#random number prompt

[foxgloveinspace]

SamTron Drabble:

From this prompt lists (this one is SPICY)

16) accidental i love you’s during sex

It had been a rushed affair to get where they where, kneeling in the middle of the living room of the apartment Tron had been staying in. Tron hadn’t even had the time to completely unrezz his suit, bits of it still sticking to his shoulders, as Sam rocked his hips forward behind him, his cock sliding between his thighs, pushed up hot and prefect against his central pleasure circuits.

Sam had one arm hooked around his shoulder, pressing him firmly against his chest, his face pressed firmly into Tron’s neck, and he was reveling in it, Sam’s hot breath against his neck, the side of his face. They where pressed so close together that it was like Sam was trying to become one with him. Tron’s hands where wrapped tightly around the arm around him, he knew he was vocalizing, but he wasn’t sure if he was muttering nonsense or fractures of words.

He heard Sam hum, he could tell in the shift of his hips that was close, but his other hand came down and pressed right above where his cock was moving against Tron’s body.

Tron’s whole body shuddered at the added stimulation, almost too much, light leaking at the corner of his eyes, and Sam pressed a kiss to his temple, a shush falling from his lips, and Tron chocked on a wrecked sound, one Sam had called a ‘sob’ before, though when he had told him how it worked, he didn’t understand how one could sob without tears. Sam had kinda chuckled at the time, but said it happened to humans that way sometimes too.

Another sob of a sound wrecked through his body as the energy that was building from Sam’s continued stimulation of his body peaked a second time for the night, and he fully let his weight fall against Sam’s chest, which he took, supporting him fully as he chased his own release.

Tron couldn’t see Sam, so he turned his head and tucked his face against Sam’s neck, a mirror of the position from just moments ago.

“I love you,” he mumbled, and froze. Sam’s arm’s shifted, wrapping around him fully, as he came.

They stayed their on their knees for a moment, Sam still panting, and Tron still heaving.

Sam pulled back just slightly, capturing Tron’s mouth with his own, leaving them both breathless again as he pulled back, “I love you too.”

Tron knew his circuits where turning pink, but he didn’t care, smile sharp as he stood and pulled Sam too his feet to get them both cleaned up.

[asalesbian]

Killjoys (2015-2019) > top-rated episodes on IMDb

for @killjoysmonth prompt 'favourite episode(s)'

[puhpandas]

prompt from @kookyc

Extinct

(891 words)

It was supposed to just be a silly marathon.

Gregory threw out the idea to Freddy, who mentioned wanting to learn more about the outside world. Which... he cant really do as only a head, despite Gregory and Vanessa having plans to get him a body.

Gregory just wanted to show him some of the world around him, nature and all that crap, from the comfort of Vanessa's apartment, by watching a nature documentary.

Gregory should have known letting the episode about bears play was a bad idea.

"Bears are extinct?!" Freddy cries, once again suprising Gregory with the suprising amount of emotion in his robotic voice.

Gregory sighs, and facepalms, pausing the TV. "Yeah. Went extinct a couple years back. Polar bears went first, and then they all just kinda dropped from there."

Freddy sputters, and looks at the grizzly bear on the TV with somehow shiny eyes. "B-But I thought humans were supposed to protect nature and the wild animals that inhabit it!"

Gregory frowns. "Yeah, they're supposed to. But things happened and not everything can be saved."

Freddy looks away from the TV and at him, LED eyes shining bright with emotion. "I am a bear. I am Freddy Fazbear. What does this mean for me?"

Gregory sighs. "Oh boy."

"If bears are all extinct, does that mean I am the last bear in the world?" Freddy starts, eyes staring blankly at the wall. "I am not a real bear, though. Does that mean I am apart of my own species? With the Pizzaplex closing down, will there be no more of me made? Am I the last of my kind?!"

Gregory pats Freddys head when he begins to sound frantic, and he grabs the remote, turning off the documentary and putting on YouTube. "Maybe we should watch something else. I dont think worrying over whether you can go extinct as a robot is good for your programming."

Freddy mimics taking a deep breath, like how Vanessa showed him how to do if Freddy ever malfunctions over Gregory being away. "You are right, Gregory. What would my ancestors think if I was wasting the life of the last bear on earth with worrying? They would want me to live it to the fullest!"

Gregory pauses. "Er... that's not what I meant--"

"Nonsense!" Freddy exclaims. "Put on some more information about nature, Superstar. I want to learn about those before me!"

Vanessa walks into the room before Gregory can respond, holding a bowl of popcorn. "I heard yelling. What happened?"

Gregory waves sporratically at the TV and then at Freddy. "Vanessa, tell Freddy that he isn't apart of a species and that he wont go extinct like bears did!"

Vanessa plops down on the couch, and she hums nonchalantly, in thought.

"Well... technically..."

Gregory stares at her. "Vanessa."

Gregory can see a slight twitch in her carefully neural expression, and he feels his blood boil. "Technically, Glamrock Freddys have gone extinct, since they wont be rebuilding another Pizzaplex."

Gregory stands up off the couch. "But he isnt even apart of a species to begin with! He cant even go extinct!"

Vanessa's stony expression finally breaks, and she bursts out laughing when Freddy cries out.

"So it is true!" Freddy exclaims, distraught. "I am the last Glamrock Freddy!"

Gregory shakes his head and sighs, sitting down. "Sure, I guess... but Freddy, you arent just a Glamrock Freddy," Gregory says, and sends Vanessa the stink eye when shes still laughing.

"You're one of a kind. And being so unique that there arent any more of you isnt a bad thing. How would you feel if there were two of me?"

Freddy hums, mulling over Gregory's words. "I cannot imagine there being two of you, Superstar, same with Vanessa, but..." He trails off. "You are not like me, Gregory. You were not created to entertain and inspire. You are just you, and I am me."

"That's right. You're you." Gregory counters. "It doesnt matter why we were created, it matters what we do with our lives while we live them."

Gregory sends Vanessa a meaningful look, and she just stares at them when her laughter dies down considerably, a serious expression on her face.

"Damn," Vanessa pokes him. "Why are you pulling out all of the existential wise words, squirt?"

Gregory shrugs. "I dunno. Freddy seems like he needs it."

Freddy rumbles a low sound, and Gregory recognizes it as thinking. "So..." Freddy begins. "you are saying that I am myself, and there is nobody else like me, therefore I cannot truly die?"

Gregory scratches behind his head. "Well, I didnt put it like that..." He says. "But yeah. I guess."

Freddy smiles. "That was very wise, Superstar." He praises. "I will keep this in mind next time I feel like I am in a jumble."

"...Jumble?" Gregory mutters, then shakes his head. "No problem, Freddy. I just don't want you to have an existential crisis again."

"How about we watch one of your, as you put it, 'vlogs', Superstar?" Freddy asks.

Gregory grins. "You dont even have to ask."

The video Gregory put on was only playing for a couple minutes when Vanessa spoke up suddenly, a quiet mumble.

"Well technically, a long line of Freddys have been fizzled out over decades and never used again, so Freddy can go extinct."

