make your way over to him and bend slightly at the waist to slide your hands along his sloped shoulders. his muscles go taut—just a bit—at the initial contact of your palms, but relax a second later. not to their resting state, no, but leaving the field of caught off guard at the very least. you hum, lean down further as you dip your hands over his clavicles, across the upper half of his sternum.

“what is wrong, ao‘nung?” its sincere, this time. your question. because despite the dynamic between the two of you, you really do care—jokes and jabs aside.

this silence is different. you can tell by the twitch of his ears that he’s thinking; mulling something over on his tongue before he decides whether to spit it out or swallow it down. you can never guess which one it will be, not with him. he acts on whims, never strategy. there is no speculating his next move, so you simply don’t try to.

“there has been talk among the reef.” it’s all he says; all he gives. such a shell of a man, forcing you to pry open his jaws to reach the pearl within.

it is good that you’ve always been so skilled with your hands.

“there is always talk among the reef,” you chuckle, begin to fiddle with the necklace that’s strung around his neck. hooking your chin over the top of his head, you look down to watch as he grinds his knife once again. “you know they like to keep their minds busy with silly things.”

“it isn’t a silly thing.”

“oh? then tell me, what is so dire that it could have the great ao’nung this tense, hm?”

his hands falter for the first time, a pause in his rhythmic grazing. your brows furrow at that, create a hairline crease in the middle that only smooths out as he resumes his motions. scrape, scrape, scrape again. it’s like he’s doing it in sync with his heart. if you shifted your hand over just a tad, you suppose you could test that theory.

“it is talk of you.”

quiet. a mere grumble under his breath. if you were not leaned over him like this you would not have even heard him. such an odd twinge to his tone; laced with something you can’t quite decipher. can’t quite pick up on. it isn’t necessarily anger, but something flirting along the lines of it.

“me? don’t tell me you have went around spreading rumors that i am possessed by eywa’s evil sister again. i thought you stopped that when we were kids.” you laugh through it, because the jagged edges of his timbre are making your fingers itch. “you’re going to ruin my reputation.”

he scoffs. condescending, dismissive. normally you’d take that as a good sign; a call back to his regular grating demeanor. at this specific moment, however, you find annoyance in it.

“your reputation is fine,” he tilts, gives a particularly harsh press of his knife that makes you think this just might be the time where it snaps. miraculously, it doesn’t. “so completely fine.”

“then what could they possibly find reason to speak of me for?” you press, rubbing your thumb over the cord of his necklace, twisting it around your fingers. “i have not caused any trouble lately. haven’t set fire to any maruis. why, there’s nothing that i can think of that could possibly warrant—“

“they speak of your lack of mate.”

his hands are working harder, less refined. jaw clenching, deltoids growing stiff below you. it’s all starting to air itself out, his jaws have cracked open just enough that you can finally see the pretty pink pearl that rests on the bed of his tongue. but it is not enough, not yet.

“then all they speak is the truth,” you shrug over him, keep your gaze locked on his movements. you want to be sure, before you jump to the assumptions that are creating hurdles in your mind. “there is no harm in speaking of public knowledge.”

“they—“ he hitches, twists his face up like his next words are sour on his tastebuds, “they are voicing their thoughts on potentials for you. they think.. rotxo is the best option.”

“oh, yes. rotxo would be a fine potential mate.”

and, ah. there it is. the coup de grace.

ao’nung snaps his head around towards you so fast you hardly have time to lean back to avoid getting smacked in the chin by his skull. there’s a fissure between his brows, his eyes have widened past the aggravated slits they were before. his mouth is cracked open in disbelief, of the fact that you agreed with him or another matter, you aren’t sure. either way, it is clear now what has been getting under the heir’s skin.

he's jealous. and you can't help but find that the slightest bit amusing. it's not often you have ao'nung in the palm of your hand like this; akin to a bug squirming under the pad of your thumb with no clear route of escape. you think you can play this up, just a little.

