#some parts of this i like some parts i really hate whatcha gonna do

[quartergremlin]

mikey and leo have a heart to heart

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[cheralith]

to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader (part ii) 」

content warnings ; fem!reader, implied fem bodied!reader, use of she/her pronouns, reader wears dresses and makeup, mild violence mention

contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, angst, angst with some comfort, some fluff if you squint

word count ; 4.3k

notes ; at long last, here's the much waited part two! truly didn't expect the first part to blow up like it did, but i'm ever so grateful for all the support and the patience for those still here!

parts ; one two three (tba)

“Lyla, show me the nearest florist from here.”

“The nearest flower shop? That’s gonna be Business is Blooming on 27th Street—”

“27th Street?!” Miguel exclaims, his shock at the distance startling him and making his hands accidentally tighten the belt he was fixing much too tightly. He lets out a strangled choking sound and quickly loosens it before his legs lose oxygen, a feat that he’d hate to do just minutes prior to an event that could possibly change his life for the better. “That’s at least fifteen minutes away and on the opposite side of Clark! I’m already late, aren’t there any other ones closer?”

Lyla’s smaller holographic form pieces together on top of his full-body mirror that displays him in a formal-casual attire consisting of a cream turtleneck, black dress pants buckled with a coffee brown belt and topped altogether with a sepia overcoat that hadn’t seen the light of day since he bought it all those years ago. She puckers her grinning lips, a little amused at the rarity of Miguel in such an outfit and thinking he looks like a cup of coffee.

“Well, there’s always that crowded grocery store on Main?” she suggests as she examines her fingernails, instantly changing the pattern of them with a snap of her fingers. “But that’s gonna cost ya another twenty minutes and you’re already what—? Ten minutes late?”

Miguel fights off a groan at her teasing. “Lyla, I’m serious. Are there genuinely not any other ones around here? Any local ones? C’mon, this is Nueva York, there has to be at least one.”

“You could always try the marketplace. But then again, it’s Sunday so might not really be wise to take your chances,” Lyla shrugs.

Miguel even wonders if men these days still even have the dignity to give their partners flowers after realizing there is a significant lack of florists in today’s day and age. He wouldn’t be like them; flowers are a timeless gift everyone enjoys and he thinks if he can’t get it for you, he might as well not call himself a man at all. 

His eyes go to spot the window in the reflection of the mirror where the sun is beginning to finally set and the city’s nightlife is rising from the dead. Buildings of all heights buster from every corner and the open road that eradicates much of the land dissolves a weary pit in his stomach, obviously annoyed at the many obstacles that block his path. Miguel takes another glance at the clock, the minute hand inching closer and closer and closer to 6:00. The initial plans were to leave the apartment by 5:30, acquire some gifts for you and then travel to the restaurant by 6:00, but seeing as how he’s still trapped in his abode, Miguel thinks that he can only do so much.

But he realizes that’s for Miguel O’Hara, renowned Alchemax geneticist and full-time father. Miguel O’Hara, an everyday citizen, couldn’t possibly crunch so much in such little time.

For Spider-Man, however…

Lyla eyes him suspiciously and purses her lips when Miguel looks at his wrists and then at the window again. “I don’t think that’s wise, Miguel.”

“What’s wise?” he replies coyly, going to quickly shovel off his clothes to replace them with a familiar blue and red attire.

“I know whatcha gonna do,” Lyla says and glitches around him as he searches for his suit. “But it’s not gonna end well, I’m tellin’ ya right now, mister!”

Miguel shakes her caution off, too occupied with shuffling on his superhero suit onto his body before neatly tucking his other outfit into his hammerspaced pocket. “It’ll be quick, I swear. I just need to get her some flowers and then I’ll be on my way. Lock up the house for me, yeah?”

“You’re not gonna make it,” Lyla shakes her head. “Just ditch the flowers and get her something on the way instead.”

But the last of Lyla’s words don’t make it to Miguel’s ears, as he’s already slinging and gliding himself out of the window and toward the given address of the florist. Lyla can only watch in artificial disdain as Miguel’s figure grows smaller and smaller through the passing seconds. She sighs, rolling her eyes as she flickers off the apartment lights before disintegrating.

The roar of the city life grows louder and louder the more Miguel comes closer to the center of it where the flower shop lays. People gather in clusters bustling about all over, making him a little weary of himself as he stares at them from above a high tower. He’s not exactly an ordinary passerby that can easily maneuver their way through so easily—especially not with this getup. Spider-Man is also a name that rather became widespread across the city of Nueva York, meaning that even if one person were to see the flash of blue and red, he’s up for trouble. 

The evildoers tonight seem to be at cease, thankfully. He hasn’t heard of any malicious plotting or future events that will take place today by any of the supervillains that hunt him down like deer recently. Then again, there’s always smaller crimes still waiting to be stopped, but he’s sure the cops will come around for those. Miguel convinces himself it’ll just be a one time thing.

Yet when the familiar song of police sirens blare through the city, he twitches at the thought of leaving such miscreants in the hands of police when he’s sure he can take them down like an army of ten men.

But the police have ten men on them, so truly he can just leave it alone, right? He’s essentially in front of the flower shop that’s seated below an apartment building. All he has to do is just jump down, get the flowers, and leave in the nick of time. He doesn’t have time to dilly dally with low-rated criminals. 

Then again, when he spots the gang of robbers in two white vans speeding down the road at a blistering speed without any caution for pedestrians, Miguel grits his teeth. On their tail is a rally of five police cars that keep gaining and losing them by the second and Miguel isn’t sure whether the irritation was from his indecisiveness or the fact that if he didn’t do anything, there will be consequences.

Perhaps do both to ease his mind? No, he can’t do that. You’re most likely on your way to the restaurant, all dolled up and fresh-faced. He still would need the time to fix himself up in some dingy public bathroom. A cop car that’s been hiding in the corner joins the chase—that’s surely more than enough to take care of them?

Miguel’s eyes go back and forth... back and forth between the two sights. Anxiety is doing little to help his situation and a mist of sweat begins to form on his skin the more the seconds tick by, making the innermost part of his suit much more uncomfortable and moist. A clock hangs by an awning nearby that displays the haunting time of 6:03 PM, just twenty-seven minutes shy of the designated 6:30 meeting time.

He glances one more time at the chase, swallowing a thick lump in his throat when he sees the vans hurdle full speed toward an open street of walking pedestrians, all ignorant of the fact to what beholds them in just mere seconds.

Miguel curses under his breath.

It’ll only be this for today, no more after that.

Fatigued eyes go to watch as the last people leave the restaurant, leaving you isolated in your little corner both embarrassed and hungry due to the heavy lack of food served on your platter for tonight. The other waiters begin to scrub the tables and booths free of crumbs and topple the chairs onto them, indicating that tonight has drawn to its close. You think you’ve memorized the entirety of the menu at this point, considering it’s really all you’ve been averting your eyes towards to avoid the looks of others.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see the waiters and waitresses pitifully gossiping about you and a heat flashes onto your face by how incredibly desolate you’ve looked in the past three hours. Internally, you thank them for their patience and how they’ve tolerated your excuses for your date’s tardiness-turned-absence, knowing that it must be a pain to look after someone that hadn’t even ordered anything besides water for the time she had been here.

You don’t even wait for your waitress to come to your table for the nth time tonight, going by your own initiative to pack up your things. Your phone is still devoid of any notifications from Miguel, as well, even after the four calls, occasional text checkups, and last minute voicemailed question of a needed rescheduling if he so desired. 

What remains is just a grayed out Read, 7:47 PM underneath all the text bubbles.

“I… sincerely apologize if I loitered at all,” you murmur with your head half-down to the young host who shuffles the menus back into the lectern. “This was truly the last thing that I had expected from him…”

You instantly take back that statement the moment it leaves your lips. If anything, you should’ve known that this would’ve happened. Foolish you were—you’ve been with Miguel for the past three years, this was everyday behavior for him. You suppose this is how Gabriella must feel constantly and another heartache pits itself within you at the shared feeling.