"Vanessa!"

ao3 link

[peaceoutofthepieces]

57. or 59. + 67. for Kandreil again please!! 😭🙏

i am sorry this has taken approx. two years. i sincerely hope you still enjoy

57. “Listen to me!”

59. “Don’t yell at me.”

67. “It’s you, it’s always been you.”

Being alone—truly alone—for the first time in one's life would have thrown anyone.

This is what Kevin told himself as he left. This is what Kevin told himself as he sat on the plane. This is what Kevin told himself as he stood in a bare apartment, empty but for the boxes and bags surrounding him. This is what Kevin told himself as he went to bed without another body no more than a door away for the first time in his life.

His body, exhausted enough from the travel and the private practice Kevin had put it through (he didn't yet have keys to his new court), pulled him into sleep, but it could not keep him there for long. His mind would not rest the same way. 

He would like to say the buzz of his phone woke him, but he'd been awake with the sun, staring at the ceiling—white, still white, but not the right shade—and it merely drew him out of a daze. The list of people who had his number, and who used it, had grown longer in the past year, and he did not waste time going over who might be trying to reach him at this hour. Not when the majority of his contacts were in a different time-zone, anyway. In the few seconds it took him to collect his phone, though, an entire cycle of emotions raced for his attention—panic, fear, annoyance, relief.

He could not name the feeling that overtook him at the sight of Neil's name. 

Part of it was—not surprise, exactly, but an unexpectedness. Neil was known for his inability to contact, purely from the disinterest he took in his phone, despite Andrew's constant warnings. He'd used it, Kevin knew, to keep an eye on Jean in the beginning, and he used it to maintain contact with his uncle, which was somewhat concerning but not Kevin's place to comment on. Then, he'd used it to keep up with the graduated Foxes, but Kevin knew Neil was never the one to initiate contact even there. 

Neil did not understand the concept of casual in any sense, but when it came to texting or calling, his bafflement reached yet new heights. Kevin understood, in a way, having grown up in the Nest. Living a life on the run made traceable contact more than uninteresting—it may well have been deadly. It made sense that still, Neil only felt the need to use it in emergencies. 

Which probably should have made Kevin worried. But while fear was mixed into the unnamable emotion, it was not the primary sensation. 

If it was really an emergency, Kevin justified, surely Neil would have called.

The message that awaited him was far from worrying, but he couldn't deny his confusion. 

Neil: You left your navy shirt with the weird horse logo. Andrew's joking about burning it.

Kevin's first instinct was to roll his eyes; trust Neil to have no lick of knowledge about branding, despite Andrew's tireless work at recreating his wardrobe. His second reaction was to frown in mild concern. 

He did not overthink it. He messaged back. 

Kevin: Since when does Andrew joke? 

A few minutes later, his phone pinged, but it wasn't Neil. 

Andrew: I'm not joking.

Kevin's phone slipped, and he gripped it tighter in sweaty fingers. If Neil was terrible at using his phone, Andrew was a hypocrite. Kevin was fairly sure the only people Andrew ever messaged were Renee, Bee, and Neil himself. He had never once messaged Kevin. 

Kevin supposed they'd never needed to, before. 

His phone pinged again, then again. 

Neil: All the time. It was easier to tell when he was high, now it just depends on how bored he sounds and how unlikely it is he means what he's saying. 

Neil: Even Nicky realised it this time.

Neil: Apparently Andrew ‘has enough taste to know better’, whatever that means. I'm guessing the shirt is expensive? 

Kevin blinked. 

Kevin: Is everything alright? 

There was no obvious explanation for the texts. Kevin would worry Neil was dancing around something, drawing him in to ask something of him or break some terrible news, but Neil was not the type. He always had been and always would be a liar, but he was also blunt. He did not sugarcoat. There would be no reason to message Kevin such nonsense if he had something more important to say. 

He waited, but this reply took longer. He was debating finally getting out of bed when it arrived. 

Neil: Yep. Everything alright with you? 

Oh. 

Was that what this was? Checking up on him? 

Kevin: Yes.

He debated with himself, then gave in to the impulse. 

Kevin: I'm not used to the quiet yet.

Neil: Makes sense.

Again, Kevin waited, but there was nothing more. Kevin could not think of another response—it didn't seem necessary, and he had already embarrassed himself enough. He expected, really, for that to be the end of it. 

By the time he got out of the shower, there was another message. 

Andrew: Respond to Neil if you're still alive.

Kevin checked, but Neil hadn't sent him anything else in the interim. He debated responding directly to Andrew—the two lonely incoming messages looked out of place and unfinished, when he stared at their text thread too long—but decided against it. Neil was the safer option of the two. 

Kevin: The shirt is expensive. If you're going to do anything with it, you should wear it. It will cover your next trip to Eden's. 

This was not, however, the safest response. It was stupid at best, but now there was no way of taking it back. 

He hadn't expected the distance to fuck with his head this quickly. In the past two years, he had held himself tightly in check, and would never have let such a suggestive thing slip. 

Neil wouldn't pick up on it, Kevin knew. At worst, Neil would be pissed off at Kevin managing his fashion choices from a distance. He would take it as derision, or dry teasing, knowing now Kevin was capable of such a thing, but not as an invitation. Not as a hopeful suggestion; not as Kevin being just short of begging. 

No, Neil would never pick up on it. 

But Andrew might. 

Before Kevin could spiral under the implications of this, his phone buzzed again. 

Neil: Won't be the same without you.

Oh, dear. Now Kevin could spiral for an entirely new reason. 

~^~

Kevin expected, after, for the texting to become more of a habit. 

He wasn't expecting Neil to show up at his door with Andrew in tow. 

It was mid-term, and Kevin had thought they might take an extended trip to Columbia. But there was no reason to waste two full days of their break just to get to Kevin and back. 

“What are you doing here?” Kevin asked, still frozen in the doorway of his apartment. 

Neil made a face at him. “Nice to see you, too. I brought your shirt.”

Kevin stared at him. He was startled all over again by how blue Neil's eyes were, now that he'd gone so long without seeing them. Neil never tried to hide them anymore. They gazed up at Kevin, clear and unflinching and beautiful. Since Neil returned to the Foxes after Baltimore, he and Kevin had never been apart long enough to go through any remarkable change without each other. Part of Kevin suggested that even now, nothing was different, but a larger part of him was reacting as if he had never seen Neil before. Perhaps that scar was lighter, or his jaw was sharper, or his hair had grown. But Kevin couldn't pin down anything, couldn't explain why Neil seemed to him, in this moment, more beautiful than ever. 

Was this what loneliness had done to him? 

No, Kevin thought. This is what they've always done to you.

He hadn't yet looked at Andrew. 

Kevin clenched his left hand to stop its trembling. “You've come all this way to give me a shirt?”

Andrew stepped up to Neil's shoulder. “We can leave.”

It was an unmistakable challenge. Kevin's mistake was in finally giving in and meeting Andrew's gaze. 