"you do not think that," he states, like he needs to speak it into existence. like if he says it then it will ring true, change your mind.

(he doesn't need to change your mind, but he doesn't need to know that right now).

"why would i not?" you hum, tip your head like you're truly contemplating it. "he is sweet. has a tender heart. and he is always so quick to help me. he doesn't even complain. i think taking him as a mate would be a good decision."

"the only thing good about rotxo is his hair," ao'nung spouts, rolls his eyes at you as his face fills up with indignation. "stupid, pretty boy goody two shoes."

"oh, you're right! and he's nice to look at," you agree, nod your head right along with it, "how could i forget?"

his cheek dips; he's sucking it in between his teeth. you've really done it, you think. setting him off has never been so easy. sure, it’s never too hard to get him riled up in the middle of a bickering match. but like this? aggravated over, what, exactly? the thought of you with someone else?

maybe you’re enjoying this a bit too much.

“he is not your type.” a bold proclamation, ao’nung spits out. grasping for straws; searching blindly. “you would not go well with him.”

“i think he is my type, actually,” you dispute, and he’s stopped all his movements now. knife long forgotten as he seethes over every word you speak. “kind. loyal. good morals. easy on the eyes. yes, definitely my type. that checks off the list.”

he purses his lips, knots up his brows. “that cannot be the list.”

“no?” you peruse, play into him. he makes this too easy, really. “what do you think is on the list, then? moody? messy? long hair? a tendency to be mouthy? being the chief’s son?”

that earns you a shove off of him; a click for him to realize you’ve been fucking with him this entire time. biting back your shit eating grin would be impossible so you don’t even try to. nor do you stop the laughter that bubbles out of you as he goes back to his knife work and curses you under his breath.

you reach for him again except this time you walk around until you’re in front of him. one hand on his shoulder, you lean down to shove the knife and sharpener out of his hands and plop yourself right into the slot his crossed legs have made. his gaze is narrowed at you, his lips jutted. you simply smile—innocent, sweet—as you slide your hands around to cup the nape of his neck.

“i don’t think rotxo could handle me,” you murmur, sickeningly saccharine in such a direct contrast from seconds before. ao’nung doesn’t budge. “and the good ones are always so boring. if he was my mate, when would i ever get the chance to get up to trouble?”

“you are trouble,” ao’nung scoffs; acting annoyed, fed up. but his hands give him away as they meet the dimples of your lower back, as they slide up your spine to hold you secure so you don’t fall backwards.

his facade of pretending to not care has never been too full proof. there’s been cracks in that glass since day one.

“your trouble,” you grin. your fingers begin to draw circles along the back of his neck, tease at his hairline. “you made me this way, you know.”

“i made you nothing,” he rebuts. “you are the one who always comes up with the pesky ideas that get us scolded.”

“ah, you’re right,” you agree with a faux sigh. “humor and brains. i guess i’m the funniest and smartest person alive. truly, you should be honored.”

ao’nung rolls his eyes, peels his hands off of you. “forget ability, i do not wish to handle you now. rotxo can have you, for all i care.”

“oh?” you quirk, begin to stand up. “should i go see what he is up to—“

“sit,” ao’nung orders before you can rise no more than a few inches off of his lap; hands gripping your waist to tug you back down. the playfulness drains from his eyes, that annoyance—jealousy—flashes across sea foam irises for just a moment. “you are not funny.”

you bite the edge of your lip, making your grin turn slanted. he is so fun to tease, to toss around. his palms are warm on the dip of your waist. sliding your hands further back, you skim your finger along the side of the braid encasing his queue. faint, light. he tries to hide the shiver it causes but you pick up on it regardless. and that only makes you grin wider.

“they will speak of me until i choose a mate,” you hum as you lean closer to him, minimize the distance between your faces. “rotxo is not the only name that will be paired with mine. they all like to place their bets, you know.”