The host shakes his head sympathetically. “You wouldn’t be our first case, I’m sure you didn’t have any ill intent. If anything, I’m the one sorry that he made you wait that long,” he replies with evident pity. “Whoever he is, he must be a dick for leaving such a pretty thing like you alone all night, ma’am.”

“Oh, he’s—” you fall short on your words, not even having the energy to sorely defend Miguel’s name. “Never mind…” you mutter.

“Do you need a cab?” asks the host, “Well actually, I’m about to clock out for tonight. I can drive you home, if you want. It’s the least I can do for you after tonight.”

You’re about to reply to him to turn down the offer, as you suspect he’s the type of guy to use women in these situations to his advantage, but the doors suddenly burst open to reveal the one and only in a hazy state and what seems to… flowers clutched in his hands? The petals, however, are corrugated and some have even completely drooped down from their stem. The paper that is supposed to guard them is wrinkled and torn at the corners. Almost all of the bouquet is wilted, much like your own composure for tonight. 

Miguel isn’t much better. Hair and clothes a little damp, he’s frazzled and evidently guilty, as his face pales when he sees your contrasting appearance. You’re adorned in an a-lined, half-sleeved royal blue dress that made you look so regal in comparison to your daily white blouse-black pants outfit that he's seen too much of. Not to mention additional details of your styled hair and accessories just brought out the best of your beauty that was wasted on essentially nothing this evening. 

“Mr. O’Hara…” you breathe when he passes through the door. The first thing that you notice automatically when his face properly comes into view is a sharply jagged, yet thin cut on the side of his cheek. “Did someth—”

“(Y/N), I’m so… so sorry,” he chokes out. “Something c-came up at work and they asked me to help them out… I’m sorry, I know I should’ve said no, but they were kind of on my ass about it and I got so caught up with it, so I wasn’t able to text you and—”

“She waited three hours,” the host drones and juts his thumb toward the dining area where all the chairs are laid atop the tables. Its lights flicker out, leaving only the foyer and smaller hallways lit so dismally in the night. “Until closing. She didn’t order anything in the meantime, so not only you left her alone tonight, you left her alone and hungry.”

“Hey listen, bud,” Miguel snaps at the host. He points a finger at him with irate in his eyes. “Not your business, so stay out of it.”

The host scoffs with a smirk on his face. “Not the first time I’ve heard that and certainly not the first time I’ve seen this happen. Guys like you always—”

You raise a hand to stop their bickering, afraid of what might happen if things escalate further as you really didn’t desire to do anything more than just sleep off your feelings. Both men stop and turn to look at you with concern on their faces.

“Do you still need that ride home?”

“Are you still hungry?”

A frustrated head shake finally silences the both of them. 

“I’m fine, thank you for the offer, though,” you say quietly to the host. You turn to Miguel, who swallows at the sight of your tired eyes. “May we talk outside? I’d hate to stay here any longer than I need to.”

Miguel attempts to excuse himself one more time, but when you begin to pace yourself toward the door without waiting for him, he realizes he can’t exactly make any more decisions of his own any more this evening. Not after choosing his heroic duties again and again for tonight instead of tending to you.

The moon and stars tonight have made their presence with the special guest of light rain coming in for a visit. The whisper of a drizzle ghosts itself on your goosebumps skin and the chill of a wind nips at your flesh. 

Miguel is quick to follow you. “I’m really sorry again, (Y/N),” he utters so softly that it makes your heart ache with familiarity. It’s the same tone of voice he’s used with Gabriella when at times, he wasn’t able to make it to her events or practices like he promised. “Are you still hungry by any chance? I know a good 24/7 diner that’s pretty close here.”

Without turning around, you politely shake your head and begin to search for any cabs coming your way. “I’ll be okay. I think I have some leftovers in the fridge that can suffice.”

The thought of you eating alone like he did on a night that you shouldn’t be sends shivers of guilt down Miguel’s spine. He curses himself at his past actions—deciding that it was stupid to catch those robbers who didn’t even put up much of a fight, to stop that gang brawl that was happening on the corner of 5th that was resolved the moment the elderly shopkeeper began to yell, to help that old lady that was certainly taking her sweet time to cross the street. They were such unbelievably mild crimes that he didn’t need to attend to, but did anyway even with the thought of you in mind.

Perhaps he should’ve had more faith in technology, because he’s sure Lyla was going to have much fun taunting him for the rest of the week. 

“You can keep the flowers, too,” you say softly when a cab begins to pull up. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think I have a vase to store them in unfortunately.”

Miguel’s grip on the dismal bouquet tightens, not even trying to fight your refusal as you get into a cab. He stops the door from closing just as you’re about to, trying one last time to make up for his actions. 

“At least let me pay for your cab,” Miguel whispers.

You know he’s sorry. You can see in his eyes the familiar gleam of woe that he’s given to his daughter. Your eyes go to flicker at the cut again, but you know that if you ask, he’s sure to give one his many excuses because it isn’t the first time he’s shown up with an injury before. And you don’t want to put yourself through that wall of verbal familiarity. 

With sorrow gentleness, you pry his fingers off the edge of the car and shut it, putting a physical barrier between you and Miguel. The eyes of the driver goes to pitifully glance at your state before beginning to rev up the engine.

You don’t even have the courage to share a glance towards Miguel one last time before the cab begins to drive off—your wallow of disappointment is deep enough as it is.

The rest of the week is agonizingly slow; Miguel dares to say it’s torturous, even.

He’s thankful you’re still acknowledging his existence and talking with him, but your conversations lack the usual warmth and gentle playfulness they often had. It was already lonely enough dealing with the lack of a third person like him at home, but the feeling of isolation felt even more scarring this time because when he came home late after your babysitting session, you didn’t bother with small talk with him, the only thing that made him realize he didn't have to do everything by himself alone.

You didn’t ask how the late shift was, how were the bosses treating him, if he was getting enough rest… no, you only kept him updated on his daughter's schoolwork and any future events regarding her and her only. Your words never included him or you, only finishing off with a goodbye and have a nice night.

At least you were still kind enough to fix him the usual leftovers.

Work itself wasn’t much better. Conversations were brief and the lab in which you two worked privately was filled with silence that was only broken with the occasional demands and directions of lab work. Sometimes a forced cough would sneak its way through Miguel’s lips if the silence began to disturb him too much. He attempted to make some at the beginning, asking how your day was and whether your father was on your tail again, but he was met with short, sharp responses. 

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Perhaps.”

“I’m not sure.”

Never have such words been so agonizing before. Ironic that they are because Miguel often hated it when people rambled and preferred it when conversations got to the point. He supposes, though, you get to the point too fast for his liking nowadays.

When he tried bringing up an explanation for Sunday’s events, you’d quickly shut it down as tenderly as possible, saying things along the lines of “It’s alright, your schedule is hectic. I can understand.” or “I just hope your work didn’t give you too much trouble.” You’re so polite about it that it hurts him. Miguel would much rather have you lash out and insult him than have you soften the landing that does barely anything to ease him because it feels like you’ve put on that mask you put in front of others—professional and orderly—and Miguel didn’t want to be seen as just a mere coworker, let alone your boss, to you.

His pride bites at his ankles. Lies coming out of his lips too regularly, he had to fib to Gabriella the morning after her sleepover when she asked about the date that you had fallen sick and weren’t able to make it. The disappointment on her face mimicked yours too eerily. She asked him if they were going to reschedule it. Miguel could only shrug his shoulders—he wasn’t even sure if you wanted anything to do with him after that event. 

At least nothing changed with you and his daughter. He’d still home to an apartment with you helping with homework or her helping with dinner or tucking her into bed. That’s all he could ask for right now.