Andrew's beauty was softer than Neil's. Quieter. Neil, certainly against his best wishes, could not be overlooked. He attracted attention like a knife or a gun, harsh and deadly and surprising. Andrew did not have the same unexpected quality; he was beautiful like the night, vast and reliable and consuming, and no less lethal. 

Kevin's knees threatened to buckle. He covered it by stepping back and allowing Neil and Andrew in. 

Neil immediately began giving himself a tour of the apartment. Andrew dropped their bags, then planted himself in the middle of the hallway and watched Kevin, who was still hovering by the door. He had never been so unsure of himself in their presence, but it had been over a month. Here, now, with Andrew in front of him, that time felt like both a blink and an eternity. Nothing had changed. Everything was different. He could not remember. He had spent so much time feeling the absence of them, he couldn't be sure if this was how he used to feel with them near. He wasn't sure how he'd survived this long if it had been. 

“Take a picture,” Andrew drawled.

Kevin tore his gaze away, then resolutely directed it back, mustering some of his old confident irritation. “Excuse my surprise. I'd have thought you would have told me you were coming.”

Andrew shrugged. “Last minute decision.”

Kevin almost huffed. Even so, the hours it would have taken them to get here would have been plenty of time to notify him—even so, a text would have taken a few seconds before they'd even left. 

“We were bored,” Neil said, returning from wherever he'd been nosying through. “And we were already in the car.”

That stung more than it should have—more than Kevin could allow himself to acknowledge. He parsed through that for a response and came up with, “With my shirt.”

Neil shrugged, now showing a vested interest in the hallway itself. “You told me to wear it.”

Kevin's stomach flipped. He swallowed, roughly, and turned away. “You can put your bags in the spare room.”

Andrew moved to do so wordlessly. Kevin knew he would use it as an excuse for doing his own poking around, but he didn't care. There was nothing material Kevin wanted or needed to hide from them. 

“How've you been?” Neil asked. Kevin had forgotten the weight of his scrutiny. It didn't matter what Kevin answered—the way Neil was looking at him meant he'd already begun taking Kevin apart. 

He couldn't help answering, “I'm fine.”

Neil's smile was wry, but less vicious than it had once been. 

“You gonna show us your new court?” Neil asked, doing a slight bounce on his toes that made Kevin's heart tumble. This was alright, though. This was safe, familiar territory. Kevin's feelings became much less complicated when he could focus on exy. 

Andrew rematerialised at Neil's side with a derisive sound. “I am having food first.” He looked expectantly at Kevin, and Kevin felt another shiver of inexplicable nerves, of something like failure or inadequacy. 

He mended it quickly. “There's a cafe a few blocks over that does desserts.”

Andrew looked as close to pleased as Kevin had ever seen him; Neil looked all too knowing. Kevin stopped looking at either of them. 

~^~

Even when darkness fell and they parted ways into separate rooms, Kevin’s awareness of their presence was a physical thing beside him, a buzzing in his ears that would not allow him to sleep. He strained to hear over it, in case there really were any audible signs of life in the apartment aside from his frantic heartbeat. Then he realised what he was doing and turned onto his side, pressing his face to his pillow in hopes of muffling everything else. 

It didn’t work.

He dragged himself out of bed, hoping a wander to the bathroom and to the kitchen for a drink would settle him. But this was just another mistake. 

A silhouette already occupied the kitchen. Kevin made out Neil's shape, his outline wreathed in moonlight where he stood in front of the window, his hands planted on the counter. There was no hope of turning tail and escaping; Neil heard him before he'd even fully entered the room and turned to glance at him. 

Neil's eyes were midnight blue in the dark. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Kevin crept into the room. “Trouble sleeping?”

Neil shrugged. 

Kevin did not require explanation, really. He knew what it was like, trying to make yourself comfortable in an unfamiliar environment. Maybe Neil had been used to it, once, or maybe that was unfair—maybe, once, he had struggled all the more. Kevin knew well that the imminent threat of death could keep anyone awake. 

“Why did you really come?” Kevin asked. It was easier, in the darkness, over-tired, when he already felt raw and exposed and apart from reality. 

The afterward was the nerve-wracking bit, and Neil did not make it easier. He turned to lean back against the counter and eyed Kevin quietly, his hands flexing where they gripped the granite. “Why do you think we came?”

Kevin bit down a scoff. He should have expected the non-answer, but that didn't make it less irritating. He gave a jerky shrug. “I suppose you still don't think I can take care of myself.” 

“That's not true,” Neil denied, his brow furrowing. “I never thought that.”

“You're a known liar,” Kevin dismissed.

“Known to be bad at it.” The voice came from behind him, but Kevin didn't turn. His breath hitched as Andrew slipped past him and into the kitchen, ignoring them both as he filled himself a glass of water. 

Neil nodded at him, as if that was all the explanation and evidence necessary. Then he eyed Kevin a little more thoughtfully. “Do you not want us here?”

“That's not it,” Kevin said, because he was not known for being a good liar, either. 

“But there is something?”

Kevin fidgeted. “I just don't—I don't understand.”

Andrew clinked his glass down into the sink and turned to stare Kevin down. “What is there to understand?”

You, Kevin thought exasperatedly. Why you're here. Why you didn't tell me you were coming. Why you still allow me in your lives at all, when you must know by now how I feel. Us. This. Pick one.

“Don't you want to spend your break together?” Kevin landed on, with a little more bitterness than intended. 

Neil and Andrew shared a look, and that, right there, was what Kevin meant. When he was in their presence, he couldn't deny their unity, that together they were a part of something that Kevin was not. He could remain in their orbit, clinging to their gravity, but they were a world of their own and in the end, he was just a blink in their universe. 

Kevin had hoped that distance would allow him to find his own gravity, and he would not feel so untethered when he looked at them and remembered he was not theirs. 

He should have known that a pull that strong could not be weakened by something as insignificant as space. 

“It is not as if we don't see each other enough,” Andrew finally commented, dry and unconcerned. 

Neil pulled a face at him. “We are spending the break together,” he pointed out. He turned back to Kevin with a shrug. “We just wanted to see you, too.”

Kevin waited for the punchline. For Andrew, at least, to refute wanting anything other than Neil, which he still denied even at its most obvious. But Andrew just stood quietly, and Neil kept looking at Kevin in a way that was not soft, was not really even friendly, but was all the more honest and disarming for it. 

Kevin felt suddenly, inexplicably furious. “What a generous afterthought.”

Neil furrowed his brow. “Kevin—”

“I do not need your pity,” Kevin snapped. Neil, to his credit, didn't flinch. “I am not the answer to whatever poor attempt at self-improvement this is.”

Andrew glanced back and forth between them, looking as close to amused as he got as Neil rolled his eyes heavenward. “Jesus Christ, you're impossible. I don't know which one of your issues this meltdown is stemming from, but we only came to—”

Kevin turned and strode back into the hall before he could hear the rest. 

Neil said something loudly in Russian which Kevin assumed was a swear before calling after him. “Do you always need to be such a drama queen? Kevin, come on. Kev, listen to me!” He caught up to Kevin and latched a hand around his wrist. 

Kevin spun on him, jerking out of his grip. Neil retracted his hands, holding them up peaceably. “Don't yell at me.”