“their bets are stupid,” ao’nung mutters; gruff and rumbling out of his chest as his attention flickers, falters, the closer you get.

being this close is nothing new. being this touchy is nothing new, either. but it’s almost like your skin is buzzing, your energies feeding off one another in the moment that sends you tumbling into a smug streak. or maybe, that’s just the power ao’nung holds over you and you’re scared to admit it.

“you only think they’re stupid because your name is being outnumbered in the betting pool.” maybe that’s a little mean, but it’s fun. your fingertips are heavier now, more directed as you trace the divots of his braid with one hand and gauge the rise and fall of his chest with the other. “if you were winning, would they be stupid then?”

“i am winning,” ao’nung conveys, so sure and lacking any sense of doubt in the slightest; a variance from a few moments before. and that, well, that actually makes you falter—for just a second.

“and how do you figure that?” you mumble out the question into the minute slot between the two of you. bated and breathy.

ao’nung hooks an arm around your waist, his other hand sliding up to grip the hinge of your jaw. not harsh, not rough, but firm. cradling you carefully but securely; solidly. your breath hitches, your fingers pause on their skimming across his queue encasing.

“because i am the only one who gets to do this,” he says. blunt and honest and certain as he closes the gap severing you.

he kisses you full and deep and warm. he kisses you like he has not eaten in days and you are the one thing that can sate his hunger. he kisses you like the ocean kisses the shore; yearning and all consuming, and rushing back once more as soon as their lips must part.

and he does; chase your lips as you pull back to catch your breath. places one, two, three pecks there before he deems it a safe retreat. his eyes are lidded, but no longer from frustration. that signature crooked, haughty smirk of his is curved into his pale lips. and instead of smacking it off, you’re considering how many more kisses it would take to wipe it away.

“oh yeah,” he chuckles, lips brushing over yours as he’s already leaning in again. “so winning.”

and you can’t help but agree.

likes & reblogs appreciated !

[toffeesbabbles]

redrew the other doodle on this post but I made it even more silly

(fell by underfella and killer by @/rahafwabas)

[thekansta]

A rare smiling fangxin

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #142 Part 2

His parents had spent years working on their portal, to the point where they were neglecting their own children. Danny didn’t know any better, neither did Jazz. To them it was just how their family ran and for the most part it worked for them. It allowed Danny to really study space and the Stars. His room was covered with different ship models on the shelves, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling and posters on the walls.

Jazz had similarly explored her own thoughts and topics as she studied Psychology. Her room was more feminine but still had a certain scientific decorum to it.  

He never thought that he’d suddenly be ripped from all the things he loved. But here he was with the trench coat man, instead of taking some biology class or something.

“What happened with the portal?” Danny asked.

The man took a long sigh, “listen… quite a lot of shit went down after your accident.” 

“That tells me nothing,” Danny glared at the man.

“I get your upset kid, but let me at least know your name. Mine's John Constantine,” 

“…Danny,” Danny muttered after a moment. He wasn’t sure he trusted the man but he guessed he had no choice. He was also noticing he felt a bit off, it was the weirdest gut feeling and Danny was having trouble telling exactly what the feeling was. It was like the feeling was telling him to trust John, although at the same time John had this weird feeling about him that had Danny feeling weary. He decided to trust John just a little, hopefully it got him back home, after a moment Danny spoke again, “…Can you at least tell me if the portal worked?”

The room was silent for a moment and then John spoke “Alright, fine, I’ll tell you what happened but some background first, do you know who the ancients are?” 

The name didn’t sound familiar, “Ancients? Like Ancient Aliens or something?” 

“No, no…” John took a swig from a flask in his pocket and then started fiddled with an unlit cigarette he pulled from a different pocket. He then looked Danny up and down, “You don’t know the first thing about the infinite realms do you?”

“The what?” None of this was making any sense and the more Danny talked to this guy the more he was getting a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Something about this conversation felt wrong, like Danny should know all of this already but he just didn’t. 