Miguel still had the chance to redeem himself this week. There was the annual banquet held at a banquet hall to celebrate the yearly achievements Alchemax and those associated had accomplished, as well as discussing major plans for the future. It was a boring, yet formal event used for connections and idle chatter, something Miguel usually didn’t look forward to. Lyla suggested to him to convince you to go and that Gabriella would just have a one-time babysitter while you got to enjoy (or in your case, put up) with his company as he redeemed himself best as possible. You’re not one to talk with others you’ve never met, so he knew that you would most likely stick by his side for a sense of familiarity. 

It took a while, but you murmured you’d go under your breath to shake him off your tail. Miguel was elated, but it was quickly shut down halfheartedly by the reminder that you were still somewhat upset by Sunday’s incident, saying you’d take a cab to the banquet instead of driving with him like he offered.

No matter, as long as you were there by his side.

Miguel made sure that this time, he’d be out the door much earlier than the last, promising to never keep you waiting longer than a minute. A text on his phone pings that you’re near the back entrance, where the parking lot was so it’d be easier to find you. He swerves a little too harshly into the lot—either from nervousness or excitement or both—at the mention and had spotted you near the staircase adorned in a floor-length blushed, ivory pink halter gown with luminescent tulle, making you look like the human embodiment of an ocean pearl.

His eyes are so fixed on you that he didn’t realize he almost knocked himself straight into an oncoming BMW. The owner, a crabby old man he recognizes from human resources, swears and honks at him, making Miguel hide his face before hurriedly parking a little more safely. 

When he approaches you, he drinks you in your full glory. Everything about you is so fresh… so exhilarating. You’ve done your hair with a couple of clips this time, with more subtle jewelry this time. Your makeup looks tidy and perfect and Miguel enjoys the way it emphasizes your best features instead of morphing them. If only he was wiser on Sunday, he would’ve been able to savor a different version of you in blue. 

Nevertheless, you still manage to take his breath away with just a simple breath like you always have. It’s just that it was only recently had Miguel realized you had that ability and he’d be alright experiencing it again and again if it was with you.

“Mr. O’Hara?” you say and wave a soft wave in front of his face to break his trance. Somehow, you begin to grow self-conscious. Perhaps he didn’t like it? Maybe it was too revealing… the slit at the halter neckline did somewhat peek at your cleavage and you weren’t used to baring your shoulders out. “I-is everything okay?”

Miguel blinks a couple of times. His surroundings finally come into focus like your figure, making him realize how long he had been staring. “Apologies. I… never got to tell you this on Sunday, but I hope to do it now, (Y/N)... ” he clears his throat and straightens his posture, remembering to act everything out as practiced, before softly whispering with evident fondness that, “You look beautiful, tonight.”

A spark of surprise shocks your features for a brief moment, before your usual modesty is displayed again. Eye contact is broken, for you can’t fathom the thought of someone like Miguel O’Hara, favored in every possible way, would be complimenting you so casually. “Oh um. Thank you,” you choke out halfheartedly. 

Miguel leans over slightly over your figure and tucks a lock of stray hair behind your ear. If he wanted to truly make up for what happened, he was going to have to go all out tonight, even if that meant rocketing out of his comfort zone. He just barely catches you hitching a breath at the semi-intimate of physical contact as he tries his best to hide his own when he murmurs in your ear again. 

“I’m not saying it out of manners, I’m saying it factually,” he mumbles, eyeing the passersby that stare in wonder at you. Some ego swells inside of him at the jealous looks that are given to him. “You’ve bewitched me and many others already.”

You stray your gaze away at him with your hands fiddling at the skirt of your dress. “You didn’t have to, but thank you for the dress, by the way,” you murmur timidly. “I’ve never heard of a brand called Lyla, but I admit, this dress of theirs is rather nice.”

Miguel furrows his brows at the mention before Lyla briefly appears on your head, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up before disappearing. It doesn’t take Miguel long to realize that Lyla had shipped something so pristine to you without his permission, though he supposes that she had done him and you a favor given how majestic you look tonight. 

He lets out a soft breath of a chuckle before shaking his head. Maybe he’ll give her some upgrades in return.

You turn your head behind you, not knowing what he was looking at. “Is something wrong? Is there something in my hair?”

“No, no. Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts…” Miguel interjects before offering his arm to you. “We should get going. I’d hate for a dress like this to go to waste for only my eyes.”

Internally, Miguel wanted to be selfish. He wanted to be greedy and have you all for himself, savor your every move tonight, have you and him be the only ones in this place. He didn’t want anyone to look towards your direction and have you look at anyone else besides him. A little venomous thought of people not realizing you had so much more potential than they realized embeds in himself, and that their awe for tonight was too artificial. He wanted more and to give you more, but then again, he’s still Spider-Man at the end of the day, the impossible man that somehow does it all and faces the consequences head on. He can only offer a regular day citizen like you so much.

But for now, he’ll make do with what he can. Not as Spider-Man this time, but as Miguel O’Hara.

a/n ; hi yeah don't panic, there'll be a part three lmfao i lied lolol. most likely it'll be the last part to this little series i've got going, too, since i think making it a fully fledged series would kind of lead some things astray for me. that doesn't mean the end of the miggy o'hare writings, however! still will most definitely attempt to write for him bc bro's GLORIOUS

thank you all for the patience for part ii, and i hope to see that part iii comes out asap! i'll give updates for it as always, but in the meantime, thank you for reading and likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and infinitely appreciated ( ˘ ³˘) ♡ !

taglist ; @secretlyrexlapis @urbimom @p1nkliquor @julesclues @averagefloydlover @apurpletrashcan @toofsfairys @raeisthebae (for those with strikethroughs, i'm not able to tag you for some reason :(!)

[lale-txt]

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 (𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟏: 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

♫ Middle Kids - Bootleg Firecracker

I'll be your midnight bootleg firecracker I could blow up in your hand It could be great or a disaster That's the point that I am after

✰ 𝐜𝐰: the panic attack from the prologue is continuing here for a bit! written part between the handwritten notes and SMAU parts.

⭅ back to m.list

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Everything is on autopilot; it always is when the panic takes over. The blood rushing in your ears, the air squeezed out of your lungs, the blurry tunnel vision. Your shaky hands slam a few banknotes too many on the counter but you don’t wait for the change back; you’re out the door already when a voice is calling out to you, but you ignore it. Everything in you is telling you to run.

Foolish. So damn foolish. You’ve always been like that, haven’t you? Falling in love with the idea of someone; blindly following a siren call only to turn into a wreck. It’s a familiar pain, there’s a strange sense of safety in it. Don’t fly too close to the sun, don’t get loved too much, or else you’ll burn yourself.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

Makki is talking relentlessly to you on the phone. He knows how quiet you get once the anxiety kicks in, how you can’t focus on anything but the overwhelming urge to run, how hard something as simple as breathing is when you get into your head like this. You wish he were here to hold your hand through this. You wish you never came here at all. You wish you weren’t so desperate to be loved.

Are you outside? Okay, good. Can you sit down somewhere till Bokuto picks you up? A bank maybe? Oh, wait, your location says there’s a playground right around the corner. You see it? Do they have swings? Remember in high school when Oikawa kissed the ground face first when we challenged each other who could swing the highest? You and I laughed so hard we almost had an accident. And of course Hajime won, stupid beefy monster that he is. Bet he’d still do, we should really try it out next time we’re all visiting home. Ah, there’s a vending machine? I knew that beeping was familiar. Whatcha gettin’? The same juice box like you always do? You know what we should do tomorrow when you get home? Grab some boba from the store you had pinned forever, my treat.

The tight knot in your chest is slowly unraveling as you listen to your best friend’s voice. In the background you occasionally hear Yukie munching on something, probably the vegetable chips you made yesterday. She’s less calm than Makki is, you can tell from the lack of blissful humming she usually does when eating and her hushed voice, asking Akaashi when Bokuto will get there. Despite everything, you manage to let out a small, hoarse laugh. At least it will make a great story with some water down the bridge.