“Then listen to me,” Neil insisted. “What's wrong? You've been weird since we got here and now you're being pissy.”

Andrew followed them out. “Neil, don't tease him.”

“No, I need him to say it.” Neil didn't tear his gaze away from Kevin, resolute and equally pissed off in the face of Kevin's ire. 

Kevin shifted. “Say what?”

“Kevin, why do you think I'm here?” When Kevin opened his mouth to respond, Neil held up a hand. “No, think about it for a second. Not just here in your apartment. Why do you think I ever came with you in the first place?”

“To play,” Kevin said easily, blankly. What did this have to do with anything? “It was the stupidest thing you have ever done.”

Andrew twitched, and Kevin wondered if he was about to disagree or simply amused again. They both knew Neil had done much stupider things, but that had been the causal point of them all.

Neil was undeterred. “Probably. So do you think if anyone other than Kevin Day had asked me, I would've done it?”

Kevin opened his mouth. Closed it again. 

Neil inched closer. “What other reason could I possibly have had that would've made me think it was worth it?”

“I didn't think you were thinking at all,” Kevin couldn't help answering. 

Neil made a sound of frustration, almost a growl, then crushed it into softness. “It's you, Kevin. Do you not get that? It's you, it's always been you.”

Kevin's breath caught, and it was ridiculous, because Neil didn't even mean it like that. He had never meant it like that. Kevin had understood, upon finding out who Neil was and the connection between them, that Neil's joining him had always been something more, but it had never been that. It was something like how Kevin hung onto Jean, even now—that memory of the brightest part of a dark place and the desperate desire to cling to it. He'd made the comparison before, and it almost made him laugh, how accurate it was, except Kevin knew now how Jean had felt and how it had hurt and that it didn't any longer. 

This—them—could never be so clean cut. Neil was a gun or a knife and Andrew was the night and so it would always hurt, like a wound reopened again and again, as surely as the sun would always set. 

Kevin's response was scathing. “I'm sure I've exceeded all your expectations.”

Neil laughed, sharp and sure. “Oh, you're so much worse.”

“Enough.” Andrew put himself between them, slipping into Kevin's space as easily as if he had never left. His gaze was a trap that Kevin fell into without a second thought. “Tell us you don't want us here.”

“What?”

“Tell us to go,” Andrew said easily, “and we'll go.”

Kevin fumbled. “I didn't—that wasn't—”

“Or tell us to stay. But it has to be one or the other. A non-answer is as good as a no.” Andrew shrugged. “The choice is yours.”

“Don't pretend it's that simple,” Kevin snapped. He felt tense and agitated, unsure of which way to run. It all came down to deals with Andrew, to definites, but they were never as straightforward as he made them seem. Kevin had witnessed it, with Aaron and Neil and himself—how easily one gave to make way for another, how a yes was only a yes until it was no. 

Kevin would tell them to stay, and at the end of the week, what would happen? They would have to go, and instead of being Andrew-and-Neil and Kevin, they would return to their planet of two, and he would still be alone. 

“You suck at this,” Neil said bluntly, and Kevin blanched for a moment before realising he was talking to Andrew. 

The look Andrew sent back at him would have meant death, to anyone else. When Neil was the recipient, it was almost affectionate. “Because it is clearly your area of expertise.”

“Alright, genius. The fact even I can tell you're confusing him just makes my point.”

“He isn't confused.” Andrew cut his gaze back to Kevin. “He's a coward.”

Kevin fumed. “What makes you think—”

His breath cut off as Andrew took another step into his space, until he was forced to tilt his head down just to look at him. “Why,” Andrew asked softly, “are you still waiting to be punished for wanting something?”

And just like that, everything shifted. 

“You know.”

Andrew raised a brow. Neil rolled his eyes. “I was able to figure it out on my own, Kev. Are you saying you didn't?”

Wordlessly, Kevin shook his head. 

“You are even more dense than I gave you credit for,” Andrew said. 

“Can you—” Kevin cleared his throat “—can you spell it out for me?”

Andrew let a breath out through his nose. 

Neil nudged up behind Andrew's shoulder. “Yes or no, Kevin?”

Kevin blinked and tried to hold in the immediate yes that wanted to escape. “To what?” he managed, though it didn't matter. He could play defense all he liked, but it wasn't where his talents lay. In the end, he would take the shot. 

He wouldn't be able to resist giving them anything they asked for. 

Neil nodded to Andrew and said, “Kiss him.” 

Kevin did not take time to think anything trivial or snarky like him? Not you? because he was not stupid enough to miss such an open net from one of the few people in the world able to shut him out. Thoughtless and breathless, but with the surety and precision that came from thinking a move over again and again, he said, “Yes.”

And then Andrew was kissing him. 

Andrew was kissing him.

Kevin had been kissed plenty, and it apparently did not make a difference when it was another man; kissing was kissing, and his body knew how to do it. His head was last to process, unable to make it past the fact that Andrew was kissing him, but by then they'd already reached a rhythm and he was fairly sure he'd made an absolutely embarrassing noise, and Andrew's hand was in his hair. Incredulous, irrepressible laughter bubbled in Kevin's chest. 

Andrew's teeth dug into his bottom lip. “What's funny?”

Kevin laughed a little more. “When I imagined this, I failed to focus on how short you are.”

Andrew's look spoke death. To Kevin, it felt almost affectionate. 

“I'm sure there's ways around that,” Neil said dryly. When Kevin managed to look at him, he noted with not a small amount of satisfaction that Neil must have only managed that tone with a dedicated amount of control. In the dim light of the hallway, his pupils had blown, and he seemed unsure of whether to look at Andrew or Kevin. 

The impossible part, Kevin realised, had already passed—his lips were tingling with the remnants of Andrew's kiss. The game had changed, and no move from here on was too risky to take. 

He raised his brows, letting the corner of his mouth curl upwards. “Are you offering to test that theory?”

Neil had never been one to back down from a challenge. 

[randomly-generated-posts-machine]

put patrick bateman and naruto with a trillion lions into a well crafted story line and see what happens

[pikkuisesti-paskaa]

I got a very specific dp x dc twin au idea. And i dont have friends in the fandom so to tumblr it goes

So a very basic danny was raised in the loa and eventually escapes to amity park and gets adobted and becomes phantom and does his thing.

A new ghost shows up and causes everyone to have a number above their head. Its not just any random number. Its the number you feel the most negative/insecure/stressed/ashamed over. It could be your height, the amount of debt u have or like a million of other things. For some people its fairly easy to figure out and some seem really random. Maybe the ghost goes around revealing what the numbers mean for people.

Dannys number seems kinda random but he absolutely refuses to tell anyone what his number means and he is scrambling to get rid of the ghost before it gets revealed. After all it doesnt really matter if his kill count gets revealed as fenton or phantom, the life hes built for himself would be in shambles.

[danikatze]

[ID in alt text]

I made a more or less random Inktober prompt list for myself, because I wanted to start preparing early. Feel free to use it if you like it!