“Right well… I guess the easiest way to explain this is the portal your parents made was to the infinite realms.” John said, putting the cigarette in his mouth.

“My parents called it the Ghost Zone.” Danny muttered.

John seemed to chuckle at that, “I mean it is mainly inhabited by ghosts, however they aren’t the only ones, far from it in fact. I’m sorry but… I couldn’t allow your parents unlimited access to the realms. I had to disable it and prevent it from being reactivated.”

Danny felt a little disheartened after hearing that, he guessed John was probably right though. He remembered hearing his parents talk about how they’d dissect every ghost they found to study them. The bully’s at his school often bullied Danny over it especially after his dad and mom would continually embarrass him on parent teacher nights and on field trips.

Danny let out a small sigh, “so when can I go home?”

John looked a little surprised, his eyebrow quirked up, “so you're unaware of your situation right now?”

“Situation?” Danny trailed off, he remembered getting shocked and then he remembered waking up here, “where are we?”

John let out another sigh, “shit, well from my research you're supposed to know everything about your powers when you wake up.”

This made no sense to Danny, powers? Danny didn’t have powers, he didn't have the meta-gene.

“Powers? I don’t have the meta-gene. I think you have the wrong person.” Danny stated as he folded his arms in front of himself.

“Then how are you floating?” John asked with a smirk.

Danny looked down and he indeed was floating just an inch off the bed, he wondered when that started but the feeling threw him off a little as he stumbled a little trying to keep himself upright. It didn’t work and he fell back down on the bed with a little thud. He turned to see John watching him with a small hint of amusement in his eyes. 

“What am I?” Danny asked, his voice small and a little panicked.

“You, Danny Fenton, are an Ancient. I know the term makes it seem like you're old but the term is more because your people are ancient in age.” The explanation made no sense to Danny but he could somehow float now. He thought the term ‘Ancient’ was a little much for some floating powers.

[nothanksjohnny]

Always the savior never the saved

Can you imagine how exhausted the prefect always feel. Always the polite person, always the considerate. Selfishness and greed bleeds from the rest of the students but so does trauma. And so the prefect can help but try and understand.

Yet it's so exhausting. It's exhausting because they have their own problems. Away from everything they know yet they have to keep to themselves. Weakness can't be shown or the wolves of this campus will eat them alive. Each dorm having tight strings and bared teeth it's nauseating to face them. And yet face them they must.

Overblot after Overblot they can't help but want to give up. Their body aches from being crushed into a wall. The feeling of thorns digging into flesh never leaves their arms. The never ending pounding in their head they seems to floe from two small puncture wounds around their eyebrows. It hurts...it hurts so fucking much yet they have to keep their mouth closed. Like a animal wounded they mustn't shown weakness. Less it lead to their death.

Always the kind hearted, always the generous giving up so much of their time to help those they call friends. Fluttering their eyes to stop tears as a insult is thrown their way if someone is having a hard day. They can't cry. If they do they may never stop, doomed to drown in their tears unable to take a breath. Yet a wounded animal can only fake for so long until they collapse. And yet even then they keep their mouths shut. If they allow themselves to weep they'll be found. They'll be killed.

Exhaustion is all they feel as they take shallow breaths. The aches have gotten worse. Head pounding. A harsh pulse behind their eyes causing them to close. They don't register the cool hand they is full of panic brushing their face. Brushing hair out their face. It's to much to open their eyes. Only enough strength to breath. They don't react when their held close to someone warm chest. The quick beating of a heart. Strong yet scared. It's all to much movement for their tired body. Unable to tense so it remains limp.

The prefect is so tired,so alone and so scared. They can't understand to many whispered begs of forgiveness. Their not sure if they want to. So in return this wounded animal simply keeps their eyes closed and waits for the peace of sleep.