“There you are.”

A warm voice, kind. Almost familiar, as if you’ve heard it in a dream before. You look over your shoulder and freeze, almost dropping your juice box. It’s not Bokuto, but the same guy from Onigiri Miya who you snapped at earlier when he asked if you were alright, while blotches of snot were dripping on your half-eaten onigiri. You feel hot shame creep up your neck, your heart rate picking up again. He tips his cap back a bit to get a better look at you under the dim light of the street lantern and you feel the urge to flee again.

“You were gone so fast, I couldn’t give you this,” he puffs, as if he actually ran after you. He holds up a brown paper bag, the logo of the shop stamped on it. “Since you didn’t seem to enjoy the onigiri you had at the shop, I packed you some more to eat when you’re feeling more like it.”

“That’s not necessary” you mutter while your eyes dart left and right, searching for a way to escape this situation. Somehow he is making your skin crawl; not because you feel like he’s gonna harm you, but because he makes you feel seen and you really, really hate that.

“Please.”

He takes a step towards you and shoves the bag into your hands, almost making you drop your phone. Makki on the other end calls out your name, sounding slightly concerned, but who wouldn’t be when their friend was approached by a stranger at night in an unfamiliar place far, far away from home?

“I don’t want it,” you say, your voice a bit more steady now. Your brows furrow and for the first time you look back at him. Somehow your panic is slowly getting replaced by irritation. Just what was his problem? “You’ll get in trouble when your boss finds out that you’re giving out stuff for free.”

This makes him laugh; a sound so clear and warm, washing away your worries for a fleeting second. How strange.

“It’s sweet that you worry, but I am the boss,” he replies with a smug smile and uses the second of surprise to firmly plant the paper bag into your hands. His fingers graze your skin and you can’t help but notice how warm they are; and you think about flying close to the sun again and it makes you want to cry.

Everything in you wants to run from this kindness. Run, before someone can notice that you don’t actually deserve it. You’re good at that, aren’t you? 

For a few heartbeats you’re too stunned to speak and the bag with onigiri weighs heavy in your hands. Hot shame crawls up your spine and your neck again, remembering how you cried at the counter and snapped at him like a hurt dog. Why would he even come after you, when you’ve already made your best effort to push him away? To get rejected again? You couldn’t even fathom to imagine.

“Hold up,” you say eventually when he’s about to turn around and leave, probably sensing your discomfort. You wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, with this faint smile playing upon his lips and his dark eyes searching yours, searching for something you could never offer and yet you can’t look away either. Your stomach is doing a funny little flip. 

From the depths of your bag you pull out the marred box of cupcakes you still have with you and hold them out for him. You don’t dare to look inside, but you can imagine they must look like a hot mess by now (probably even worse than you feel at this moment). 

“They’re lemon lavender cupcakes,” you explain and look away, rubbing the back of your neck. “After my own recipe. I baked like ten trays of them last night and those are from the best batch but I doubt they’re still any good now. The rest I left with my roommates, though honestly they’re not the best food critics and just happy when they’re being fed.”

Without noticing, your voice gets a bit more steady and excited now that you get to ramble about food, your brain pleased over the distraction. It’s the one thing that always helped with the panic. Your fingers are still fiddling, your weight shifting from one foot on the other, but your breathing is calmer now and the instinct to run is subsiding. 

“The lavender syrup I used for them is homemade, too. Tastes great with some sparkling water and mint. We grew the lavender I used on our rooftop garden. I’ll admit I’m not the best at keeping plants alive, but Akaashi does that for us thankfully, he’s amazing. I also have some tomatoes growing there, and tomato salad in this summer heat just hits differently in my opinion. Anyway, sorry for the cupcakes, I don’t know why I gave them to you, they’ve probably gone bad by now so you can just throw them out and–”

“What’cha talkin’ about? These are amazing,” the guy mutters with his mouth full, one smushed cupcake in his hand that he took a big bite out of like an apple, buttercream at the corner of his mouth. You snap out of your haze and blink at him as he takes another big bite, eyes widening and head nodding approvingly as he chews. 

He doesn’t seem like he’s lying or doing it only out of politeness–because you obviously had a very bad night���no; it’s as if he’s genuinely enjoying the food you made. Something inside of you twists again and it’s all too much. 

Thank fuck you don’t have to think about this any further, because the familiar face of Bokuto appears from around the corner, eyes lightening up when he recognizes you as well. He waves from a distance and you grab your things, hurrying past the boy who makes your tummy feel funny and towards Akaashi’s boyfriend who holds out his arms for you. You fling yourself into them for a quick hug and then quickly drag him away, unable to think about anything but putting some distance between… well, everything. 

“Was that Myaa-sam? You know him?”, Bokuto asks when he shoulders your bag, one arm around you as you walk back to his place. He’s not loosening his grip around you and you have a good idea what Akaashi must have ordered him to do: Don’t leave Y/N alone until she’s on her train back tomorrow.

“His onigiri are the best! I always tell Kashi he should bring you some when he’s here but he has no self-control and eats them all in one go. They taste best fresh anyway, you should try them while you’re here,” Bokuto rambles. You’re grateful for it, though. It’s easier than having to explain everything that happened and why your heart seems unable to stop pounding, and it helps you not to scream when really it’s all you want to do right now.

✽ 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐫𝐮𝐧…

only a handful fun facts because this chapter is long as it is heh

yes the Tokyo group can afford an apartment with a rooftop garden. no i don't know how. one of them is secretly rich i guess (probably Makki)

Kiyoomi and Y/N sang Good Luck, Babe! 31 times that night

Atsumu makes a horrible bartender but somehow no one is stopping him either

Y/N likes to scribble every fleeting thought down because otherwise she will forget them in a heartbeat

grocery store runs together are one of her favorite activities with friends

✰ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

@brithedemonspawn @notverymarley @yuminako @gigiiiiislife @wyrcan

@krissiekris @kentocalls @simp-simp-no-mi

send me an ask or dm to be added (or removed, no hard feelings ♡)! minors DNI!

[artificialbreezy]

i was antsy about my biker folio world and just wanted share snippet of it that doesn’t really fit in the actual one shot i’m writing.

CW: indications of weed and smoking, smut, shy!reader, inexperienced!reader, nicks got a filthy mouth, flirty nick needs its own warning, lots of dialogue sorry bro, a real shit ending (why are endings so mf hard????)

it was late, the sun had gone and went. your front porch no longer the place to be reading. those solar lights in your back yard with a blanket in the hammock when just where you wished you were.

grabbing your blanket and book, you were quick to run outside. if anyone asked you your favorite part about being an adult, it was this. staying up late, reading in the dark in a big comfy hammock.

you were quickly pulled from your thoughts by the weird smell and a subtle cough from next door.

“sorry sweetheart! i didn’t mean to distract you.” your neighbor yelled over the fence. you just waved at him, a silent signal it was okay.

you don’t know what was wrong with you, you could talk to him outside of your little hi every day you saw him. he just made your brain short circuit, it was better to not speak than embarrass yourself.

before you know it, he was leaning against the fence with his hands over on your side. “ya know sweet thing, you stare a lot for someone who doesn’t talk to me. you see something you like looking at? cause i can name a couple things i like looking at and they all start with you.”

your throat was dry, eyes a little wide and face bright fucking red. words wouldn’t come from your mouth. you just stared at the man at the fence.

“what’s the matter sweets? not gonna talk to me now? i’d love nothing more-“ he grunted a little as he hopped the fence. “than to hear your pretty voice say my name again. can you do that for me, pretty girl?” he was standing directly in front of you now. there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. you had to face him now.

“Nick..” your voice was barely above a whisper. you swear if he wasn’t watching your mouth he wouldn’t have heard you.

“don’t think i heard you fully, try it again.”

“Nick…” a little louder now.