[umemiyan]

omg just found some fun ask games saved at the bottom of my drafts. need to rb them at some point when my brain is prepared so we can all play 👌🏻

[pizzaprompts]

Send 🍕 (or "pizza") for our muses to grab some fast food on their way home from a long night!

~~~~~~~🍕~~~~~~~

Send 🍕🎲 to generate a location they're coming home from! List below the cut:

1 - A holiday party

2 - A birthday party

3 - A theme park

4 - A movie

5 - A play

6 - A musical

7 - A work meeting that ran too long

8 - A game night with friends

9 - A funeral

10 - The opera

11 - A charity event

12 - A festival

13 - House hunting

14 - A sporting event

15 - The airport

16 - Visiting family

17 - A LARP / SCA event

18 - Watching fireworks

19 - A hospital

20 - An auction

[mamamittens]

After a Crown for a Ring

This is the somewhat unhinged romcom order for myself based on my 'menu' for my Shake Date 500+follower event. Without the smut, I... I cannot write and post that and still come online ever again at this point in time (social anxiety for the win!), so ya'll just get the ridiculous build up.

That and I realized I had written over 2K just building up to smut. Why am I like this for this man???

So here.

Order: strawberry cake, gummy candy, sprinkles. Add in pink schnapps, jager bomb, white Russian, hot damn, and brain hemorrhage with a coffee and strawberry mochi.

Warnings: Yandere, technically kidnapping, and intended imprisonment until marriage agreement.

Thatch X Nikia (OC)

What can I say, he's a real romantic at heart.

word count: 2,490

The kingdom was burning.

Okay, so only some of the kingdom was burning. It was still a problem and there wasn’t much to be done at this point.

Nikia sighed, anxiously wringing her hands as she looked out over the balcony. She was trained for peacetime, not war. The weight of lives on her shoulders a distinctly uncomfortable one. So, she ordered her people to evacuate well before the enemy line made it to the capital city. Some stayed, too stubborn or loyal to go, but the rest fled quickly.

In theory, this is where her fiancé would shine. As a well decorated war general, this would have been his moment. He likely could have managed this whole mess swiftly and gotten a treaty signed. But he’d gone at the first sign of war to handle things and… he never came back.

Nikia shifted on her feet, wings fluttering behind her restlessly.

She liked Henrick well enough. Kind and deferential to her title without being a kiss ass. Older but not so old she worried he’d pass well before she ever would. They’d been arranged to marry next spring by her late parents but that clearly wasn’t going to happen now. And her envoys for peace went unheeded for reasons beyond her understanding. Spies, perhaps. Or perhaps just a lack of interest in peace. It was possible.

The rival kingdom was quite fond of conquering, so it was possible that this was inevitable.

And as queen she had to greet them.

There was a rattle of armor behind her as her personal guard, Minos, entered the room.

“Your majesty, they’ve made it to the pavilion.” She sighed, fussing with her skirts.

“Then I shall meet them in the entrance.” She declared, turning to walk swiftly through the halls, Minos glancing from under his helmet, hand on his blade.

“It’s not too late to run, your majesty.” He reminded her softly. She paused before the stairs, smiling softly.

“And go where? I can hardly pass as an unfortunate peasant.” Nikia sighed, extending her wings. It was something all royal family members had and became incredibly symbolic over the years, much to her frustration. “Besides, I have to try for peace one last time before the entire kingdom is razed. You heard what happened to Marineford.” She moved on, not looking at the portraits of her ancestors along the walls and artwork gifted to her family over the years. Marineford had, somehow, gotten hold of a prince and tried to execute him. It did not end well.

“Well, you haven’t acted against them before. And neither did your family! Perhaps this is just a show of force?” He asked, lengthening his stride to keep up.

“Well, they’ve certainly shown it!” Nikia grumbled. “The staff are safe?”

“No one wanted to leave.” He informed her.

Nikia stopped at the bottom of the stairs and sighed.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have spent her youth running around the kitchens.

She looked out across the hall where guards stood at the ready. Men she knew. Had watched train over the years in the courtyard. Personally knighting several when they’d become skilled enough to warrant the lofty title.

The sound of battle was faint but echoed over the empty hall. White marble draped in silk livery. The door was closed. But it wouldn’t be for long.

“Open the door and leave.” Nikia commanded clearly, though she knew only one part of her order would be followed. They hesitated, the two closest to the door looking back at her as she approached. Her dress trailing across the carpet. “We were never going to win this battle… so let’s get this over with.” Nikia stated, taking a sword from a kneeling servant. It was a mostly ceremonial blade, the one she had knighted several of those present with, in fact. Gemstones embedded in the blade and pommel, a flawless silver with golden leaves across the centerline. It could still cut, but was not meant to.

A bit ironic, really.

Pretty but useless.

The doors opened up, the sound of fighting pouring in as she saw the fight come to a screeching halt. All eyes on her as she tipped up her chin and walked to the top of the stairs.

She flared out her wings purposefully, letting them stretch out in the open air as she looked across the foreign soldiers. They seemed shocked. Perhaps they thought the ‘angelic royalty’ thing was a hoax. While she certainly wasn’t an angel, the imagery of her family line was no joke.

Now with their full attention she swallowed hard, gripping the sword.

“Congratulations. You’ve made a mess. Who am I meant to address?” She asked clearly, her voice ringing out.

A man stepped forward with a wide grin, wearing remarkably light armor and two blades in his hands. Amber red hair pulled back out of his face with a black goatee.

“That would be me, your majesty. Prince Thatch, captain of the eleventh division.” He dipped his head in deference but his eyes remained bold and amused.

“Well, since your kingdom insisted on dramatics—here!” Nikia called out, tossing the priceless blade down the stairs to his feet where it clattered with a chiming ring. He looked startled. “What? Did you expect me to fight you? What good would that do with an army still left behind? I’ve sent envoys for peace many times. We are not a country built for war, as you may have noticed while razing the countryside.” Nikia chided while walking towards him.

“Just like that?” Annoyance seeped into her.

“That desperate for a fight, are you? What, nothing to do back home, Prince Thatch?” Nikia hissed, flinging out her arms. “Besides, it would be a poor match. My weapon of choice is a bow.”

Though she had been tempted to shoot him from the sky.

He grinned, relaxing his stance and sheathing his blades as she approached closer.

“I think I would have liked to see that.” He mused, looking over her.

Her crown still in place over her curls, dark blue hair cut around her chin and braids of soft teal over her shoulders. Her dress trimmed close to her chest in silver silk lined with blue, trailing down her arms in wide sleeves. It wasn’t her most extravagant dress. But it was one she could run in, if need be.

“Too bad… so what now? Will you charge through my castle still or execute me first?” She asked, looking up at him. His expression softened.

“Now, why would I be so wasteful?” He asked, delicately picking up a thin braid and bringing it to his lips with a smile.

Nikia… wasn’t sure what to do with that. If they wanted peace, there were easier ways before this point. Hell, after the first battle where her fiancé was slain, marriage was suddenly a very easy and open option if they wanted.