[djevelbl]

Not me rewatching bits of parkciv season 2 bc i LOVE Parkour Villain's speeches--

[toffeebrews]

Any errink headcanons? :D

Tumblr hates me so I had to rewrite this, anyway... [Note: all my hcs ofc nothing is canon but some may be based of canon information! Sometimes I may refer to non-canon past rps :P]

Error and ink do dumb rps with his puppets together, they've made a super dramatic soap opera plot.

I think Ink realizes Error would never change and he's content with that (sigh as much as I would love to say he would).

Ink finds error's six tongues fascinating, rather than gross. In a similar way, error is fascinated by ink's star eyes (I wonder what that hc came from).

If they ever kissed it would be the most disgusting revoltingly thing ever because error doesn't know how to kiss at all and he also has 6 tongues.

If you asked them how they became friends they would just look at you and shrug. Not even they know how to happened. All they can say is they "get eachother." Error deep down has always wanted a friend and Ink gives him that. Ink is willing to deal with error's bs and error is willing to deal with ink's. Ink can feel a little lonely in his own role and among a world that is fake and Error being an outcode like hin understands him a way others wouldn't. Not even mentioning their story parallels but I gotta stop my self before I start rambling. They're some of the only people who know some of other's deep insecurities.

Ink found Error's crashes funny before he knew how absolutely painful they were. Although not sure if he would ever trigger them on purpose even before he knew ngl.

more yapping under the cut

I would define them as whatever happens when you cross a friend an enemy and a partner.

Ink loves all of his shipkids and error... feels very conflicted about all of them.

They also think the other is a freaky than them when in reality they're both freaks.

Error still thinks about when Ink proposed to him at loveball, ink doesn't think about it at all. Ink also proposed to him with a ring pop that he found in the candy bowl in my head LOL.

Ink doesn't mention his dads to him .. maybe out of fear

Other people still make fun of Ink for proposing to error at loveball and ink always goes "IT WAS ONE TIME!"

Error and Ink are both quite short, Error is only a few inches taller than Ink.

Due to loveball, Error is always scared (in a playful way) when Ink starts drinking.

Error does feel guilty for the time he left ink in the antivoid. Not all of the time, but at times when hes sitting with Ink in the anti-void he can't help but reflect on it. If he would ever admit it? Probably not.

Error and ink's dancing at loveball was a beautiful disaster. Ink is actually an okay dancer but because Error was really nervous it threw him off and it was so off beat. It was really cute though, regardless.

Ink finds errorink ship art very amusing and he shows it to error just to freak him out sometimes.

Error always kills ink first in among us. Error also always blames ink as the imposter even if he isn't.

They have a "close but not too close" rule just close enough to feel the warmth of the other person but not enough to touch. (do skeletons give off warmth?). They do hold pinkies though fr fr. Also Error does lay his head in Ink's lap sometimes, typically when they're watching something. Ink may also give Error forehead or hand kisses.

I like to think Error runs quite hot, because he crashes all the time, so hes warm like a computer LOL. Ink who in my hc has a lessen sense of touch and runs sorta cold due to be soulless lovess sitting around him because of it.

Crack headcanon, when error's eyes glitch up or hes about to crash if you really listen you can hear the sound of computer fans going ham.

Ink will often just... walk up to error and put him a different outfit. Something about his being "too basic" and "his outfit has an ugly color palette".

If you know my pinkie sense ink hc Error doesn't know HOW it works but he fully believes him every single time. Even when ink is trolling, LOL!

Error and Ink call eachother "Ruru" and "Kiki" but only to annoy the other. Specifically if ink is pleading for something he'll do it to annoy him "please ruru :(" They also call eachother glitch and squid in a movking as well LOL.

They have friendship rings? platonic rings? idk if those are a thing made from blue string.

In my own error design, he has a big tooth. Because of it ink calls him a "big kitty" to make fun of him.

[miisericorde]

I put a pause on my nonsense to bring you long hair Varre

[drunkeddiediaz]

Just watched the episode.

Here are my thoughts: Eddie gay as hell, Buck and Eddie husbands, Tommy is a nothingburger. L*u still can’t act. Give Eddie a real dick to suck on.

and most importantly: #stoptorturingHENREN2024.