“oh no, honey. that’s not my name. whatcha call me out in the driveway?”

“Nicky.”

“atta girl, can i touch you?”

you almost choked on your own spit.

“uh, um. yeah. yeah. okay, sure.”

his hand reached down to yours, pulling you up and out of the hammock. “come on, let’s go inside. somewhere that Janet is gonna get a free show.” he chuckled mentioning your grumpy old neighbor who hated hearing his bike rev at 10:30pm.

“a free show?”

his hand was on the slider door, opening it as he spoke. “you’re real sweet ya know? yeah honey. was making a reference to us doing something. but i won’t do anything if you don’t want too. i’m okay just talking too.” he was comforting and soft.

“no! i want too! i just, im nervous. i haven’t had a whole lot of experience with that kind of stuff. i mean! i’ve had sex. i’m not just a virgin. just, not a lot. dear god i’m gonna shut up now.”

he smiled down at me, “more than happy to do whatever you want. think you deserve it really. always such a good girl.”

he sat himself in the recliner in my den, “right here.” he was pointing to the floor between his legs. “want you to sit, gonna go over some stuff.”

“need you to know, been thinking about this alot. have been for a while too. just been too nervous to talk to you. wanna do this at your pace, whatever you want today we’ll do. and don’t fret, we can do more stuff later. don’t feel rushed. we got months and years ahead of this okay?”

“can i ask you something?”

he nodded, hand setting on top of mine that was settled above his knee.

“um, can you show me what you like? wanna do it for you. read about some things and i wanna feel that.”

he smirked, eyes brows raised a little. “read what baby?”

“just like. head and stuff. but i wanna do it how you like it.”

“happily honey. just wanna make me happy huh? wanna be just what i want you to be don’t you?” he pushed his sweatpants down just enough that his dick was leaning against his stomach.

“just gonna start slow, okay? couple kisses, hands on my thighs. then you’re gonna- fuck, your lips feel good. gonna kiss the tip a little, there you go. tongue out a second. atta girl. just stay like that a minute. wanna put this view into memory.”

mouth wide, tongue out just, cock resting against it. feeling the weight of him in my mouth was all i wanted. this was comforting.

“alright, lick the underside. all the way down and then back up. and just like those popsicles you’re always eatin. suck a little bit, relax your jaw baby.”

his hands went to my hair, gently guiding me where he wanted me to be. holding my head still, and taking whatever he wanted.

“honey your mouth is like heaven. real fucking close already. come on, off. don’t wanna make you gag right now. gotta work you up to that.”

“wanna feel you down my throat, Nicky. please?”

“open your mouth. just like before. tongue out.”

my knees were starting to get sore, but i wanted to make him proud. wanted him to come back again. watching him stroke himself was going to be forever burned into my brain. feeling his load against my tongue was gonna be there for a while.

“come on, let’s get you off the floor honey. i’m proud of you sweetheart. gonna have to tell me about your books tomorrow though. what other filth are you reading, huh?”

[milkywaydrabbles]

kinktober 25 with rindou!!! 🔛🔝 kanto manji uniform

A/N: Honestly Rindou in uniform brain go brr. I am a firm believer that 18/19 year old Rindou is an obnoxious show off, fluffing his feathers up whenever he can. Cocky little shit in this fic and I'm into it. I hope you like it!! Mwuah!!

Uniform x Haitani Rindou

Your head was pounding. The bright light of your computer making you miserable--you’ve been trying to study the same material for the last three hours, and you were growing tired of trying. You thought if you kept looking at the screen your head would combust. It was time to take a break. Stretching your arms over your head, you felt all the joints release a crack that had you groaning. Looking around you realized you were the only one left in the library of your university. At least in your general area. Looking down at your phone you realized not only was it well into the evening but you had three missed phonecalls from your boyfriend. ‘Shit’. You gathered your things as quickly as you could into your bag and slung it over your shoulder before giving him a call back. It only rung once. 

‘Jesus Christ would it kill you to pick up the phone?’ He sounded annoyed but you knew better than to think it wasn’t him just masking it to not show how worried he really was about you. ‘Thought I was gonna have to fuck some people up to find you’ You rolled your eyes, smiling as he spoke. Always so dramatic.

“Sorry, Rin, I was in the library and I lost track of time. I have that big test coming up you know? Just want to be prepared.” You sighed, thinking that when you got back to your dorm you should try studying some more, even if it’s another part of the curriculum. There was never enough time to digest all the information your shitty ass professors wanted you to learn but somehow you needed to figure it out. ‘You’re stressing yourself out too much, just relax babe.’  You snorted on the line, biting your tongue. As if the amount of times your gang affiliated boyfriend knocking on your student housing apartment covered in bruises and blood that may or may not be his didn’t stress you out. “Yeah yeah, I’m heading home now though, stay on the phone with me?” ‘ Of course, baby.’

-

You’d gotten off the phone with Rindou a few minutes before getting to your door, saying he needed to finish a few loose ends before giving you a call again. So imagine your surprise when you walk into your one bedroom with none other than Rindou already inside. “Jesus!” You gasped, holding onto your chest like your heart was going to pop out. “You can’t just!....” your scolding trailed off, eyes scanning the new clothing on him. Rindou smirked, uncrossing his legs from your couch and leaning back, arms splayed behind the couch. “Whatcha lookin’ at, pretty girl?” You shook your head, trying to pull yourself out of a daze and dumping your bag at the door, along with your shoes. “What are you wearing, Rin? I’ve never seen that.” You mumbled, making your way over to him and sitting with your legs up to your chest next to him on the sofa. 

“We got new uniforms. You like ‘em?” 

Like was the understatement of the century. You loved it. It looked so clean, white made him look real cleaned up. Plus, even if you hated it (not really, you lair) seeing bright blood splatters on the crisp linen would be bad ass (as long as it’s not his!) But you had to play it cool, so you nodded, casually picking at your nails. He knew you better than that. Rindou patted his thigh with a grin, “come here, pretty. You’re too far.” he couldn’t help but coo when he saw how you scrambled from your corner onto his lap, hands running across his shoulders and thumbing the lapels. “It’s nice, Rinnie..” you whispered, feeling the embroidery on the sides of the sleeves. Your head was in turmoil: the new uniform was definitely doing it for you, trying your best to contain your horny little brain. “You look...good, in white.”  He let you keep tracing the fabric, seeing your pupils dilate and your mouth part. It was kind of hot, seeing how horny you were getting just by seeing him in uniform. Maybe he’d have to stop by after meetings more often. 

“What are you thinking, baby?” Rindou grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him with flushed cheeks. “Nothing!” Your voice cracked, clearing your throat before trying again. “Nothing.” He hummed, peering over his glasses. “You wanna fuck?” “Rin!” He couldn’t help but laugh, at how sweet you were for him, really. How he landed you and had you stick around he’ll never know. “Come on baby, lemme fuck the stress outta you. Missed you today.” He mumbled against your skin, kissing your jaw, trailing down your neck, pulling at your shirt to expose a shoulder and bite at the juncture that met your throat. You gasped, holding on tightly at the lapels of the jacket and bucking your hips onto him. “Missed you too, Rindou...” a hand made its way to his long locks, scratching at his scalp while he continued to give you attention. His hands made their way to your chest, grabbing and groping at your tits. “Strip for me, baby.” His voice held authority, your skin feeling like it was on fire. You nodded, getting up from his lap to practically rip your clothes off of you. “Does my pretty baby like my uniform?” He teased, cupping your ass when you stood between his legs. “Mhm” You nodded, moving to sit back on his lap but he stopped you with a hand. “Why don’t you suck me off, pretty girl?” felt much less like a question and more like a demand, one you couldn’t say no to. You knelt between his legs, shaky hands unbuckling his belt and zipping down the pants--pulling out his hardened cock from its confines. He spread his legs wide, making himself bigger. One hand smoothed down your hair while the other lay behind the couch. “Go ahead baby, show me how much you like my uniform.”