“…Because you clearly didn’t want to sign a treaty?” She said in confusion. “And you clearly didn’t come here to talk.” She waved towards the still eerily quiet battlefield.

He laughed.

“Hah! I suppose that would be a little confusing on your part, wouldn’t it?” Thatch said before frowning thoughtfully. “I’m here for one thing. Where’s your king? Is he such a poor husband he makes his wife face an army to surrender?”

Nikia frowned.

“Uh…” Despite her many lessons, she couldn’t help the graceless sound that slipped from her lips. “… There isn’t one?”

Now Thatch looked confused.

“What?”

“What?” she parroted, shrugging her shoulders. “There isn’t one? There is no king? No consort either, before you ask… it’s just me? Who are you looking for—are you lost?!?” Nikia demanded, utterly baffled.

“You-You’re married.” Thatch said, looking down and grabbing her hand only to find it bare of any ring.

“No? I’m not?” Nikia insisted. “I mean, I would be… next spring. What the hell does it matter, why are you here?!”

“Fiancé then. Where is he.” Thatch looked around with narrowed eyes, like her fiancé would spring up from the shadows.

“Dead! In this stupid fucking war!” Nikia screeched, yanking back her hand. “What! Do you! Want here!”

“Then how are you queen?”

“Because my parents were king and queen?! And died—thanks for the reminder, ass.” Nikia hissed.

Thatch looked shocked before grinning.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Nikia considered storming to her rooms and shooting him with a bow. She’d definitely be executed then but it would be worth it.

“Well, I’m here for you.” His tone shifted to something dark and she couldn’t help but shudder.

“Well… I’m right here? What do you want?!” Nikia stammered, taking a step back. Thatch grabbed her waist and pulled her in close, the familiar cries of alarm ringing behind her falling silent swiftly.

“My homeland makes allies in many ways. Usually treaties and exchanges. Sometimes even marriage.” Thatch informed her softly.

“That is… how most make allies, yes? Y-You’re freaking me out, what the fuck is your point?” Nikia questioned equally quiet.

“It’s seems there’s been a… misunderstanding. I’d been informed you were already married.” Thatch chimed in helpfully. “So, obviously, your husband had to go. And I couldn’t do that if we had a treaty.”

It took a moment. Nikia willing admitted it took a moment to understand what Thatch was saying.

Her face flushed.

“Y-You started a war to marry me?! No!” Nikia said, utterly horrified. “Absolutely not!”

“I gotta say, this is much easier!” Thatch chuckled, and in a move too fast to process, picked her up into his arms. Her wings flailed in alarm but it didn’t phase him in the slightest. “Fights over, boys!” There was a round of cheers and wolf whistles.

Apparently, it was only her side that was unaware of Thatch’s true intentions.

“Put our queen down!” Minos declared, drawing his blade. Thatch shifted his stance, still walking up the stairs with her on one arm, reaching for his own blade.

“No! You are not fighting this madman! Put me down, damnit!” Nikia screeched. A young man without a shirt clambered up the stairs and surprised her guard, the two engaging in a short fight before a column of fire erupted and left only one standing. And it was not her guard. Minos was, thankfully, still breathing.

The young man winked cheekily at her and Thatch before darting into the castle.

“No can do. Where’s your scribe, we need to square away the details.” Thatch commented breezily with a laugh. “Where are you going, Ace?!”

“I’m going to find the kitchen!” the young man declared over his shoulder.

“What details!?” Nikia asked, squirming to no avail.

“Our marriage, of course.”

“We are not getting married!” Thatch came to a halt at the top of the stairs, looking up at her smugly. Her guards were subdued on the ground, though thankfully not dead.

“Then I guess this is an armed occupation until we do. Where are your chambers?” He asked. Upon seeing her flustered but speechless, he looked towards a maid. “You there, miss? Would you kindly show me where the queen sleeps?”

“Why do you need to know that?!” Nikia hissed.

“I’m not locking my wife in the dungeons!” Thatch shot back, utterly offended.

“I am not your wife!”

The poor maid looked horrified and confused.

Thatch pouted at her.

“Then I suppose we’ll do it right here.” Thatch declared.

“Do what?” he grinned, reaching up to hook his fingers in the collar of her dress. Her eyes widened as her face grew hot. “No.”

“Yes.” He smirked and she couldn’t say for certain he was joking.

Nikia looked at the poor maid, utterly flustered herself.

“Show him.” The maid hurried, clearly understanding the innuendo before she had. “What the hell is wrong with you—we’ve never even met!—we haven’t met, have we?” She asked in horror as he effortless carried her up the stairs after the maid.

“No, but you have a lovely portrait.”

Okay, so he’s absolutely fucking mad.

“They’re paid to make me look good, what the hell is wrong with you?” Nikia asked, feeling a tad overwhelmed.

Her kingdom was invaded because a prince thought she was pretty?!

“Easiest money of that painter’s life. You’re already a work of art—thank you, you’re excused now.” Thatch said, stepping into her personal chambers as the maid nodded and fled.

He looked around in satisfaction and curiosity. Clearly eager to snoop around.

“Are you going to put me down, now?” Nikia asked blandly, feeling a tad resigned to the situation.

“You fit in my arms so well, though.” He pouted. “I suppose I should do it anyway.” Thatch sighed dramatically before setting her on her bed. He kneeled, looking up at her with a bright smile as she grimaced.

“…what now?” She asked softly.

Thatch reached up and pushed back her hair, settling his palm over her cheek.

“You agree to marry me.” Thatch smiled. “Until then, you don’t leave these rooms. Can’t have you running off. Or flying away for that matter.” Thatch looked at the balcony with a frown.

“You want to be king that badly?” Nikia asked. “You could always just oust me. It’s not that hard. Execution or banishment usually does the trick. Not that I want to die but… I just don’t get why you’re doing this.”

He hummed, looking back at her with a chastising expression.

“I don’t care about being king. Just your king.” He corrected her.

Nikia scowled.

“Then why do I need to agree to marriage? You’ve effectively conquered my kingdom already. I’d hardly be the first queen married without being asked. I didn’t even ask to marry Henrick. That was arranged.” She couldn’t help but point out. Upon his horrified look she rolled her eyes. “I’m queen, Thatch. My duty is to my people first. And for a secure kingdom, you must be married. I thought you were a prince and would know that.”

Thatch frowned, cupping her face in both hands as he rested his forehead against hers, staring deeply into her eyes.

“That’s not how it works where I’m from. I want you to want me. As much as I want you.” Thatch kissed her lips softly before standing up. “Even if it takes a little convincing. Get some rest. It’s been a long day, my queen.”

Thatch walked to the balcony doors and pressed his hand over them, mumbling a spell under his breath. Lights and symbols danced over the glass, forming a perfect circle over the handles. Locked now with magic. He grinned, pleased with his work, and headed to the door, bowing as he exited with a pleased smirk.

Familiar magic swirling over the wood as that, too, was locked. That wasn’t the only exit of course but, with her castle occupied, she could hardly escape regardless.

Just as trapped as she was this morning. Though infinitely more confused.

[hobgodling]

summer poetry prompts, part 1

Hello

Something new

Devotion

Stay away

Countdown

Playground

Perfect match

In the summer

Bloom

Under water

Slow day

Games you play

Serendipity

More and more

Flow

Spellbound

Finish line

Morning fog

Teddy bear

Adhesive

info

[hyugaruma]

Valentine’s Day Prompt Drabble Lineup:

♡ these will be short, 250~ word drabbles