[thevoidlands]

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH WE'RE BACK

[askchilchuck]

Hello there chuckle fuckle. How is your relationship with your father and your mental health?

First of all, don't call me that. Second of all, my father passed quite a while ago, but our relationship was just fine growing up. Third of all, my mental health is none of your business, thank you very much.

[eshithepetty]

So.

This is it, mobsters.... our final stand. When the poll starts on @autismswagsummit, go....... do your part.

[Short ID: a comic pertaining to the autism swag summit, featuring Mob and Tome. Mob reveals that he feels insecure about how seriously everyone's been taking this, and how he's not sure he likes all this attention on him for it, but Tome argues and encourages him, saying that his could help him get Tsubomi's attention, since she's autistic herself, and might appreciate Mob being more confident about that. In the end, Mob brightens up, and gets pumped to win the bracket, before it's revealed that Tsubomi actually hopes Papyrus wins. End short ID]

Extended ID under cut:

[ID: a comic pertaining to the autism swag summit, featuring Mob and Tome. It's done in pink and orange tones, except for the last panel, which is purple.

First page: Mob sits down at the table in the telepathy club room, sighing. Tome, who is playing a video game and eating fries, looks at him and asks: "? What's wrong, Mob?" Mob looks to the side, eyes downcast, and says: "It's nothing really... it's just- the autism contest thing. Everyone's taking it so seriously but- idk. It feels weird. Like Mezato-san's cult thing, kinda." Tome, meanwhile, slides him the fries, and he takes one, and continues, "I don't think I like all this attention on me. Not for this." and Tome looks at him, chin on hand, and asks: "But wasn't that like, one of your main goals? To be popular?"

Second page: at this, Mob startles, and in the next panel he shrinks in as he replies "um- yeah, but. To be honest, I only wanted that to-" and shrinks even further in the next, blushing, trailing off with "to..." Behind him, there is the tapping of footsteps as Tome, off screen, rounds the desk, and makes Mob jump with a loud SLAM, and yells "LISTEN, MOB!" Then, she is looking at him with a frown, gesturing with one hand, and continues: "You need to look at this from a different perspective. What if this is the contest that winning would aid you the most? After all, isn't Takane herself autistic?" Mob, eyes wide and blushing, loudly interrupts with "S-SHE IS??"

Third page: Mob asks, "How do you know??" Tome, her arms crossed, eyes closed and a smirk on her face, says "Look. I'm autistic. You're autistic. We're ALL autistic, I know my kin, alright?" Under her breath, (under the speech bubble) she also adds "Plus I kind of heard her say "Leave me alone, I'm autistic" once," before she interrupts herself, her arms spread wide and flapping, with "but that's beside the point!" She continues in the next panel, only one of her moving hands visible as Mob looks up at her, wide-eyed, "My point is, maybe this is your chance to show her what you're all about; that you know who you are; are secure in your identity, proud of it, even!"

Fourth page: Tome crosses her arms again, a confident smirk on her face as she looks down at Mob and asks, "So tell me. What are you gonna do?" Mob, hunched in, shyly responds, ".... I'm gonna win...?" Off screen, Tome replies: "Say it with more confidence!" And Mob does, back straightening and a blush creeping in: "I- I'm gonna win!" Tome yells "Louder!", and Mob stands up, leaning on the table, yelling in response "I'm gonna WIN!!" And Tome, a fist pumped in enthusiasm, yells back "YEAH!!"

Last panel: Tome's dialogue box is cut off, as we see Tsubomi, meanwhile, laying in her bed, sucking a lollipop and phone in hand, as she thinks: "I hope papyrus wins." End ID.]

[etdraconis]

( every time i tell myself i should send memes to people i don't interact with a lot i get nervous and talk myself out of it )

[abyssembraced]

Head in my hands Beetle I need to steal your Blame Honor tag I think