Your lips were on him in an instant. Pressing wet sloppy kisses on his head and shaft, tongueing his cock. He held his hand on your head, not moving you but keeping pressure. He lifted his hips slightly when you moved to take him in your mouth, pressing his cock into your cheek and seeing it bulge. “Fuck, baby, look so good taking my big dick.” your lashes fluttered at the praise, slurping his cock into your mouth. You were messy, drooling already with spit bubbling at the sides of your mouth. Rindou moaned above you, throwing his head back in pleasure when he saw just how nasty you were sucking him off. “Didn’t know this would do it for you” he laughed, taking your hair in his hand like a makeshift ponytail. “Wanna come see me fight like this? In my uniform? I’d win, and fuck you right after.” Your pussy clenched around nothing, pushing yourself to take more of him. You looked at him through teary lashes, nose touching his pubes as you gurgled around him. “Fuck! Just like that, slutty baby, keep going.” You whimpered around his cock, taking him just how he wanted it. You’d do whatever he asked when he was dressed like this, mind completely turning into mush. Your hand worked in tandem with your mouth, flicking your wrist and jerking him as you suckled on his tip, laving your tongue over the slit. Rindou hissed, pulling your hair to tip your head back, his own hand taking over for yours and jerking his cock. “Open your mouth, baby, gonna shoot my load over your face.” He panted, taking a mental picture of you sitting so pretty with your hazy eyes unfocused and tongue lolling out, waiting patiently for his cum. He moaned, bucking his hips as he shot sticky ropes of cum on your tongue and face, dripping from your forehead to your cheeks, smearing what was left on his tip on your tongue, giving it a few smacks before leaning back and letting go of your hair.

“Fuck babythat was so hot.” He exhaled deep, hoisting you up from your knees back onto the couch. His fingers rubbed at your pussy, that had been dripping onto your floor. He grinned wicked, pressing his already hardening cock between your pussy lips.

“Now I’m gonna fuck you with it on, okay baby?”

[dreamofbecoming]

part two, this one is still mostly stobin and pre-steddie. the first part does provide some context, although i imagine you could figure most of it out yourself, but i'd recommend reading it first anyway!

ao3

part 1

platonic stobin, mentions of steddie

rating: t

wc: 3k

---

The conversation dies down and Steve goes back to filling bottles to hand off to Robin, eyes on Dustin where he's still goofing off with Munson. Good, he should get to have as much fun as he can. This is what he should be doing. What they should all be doing. Steve hates that these kids have to be fucking…soldiers so much of the time. He hates that he can't do anything to shield them from it. Not that they'd let him if he could.

Maybe Robbie has a point, about regular teenage life stuff being pointless right now, but god, what the fuck? Why should it have to be? He's 19! He can't even buy a drink yet! Robin is still in high school!

Fuck it. They should get to be kids and think about stupid pointless stuff, too.

"So I know you said you didn't want to talk about your love life, which is fair, but if I keep thinking about dying I'm gonna lose my shit, so you wanna talk about mine?"

She raises an eyebrow at him. "Oh, are we talking about how fucking weird shit has been between you and Nancy?"

Ah, fuck, that backfired almost immediately.

"What? No. Definitely not. Ok, it's been weird, but it's not a thing, ok?" She looks even more skeptical than before. "It's not! I mean, ok, maybe it is," she snorts at him, which. Rude. "But it's just like. Regular weirdness, ok?"

"What the fuck is regular weirdness?"

"You know, like, exes who haven't talked in a while in a high-pressure situation weirdness. The kind of weirdness anyone would be having in our shoes. Normal weirdness!" He throws his hands in the air, agitated.

Munson looks over at the sound of his raised voice, lifting an eyebrow and smirking. What is it with everyone raising their eyebrows at him today? He's being normal! Normal and regular! It's not his fault everything around them is weird and that makes his normal look weird by comparison. He's not doing anything wrong, so get off his nuts already! Geez!

Steve isn't sure how much of that very normal and regular monologue shows on his face, but it must be some because he can see Munson laughing at him as he goes back to playing keepaway with Dustin's hat. Bastard.

"Ugh! No, I don't want to talk about Nance. Like I really super don't. There's nothing there, it's done, it's over, there's nothing to say."

"Yeah, I wouldn't want to talk about that debacle in the bus either. Six kids, Steve? Really?" Oh Jesus. He was really hoping no one had heard that.

"Bobbie, please, why are you torturing me?" He rarely deploys the Sad Eyes on Robin, mostly because they don't work especially well on her, which is insane, because they work like an atom bomb on literally everyone else. He may have left King Steve behind him, but he has plenty of skills left over from those days, not to mention he looks as good as he always has. He knows what he's working with, ok?

Anyways, this is a moment to pull out the big guns, which means Sad Eyes are a go.

As usual, they aren't as effective on Robbie as they are on other people, but she does know him well enough to realize that if he's pulling them out, it's out of desperation, so she takes pity on him anyway. Whatever. He'll take the win.

She sighs, and rolls her eyes indulgently, but she's smiling just a little. He can tell. God, he loves her. He'd burn the world down for her, is maybe going to have to. He doesn't know what he'd do without her.

"Alright, bubba, I'll bite. You want to talk about your love life, but you don't want to talk about Nancy. Whatcha got for me?"

And, oh. Shit. This is the part where he's going to have to say it out loud. He hadn't planned this far, mostly was just anxious to get the swirling feeling in his chest out into Robbie's hands because he knows she can keep it safe, mostly just trying to wipe that awful, scared, defeated look off her face, but now he has to actually do the thing. He has to say it out loud, on purpose, the way he hasn't since that day in her bedroom when his whole world shifted a little to the left, and she was the only thing holding him steady.

Fuck. Ok. He can do this. It's just Rob. No one else is close enough to hear them, and Robin will always keep him safe. She'll never let him be alone.

"So, uh. You know the, uh, the thing? That we talked about that one time?"

"Yeah, we talk every day, I'm gonna need a bit more than that, bubs."

"The, uh. The thing we decided we didn't have to talk about right away? Because it wasn't important? Or, no, it was important, but it wasn't, um. What did you say? Relevant. It wasn't relevant to my everyday life?"

"Relevant to your…oh! Oh shit! The thing! The thing we talked about! That thing!" Her eyes are wide and so so blue and her hands are flailing a little, like she wants to pat him down for injury even though that's not remotely helpful. He carefully takes the bottle out of her hand and stuffs the rag into it himself, setting it on the ground where she can't dump gasoline on herself. She smiles a little sheepishly.

"So what about the, uh, the thing?" She lowers her voice like she's in a goddamn spy movie, leaning close and waggling her eyebrows. She's so ridiculous. He loves her so much.

He gives her a pointed look. She shakes her head in response, looking confused. Jesus fuck, she's gonna make him say it.

He tries one more time, bobbing his head at her to try and make his facial expression more forceful. He doesn't miss his old crowd, really, he doesn't. He does, however, occasionally miss being around people who were constantly alert for even the smallest social shifts, who he could have a whole conversation with using nothing but subtle changes to the shape of his mouth or the width of his eyes. He loves Robin and Dustin more than life, would kill or die for them, has proven it several times over, but Christ on a cracker they wouldn't know a social cue if it whacked them in the head with a hammer.

She's still furrowing her brow at him, so he sighs, and gives in. "I think it's maybe become…relevant. I promised to tell you right away, remember?"

Her eyes go even wider than before, and she thwaps him in the chest with the back of her hand. Hard. Ow.

"Dingus!" She's whisper-shouting, but he still doesn't think anyone is close enough to hear. "What the hell!"

"Ow, Robbie, Jesus, watch the open wounds!"

She flutters her hands around his middle, like she can fix his bandages through his jacket. She does look apologetic, so that's something.

"Sorry, sorry, fuck, sorry! Are you ok? Sorry. Just, what the hell! What? Who? When?!"