2/8: First Meeting

2/9: Asking You Out

2/10: First Date

2/11: First Kiss

2/12: Cuddling

2/13: “I Love You”

2/14: HAPPY VALENTINE’S!

Potential Characters (any preferences? hehe): Jesse, Binzo, Ranmaru, Yuken, Smoky, Raoh, Masaki

[puhpandas]

Cassie and Gregory's first meeting, and how it might've gone in your eyes! OwO I'm curious~

Happy Birthday Cassie

(2532 words)

Technically, it's not the first time they've met.

They had been face to face a few times, but only with fleeting glances and little words. Standing next to eachother while they wait for the bathroom here, met eachother in the nurses office there, sitting next to eachother in class always.

But even then, Cassie had never really given Gregory a second thought. Sure, the kids in class talk about him, or more like how hes almost never present. One thing, and one of the only things Cassie knew about Gregory is that he only came to class half the time.

Another thing she knows is that when he does come to class, hes always dirty and ruffled, like he was in a fight or crawled through something dirty and small, and hair a mess, like he doesnt spare it any thought. Cassie herself could never imagine letting her hair get that tangled and messy.

Not only that, but despite Gregory's attendance, of lack thereof, he somehow has incredible grades. Cassie only shares her Math class with Gregory, but shes ever only seen A's from him.

Cassie would be lying if she said she'd never been curious. The other kids would always whisper and gossip about him, and nobody could ignore someone that notorious.

Not to mention how mysterious he is.

But Gregory, like a lot of things, had been shoved to the back of her mind when her birthday party at the Pizzaplex was only days away.

Cassie beams when shes the first one in their class, hands drumming on her desk and legs wiggling as she eyes all of the sparkly pink envelopes she put on everyones desks.

This party is going to be legendary! She thinks, unable to stop the bolt of excitement that shoots through her when kids start spilling into the classroom. Its gonna be awesome when everyone shows up. We'll play Fazerblast, go through the maze in Mazercise, maybe I can even meet Roxy!

She shoves the thoughts of her party that have been making her loose sleep from excitement the past week or so into the back of her mind, trying to keep her face neutral when kids start sitting down at their desks and noticing her party invite on their tables.

Just when she thinks the last kid had filed through, curiously, surprisingly, Gregory is one of the people attending class today.

He looks just like he always does; same blue shirt he always seems to have on with wild, tangled brown hair. His knees are smudged with dirt, but with tracks in them as if he attempted to wipe them down with a wet napkin.

Cassie suddenly feels self conscious of her decision to leave an invite on Gregory's table, just in case, when he comes to a stop in front of his desk and takes notice of it, right next to her.

She averts her eyes, and takes to watching the other kids. She sees some people eye her invite, and only give it a few twirls when they pick it up before shoving in their backpacks. Some people open up the envelope and read the contents, and some people ignore it all together.

But one cluster of reactions really gets her attention.

The area of the classroom that house the more popular girls, coincidentally all seated right by eachother, all eye the invite in almost incredulous curiosity, before each of them lean over to their queen bee when she rips it open and the contents Cassie had hand-written are out for the world to see.

Cassie feels her cheeks burn when the girls all whisper in hushed conversation, mean grins on their faces as they giggle not-so inconspicuously, looking over their shoulders directly at her.

She feels shame coat her stomach, any trace of excitement for her birthday replaced with humiliation and embarrassment mixing together like an ugly poison.

She hides her face in her sweater, avoiding eye contact, and tries to ignore the hushed giggles that she knows are making fun of her.

Of course. What was she thinking, inviting them like that? They're notorious for being mean, especially to unpopular people like Cassie, but she guesses she just wanted them to feel included, like how Cassie wishes she did.

She dares to peek open an eye when the sound of an envelope rustling catches her attention nearby, and she glances over to her right.

Gregory is sitting down at his desk, carefully peeling the sparkly envelope open, all while giving the girls at the front a death stare.

Cassie dares to watch as inconspicuously as possible, watching in curiosity to see how Gregory, the most mysterious boy in class, who always felt just one step above them, busied and dirtied from events nobody knows about, will react.

He doesn't seem to notice her just yet, just continuing to try to explode the girls with his mind, until he looks down at the card, putting the still intact envelope to the side.

Some kind of embarrassment shoots through her stomach when she watches Gregory's eyes trail over each word, and she only has half the mind to look away when he reaches the end.

She was just in time, because from the corner of her eye, she can see him looking at her.

She doesn't dare look over at him. Lest she make eye contact, but she does acknowledge how he gently folds the card back up, slips it inside the envelope, and puts it in the smaller, more isolated pocket in his backpack.

🐺

This has been the worst birthday ever.

That's the only thing Cassie can think as she hides in as she sits at a table in one of the party rooms, mascara running down her cheeks as fat tears roll out of her eyes.

An empty party room.

Nobody had shown up to her birthday.

She had put the instructions on the card, already knowing exactly which party room she'd be using. She put the room number and even directions on how to find it inside. She thought of everything.

Which meant nobody's here not becuase they got lost, but because they had deliberately not come. Even her Dad had ruffled her hair and told her to have fun, before leaving her to wait for her guests to go off to work at some other part of the Pizzaplex.

Cassie is completely, utterly, gut wrenchingly alone on her birthday.

The thought sends her into another round of tears, and she can feel how her face is scrunched up, despair wrinkling her chin, and all she can do about it is wipe away the tears with the sleeve of her sweater.

Today was supposed to be perfect. She was supposed to have fun with her friends. She was supposed to cut the carrot cake her Dad had ordered for her and share slices with them. She was supposed to race against them at Roxy Racers, and maybe even meet Roxy herself.

As she sits in the empty, gloomy room, sad and alone, she thinks its safe to say today is not perfect.

After another round of tears, shes suprised to hear the sound shes been waiting for all day.

The door to her party room slides open, clunking against the wall, and Cassie can only catch the shadow on the table before she finally looks over, half-hazardously wiping away the bullets of tears still staining her cheeks.

The air is stolen out of her lungs when the last person she had expected to come to her party stands in the doorway.

Gregory takes a step into the room, the same Gregory from math class that nobody has ever seemed to see at school two days in a row, that Cassie had always felt so curious about. The door slides shut and once again throws the room into complete silence, save for some cheery music to the theme of 'Fazbear Birthday' playing quietly on the speakers.

Gregory takes a look around, looking at the floating balloons and empty chairs and the sole, untouched carrot cake sitting in the middle of the table, empty places littering the table in front of each seat.

Cassie feels self consciousness redden her cheeks, when he finally looks at her, and Cassie tenses, scrambling to find something to wipe away all remnants of her previous breakdown so Gregory doesnt see how much of a weirdo she is and walk right back out that door.