He smirks at her. "What, no why or how?"

"I'm going to set you on fire with one of these cocktails if you don't start talking, Dingus, I swear to god!"

He's laughing, she's so much fun to rile up. God, he hopes he doesn't have to miss this. He hopes he gets to keep this much, at least, when they're done. He'll probably go crazy otherwise.

"Ok, ok, I won't tease, I'm sorry. So I guess, to answer your questions, uh…I found a boy to crush on, who the hell do you think, and I promised to tell you right away, didn't I?" He counts them down on his fingers while he answers them, because if he can't act like a little shit to her then honestly, what is even the point?

"Right away…holy shit. Holy shit! Steve!" She looks frantically out at the field, where Munson has now knocked Henderson over and is sitting on him, wearing his hat and crowing victory, while Dustin flails wildly on the ground. Thank fuck neither of them are looking this way, because holy hell she isn't subtle.

"Robbie, don't look, what the hell! Do you want him to know we're talking about him?"

"Oh, so we are talking about him? Eddie "The Freak" Munson?"

He cringes a little at the reminder of his earlier dismissal. "Alright, ok, so I maybe didn't give him much of a chance at first, but the Upside Down changes things, you know that! It did for us, right?"

She looks thoughtful. "I guess, yeah. So go on, loverboy, what do you like about him?" She's grinning and waggling her eyebrows again. Ugh, this may have been a mistake. She does owe him for the Tammy Thompson thing. Still, there's no one alive he'd rather talk about this with, and he has to talk to someone, or he's going to explode, and they have a…wizard…demon…thing…guy to kill. Whatever. They have killing to do, so he needs to get this off his chest so it's not clogging up his brain.

"He has…really nice eyes. And really nice hands." Robin lets out a soft "Oh, ew," before he glares at her and she motions for him to go on. "He's funny, and weird but in like, a charming way? Kind of like you, but different. The way Dustin is weird and charming like you, but different, you know?"

"You have a thing for nerds, Dingus."

"Ugh, maybe, yeah." His mind drifts back to Eddi- Munson. Gotta keep calling him Munson, at least until they get out of this. Can't afford to be distracted. "He's scared out of his mind, but he's coming along anyway, which is the kind of brave and stupid this whole group kind of runs on. He thinks he's a coward but he's not. Going back to school instead of dropping out is brave. Trusting us is brave. Acting like he does even when everyone hates him for it is brave. I wish I had been brave enough to do that, you know? Maybe I would have dropped the King shit earlier. And he's good with the kids, which you know I'm weak for. I don't know, Robs, I just…I want him to like me, you know? I want him to be impressed by me. Is that stupid?"

When he looks up, Robin's eyes are wide and shiny. She looks surprised, and a little scared. That's not good, probably, but he can't take back anything he said. He meant all of it.

"It's not stupid, bubba, it's not stupid at all. I guess I was thinking…I don't know. That it was like an adrenaline thing? Like a 'you're hot, we're in danger, I'd rather think about making out with you than dying' kind of thing? Like what Nancy was clearly doing with you earlier, you know?"

"Ugh, Robbie, I so don't want to talk about Nancy right now, please," he groans.

"Yeah yeah, I know, whatever. I just mean, it doesn't really sound like that's what's going on with you, for Eddie, right now. It kinda sounds like you, you know, like like him."

"Like like him? What are we, 12?"

"You know what I mean, Dingus, it just sounds like there are actual feelings here, not just sexy thoughts."

He shifts a little on his stool, feeling kind of exposed, but it's ok. It's just Robin. "I mean, yeah, I guess I kinda do? Have feelings. Or maybe I will? I'm kind of trying to hold them off, I guess, until we get out of here, you know? I barely know the guy, honestly, but also every time this happens I end up bonded for life to someone new, so why not him this time? I mean, the first time with the demogorgon even got me and Nancy back together, and we were like, donezo, for real, after that thing Tommy did to The Hawk. This shit is better than superglue, you know?"

Robin barks out a laugh. She squares her shoulders and puts on her best announcer voice. "Do you have trouble making friends? Looking to join a new crowd, but can't find a way in? Try Hell Beasts! Our near-death experience package will create lasting trauma that will bind you together forever! There's no escape now!"

The two of them collapse into giggles, drawing the eyes of several their friends scattered around the field.

When she composes herself, Robin gives him a soft smile. It's one of his favorites. Almost no one ever sees it but him, and not very often. "Well, I guess we had better all make it out of this in one piece, then, huh? So we can do all our sad gay pining together."

"I dunno, I think maybe I have a shot," he says thoughtfully, eyeing Edd- no, stop it, Munson, where he's flopped on the grass next to Dustin, chatting happily.

Robin boggles at him. "What the fuck do you mean, a shot? Are you- oh god, are you just gonna tell him? Steve!"

"Wh- Not right away or anything! And not for sure! I have to figure out if he's flagging on purpose first!"

"If he's whatting on what?"

"Oh come on, you remember that one zine that talked about the, uh. The whats it. The code! The hanky code, that was it!" He snaps his fingers in victory, triumphant.

She's still looking at him like he's grown a second head though, so maybe not.

"I don't know, maybe you skipped that one? From what I could tell it was more about men anyway. I think they mentioned that ladies use, uh, caribou. The clip things, you know?"

"Caribeeners? Dingus what the hell are you talking about?"

"It's this thing, right? That like, gay people, gay men, I guess, use to like, signal each other, kind of. It's basically like, you wear a hanky in your pocket, and what color it is and what pattern is printed on it and which pocket you wear it in tells people what kind of sex you like."

Robin looks even more shocked, if that's possible. "What does that even mean, what kind of sex you like?"

Oh, right. Lesbian virgin. Fair enough. "Like, do you like to uh. Give, if you know what I mean. Or receive. Do you like blowjobs, or handjobs, or like. I dunno, weird stuff. Like spit or whatever."

She's waving her hands frantically, her face screwed up. "Ahhhh lalalala that's enough! That's plenty of information, thank you!" He holds up his hands in surrender. She asked.

"Anyway, what does all of...that...have to do with you having a shot with," she switches back to her not-at-all-subtle stage whisper, "Eddie?"

"Haven't you noticed he's had that bandana in his pocket the whole time?" She whips her head around so fast he's surprised he doesn't hear her neck crack. Jesus, Robin.

"Would you chill out? You're going to make him look over here and then I'll have to let Vecna eat me because there's no way I'll survive the humiliation if he hears us, Robin!"

She glares at him. "Don't even joke about that, Dingus. You're making it out alive or I'll kill you myself."

He knows he's smiling adoringly at her, and if Henderson is looking he's never, ever beating those "in love with Robin" allegations, but whatever. "Noted, Buckley."

"So, what, you think he might be...like us? 'Cause of the bandana?"

"I mean, maybe, yeah? I might be crazy, but I also feel like he was definitely flirting with me earlier. Like in the Upside Down, and also at the trailer, you know?"

"Now that I think about it, that "Big Boy" thing was super weird. I figured it was just Eddie being Eddie, they call him The Freak for a reason, right? But I guess that could have been called flirting."

"Right? That's what I thought! And when we were down there, he was like, all up in my space, and he gave me his vest, and he seemed annoyed when I talked to Nance, even though he was trying to push me back to her. Which was insane, I didn't tell you this part Robs, oh my god. I was fully staring at his lips, just laser focused, like I would be on a girl I want to kiss, right? And he won't stop telling me how Nancy is definitely still in love with me and I should get her back! What the hell! Who does that? So I don't know," he sighs, feeling a little lost. "Maybe he isn't into me after all. But I have to at least check, right?"

"I mean, I don't think I'm the right person to ask about that, bubba, but if it goes sideways, I'll burn his house down if you want." She wiggles a molotov cocktail at him, grinning.

"Jesus, Bobbin, alright. Let's, uh. Let's call that Plan B, yeah?"