"Um- I-- Gregory!" She finally stutters out, resorting to using the tablecloth as a tissue as she wipes at her eyes, and Cassie has no idea if its helping at all or making her definitely smudged makeup worse. "Haha, hi! Um, I'm sorry, I didnt expect you--"

"To show up?" Gregory finishes, and Cassie startles when she sees him smile for the very first time ever. "You invited me, why would I not come?"

Cassie finds that shes unable to answer, and she just pauses, unsubtlety glancing towards the rows of empty chairs as a crestfallen look undoubtedly appears on her face.

She tries to shake it off, not wanting to look like shes fishing for pity or sympathy in front of Gregory, but she cant help it when the complete lack of people in the room besides herself and the one, only person who came to her party overwhelms her again.

She can see Gregory startle when she promptly bursts into tears again, and she abandons trying to clean up her ruined makeup, just hiding her face in her hands as she let's out almost cartoonish weeps.

She feels shame build in her stomach when the tears don't stop, nor does the burning, aching feeling in her chest, and she feels Gregorys presence shift from the middle of the room to the plastic chair at her side.

"Im-Im sorry." She says in between sobs. "Y-You shouldn't have to deal with me. I'm a m-mess."

She feels Gregory lay a hand on her shoulder, and only then does she finally lower her hands ever so slightly, peeking through her fingers.

Gregory is just looking at her in a way shes never seen before. He looks sympathetic, but in the most <i>non</i> judgey way possible. Hes offering her a soft, comforting smile, and it stretches wider when she finally makes eye contact with him.

"Its okay to be a mess. I mean, nobody came to your birthday party." Gregory tells her, and she feels embarrassed in the same way she did before, but also almost... relieved? Appreciative? That Gregory didnt beat around the bush and just said straight up what happened.

It feels less like somebody is trying to calm her down because it's what they're supposed to do and more like she has somebody else in it with her.

"If you didnt cry about it, I'd be confused for sure. I saw all of those invites on the other kids' desks." He says, and turns around to fish something out of his backpack. "'M not surprised those girls didn't come. They seem like pretty big assholes."

A startled laugh bursts out of Cassies chest, and the shame dissipates just a little bit. "Y-Yeah. They've always sucked. Always rude to me, too."

"I sure wouldn't doubt it. I've never been around to see it, though." He says, and then finally finds whatever he was looking for in his bag.

She tries not to get even more emotional when she sees the stark sight of pink sparkle against Gregory's dirty, Glamrock Freddy themed backpack, tucked neatly inside the pocket when he turns back around.

When she finally looks towards him, he's handing her a cloth with that same look on his face, that makes Cassie feel almost immediately at ease.

"I wish I could give you a cleaner one..." He says, almost sheepish, but Cassie is still caught up in the thoughtfulness to notice. "But hey, better than nothing!"

The cloth is a bit dirty; its white and has a smudge of pale yellow that looks like an old stain, but Cassie still takes the cloth gingerly, using it to wipe away some of the mascara tracks on her face and smudged purple.

"Thanks." She says, and when she tries to hand it back to Gregory, he just pushes her hand back to her chest.

"Keep it." He insists. "Not the best gift, but... I hope itll help you feel just a bit less gross on your birthday if you end up crying again."

Cassie definitely does not tear up again at the almost jarring understanding and non-ridicule. Gregory points out that she might cry again, and that's it okay. It's a sad day.

So she just uses the gift (because that's what it is; a gift) to wipe at her eyes, stopping any more makeup that caked up her face before from running again.

"Thank you" She says genuinely, and Gregory grins at her when a smile breaks out on her own face.

"No problem." He says. "Now, instead of moping around, how about we eat some of that cake and then go race in some go-karts?" Gregory throws out, pointing a finger at her Roxy colored stars clipped to her sweater.

She sniffs, rubbing away the rest of the upset that plagued her when she had been all alone (because she isnt anymore).

Cassie smiles, and she can still taste the salt on her lips, but she grabs her own plate and Gregory's, and goes to cut the cake.

"Wait!" Gregory stops her. "Arent you gonna make a wish?"

He gestures to the unlit candles, molded as the number twelve, and she pauses.

"They arent lit, though..." She points out.

"Leave it to me." is all Gregory says, and he pulls out a lighter from one of his pockets without a single elaboration as to why he even has one on him. He lights the candles, and pockets the lighter, grinning at her when he pulls back and then taking a deep breath.

"Happy Fazbear birthday, pizza games and cakes!" He starts singing, and Cassie cant help but burst into laughter when he exaggerates his voice in the same was Freddy does in the song.

Cassie almost cant blow out the candles because she keeps smiling, and it interrupts her every time she tries to blow, but eventually, the lights from the candles fizzle out, and Gregory's clapping along with his cheering echoes through the room, and Cassie cant help but feel her cheeks redden.

"Happy birthday, Cassie." Gregory grins, and Cassie, for once today, is happy.

Gregory wastes no time grabbing a frankly huge slice of carrot cake and stuffing his face, but Cassie lingers for just a moment longer, pausing.

I wish, She begins, ignoring how sappy her wish is about to be. that Gregory and I stay friends after today.

When Cassie grabs her own slice, an edge piece with a lot of frosting on it, Gregory starts jabbering to her with jokes and clever quips, and Cassie feels tears prick her eyes. This time not from the entirely silent room clouding her with sorrow, but from Gregory's boisterous laughter that sends her own stomach cramping from joining in.

ao3 link

[missazurerose]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Day 15

Extra credit - Tundra

(very minor DT spoilers for the tank role quest)

While the chocobos settled into a corner of the stall, Aymeric found some livestock blankets tucked away for them. Riona smiled as their birds happily cuddled up to each other while he covered them. “If the storm lasts too long, we might end up just like those two.”

He took her hand as they went downstairs, his thumb brushing against the opal ring on her finger. “Regardless of the circumstances, I can think of no better way to spend the night.”

Once they had a fire going, Aymeric shed his armor in favor of a heavy blanket. He settled onto the fur rug in front of the mantle and she settled into his lap. She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. 

“You're always so warm. Feels like home.”

[infiniteeight8]

#2, Random: 98. “The store ran out of Easter eggs.”

(from https://www.tumblr.com/winterhawkkisses/187435901065/drabble-challenge)

Stephen’s head is aching, his body is sore, and his bedclothes are unpleasantly damp with sweat. He desperately wants a shower, but he’s too exhausted to move. This is the state he’s in when Tony bursts through his bedroom door, declares, “The store ran out of Easter eggs,” and shoves a carton at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“Look,” Tony says, “I know it was the fever talking, but you were really insistent that you needed Easter eggs. I was in fear for my life if I didn’t at least try.”

Stephen sighs. “Just… help me into the shower.”

[k00kiecrumbler]

☆ RT-tober Day 13 and 14 ☆

no. 129: 2012 galaxy! RT [ always wanted to get one...]

no. 246: magical girl! RT [ just realized there's like zillion versions of magical girls on the docs...]

// click on photos because of the weird crop //