"Roger that, captain!" She gives him a stupid little salute, and for a moment he's back at Scoops, before everything went shit-shaped, but she's still his Robin, and they're safe and alive and nothing hurts.

And then he blinks again and he's sitting on an overturned bucket in front of a stolen RV, making molotov cocktails with his soulmate, watching his baby brother and the guy he might maybe sort of have a crush on tussle in the grass, hoping against hope they all live to see morning.

He picks up another bottle.

part 3

[deafeningfanlight23]

Okay, I think I will get a bit of hate comments for this TSAMS confession… BUT(T) IDC! I’m gonna say it anyway CUZ FREEDOM! >:D

So, over the past few weeks or so, I was often scrolling through Tumblr BECAUSE OF MY GODDAMN WRITER'S BLOCK [I wanna die :'D SO MANY IDEAS BUT MY BRAIN FLIPPED ME OFF AND SAID "I'm gonna make your life a living hell and you can't DO NOTHING ABOUT IT >:D"].

And with scrolling through Tumblr , YOU STUMBLE UPON ENDLESS AMOUNT OF DRAMA AND HATE! :’D And currently, I often read that apparently, a group of SolarMoon shippers, I think, sent people, who DON'T ship it and are most of the time MINORS, gore pictures through links or something??? IDK IT'S MORE CONFUSING AND MESSIER THAN FNAF LORE QWQ I think that's where the hatred towards SolarMoon shippers comes from: First, from the "the ChOsEn SolarMOon ShiPperS group" [Just a made-up name lol XD] and secondly, because of this debate wherever it's incest or not. But hey, that's just a theory, A TSAMS THEORY! :D

And to finally add my silly opinion to it because of this hate I REALLY MUCH SAW: This is JUST a toxic minority of the SolarMoon shippers! Yeah, maybe some will now type out "No WaY >:O" BUT YES, THIS ISN’T IMPOSSIBLE, I KNOW – SHOCKING REVELATION THAT WILL CHANGE HUMANITY FOREVER! >:D AND I HAVE A REASONING! BASED ON FACTS! The toxic minority is ALWAYS the loudest, but that doesn't mean that you, JUST SOME OF YOU DON'T TWIST MY WORDS, have to come to the conclusion that all are like that! It's like, idk, saying that all pizzas are bad because of one baker who put snake poison instead of tomato sauce on it QWQ Okay, that was a bad metaphor, but YOU GET MY THOUGHT-PROCESS XD

But report and block them if you’ve got such links or photos from those SolarMoon shippers though! What they do is inexcusable, stupid and just such a waste of time! And it’s SOOO immature, and that says a thirteen-year-old who was the mentality of a ten-year old! XD

And they’re also hated by the SolarMoon community and this group is barely part of this community and barely ever was, so don’t put the blame on them! You can’t just use them as scapegoats! They’ve got nothing to do with this stupid group! And this group seems like being barely SolarMoon shipper anymore – They’re just sending aimless gore pictures and hate towards people who just want to have peace!

So, with that, let people ship whatever they want AND YES IT INCLUDES SOLARMOON AS WELL IDC WHATCHA ALL THINK FROM ME NOW, IT CAN’T HURT YOU AND IT’S NOT REAL! QWQ And this group of SolarMoon shippers is JUST A MINORITY WHO SHOULD BE BANNED FROM THIS PLATTFORM BECAUSE OF THEIR STUPID ACTIONS!

So, if I got something wrong, please inform or correct me POLITELY! We all are just some TSAMS fans who wanna have silly and harmless fun! :3

SQUISHY HAS SPOKEN!!

Thanks for listening to my silly lil' opinion, AND TUNG!

qëndroni të sigurt! <3

[yuri-is-online]

Cat Got Your Tongue? (MMO AU: Leona Kingscholar x Reader)

Master Post for AU: (x) please read for overview and links to other parts.

a/n: Sure Leona says he doesn't like video games but this is my blog and I choose the au. I ended up having to re-write this because the original premise wasn't working but this fits Leona's vibe a bit better. Side note, but I am thinking I'll probably write a sort of part 2 for each of these once I am finished with each of the main "routes" since there was some stuff I wanted to include in this fic but cut because it didn't flow.

notes: They/Them pronouns used for Yuu, loosely inspired by Love is Hard for Otaku and crappy otome games, Leona is a junior and Yuu is a freshman in American college years, some mild Ruggie slander? (he's hustlin and bustlin) Not a lot of gaming in this one sorry.

Sometimes Leona really hates having a functioning brain.  Maybe if he had been born comatose his family would have taken time to understand him.  Hell maybe he would have understood them.  And maybe, maybe if he’d been a bit more stupid, a bit more happy, a bit more inspiring and a bit less morose, someone would have looked his way.

Someone.  His bright green eyes settle on a desk strategically chosen in the furthest shadows of the classroom where someone sits.  They’re tired, fighting against the eight am death sentence of a class to stay awake and take notes.  Nose always at the grindstone with so little in the way of reward, just like always.  Sometimes he wonders if they’ve ever noticed his gaze, it’s been on them for a long time creating a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach he’d gladly brush off as disgust to Ruggie when pushed.  Not that Ruggie ever pushed hard over something he wasn’t getting paid for and he had enough sense not to laugh at Leona to his face.  They both knew it was worry.  It was written all over his face and twitching through his tail, they look up to meet his heavy gaze and twitch.  A smile works its way to his face involuntarily as he closes his eyes.  

He is getting tired of waiting.

~~~

[FC] <Tempura Kun> I STG IM GONNA KERMIT A FELONY

[FC] <Granny Smith> fr?

[FC] <Granny Smith> where we pullin up?

[FC] <Tempura Kun> whatever hole my Algebra TA crawled out of this morning

[FC] <Granny Smith> we pullin out (´×ω×`)

[FC] <Tempura Kun> （πーπ）

[FC] <Tempura Kun> real brave

[FC] <Tempura Kun> ur such a big man 

[FC] <Granny Smith> HEY

[FC] <Granny Smith> I thirst for the glory of combat not suicide 

[FC] <Gloomy Samurai> whisper or get in a linkshell if you’re just going to bitch and braid each other’s hair

You smother your screams with a pillow as your discord lights up with a call from Epel, which you answer quickly enough it barely gets a chance to ring.

“Just not yer day, huh?”  Epel sighs sympathetically, but you know he’s making that stupid smug face of his.  “Whatcha do this time?”  

“I accidentally gave Dr. Crewel some paperwork dad had me working on and when I tried to explain that to Leona, he laughed at me before I got it all out.”  Epel whistles.

“Did you get the papers back?”

“Yeah.”  You glare at your monitor as you settle into your desk chair.  “Would have been nice to keep my dignity though.”  Epel has enough sense to not to tease you more, just inviting you to a party and shooting a message to the guild to see if anyone is up for running a few dungeons while you stew in your frustrations, squishing your pillow and try to avoid reflecting on your day.  Realistically speaking it wasn’t that bad.  You’ve been pretty lucky in life compared to some people, as your adoptive father is so keen to remind you, he is very generous.  He’s paying for you to go to a good school (that he works for so he’s actually just paying for books), he let you keep Grim when pretty much every other foster family you were placed with tried to get rid of him, and you have a pretty solid group of friends left over from highschool.  But still, you like to think you have a right to complain about things, what sort of father makes his kid go through zoning laws under the guise  of “father child bonding time”?  And what sort of teacher’s assistant says that’s not his problem and snarks about taking off points of your actual homework?

Leona Kingscholar apparently, it’s his idea of a joke.  By the day after tomorrow he’ll be back to his lazy self, slapping a half assed grade on your homework with a bunch of snarky commentary that’s surprisingly helpful when you go to amend your notes.  Assuming he doesn’t hijack your table in the library to take a nap first.  He’s a pain in your ass, and the worst part is you really don’t know why.  Leona’s a junior, you think anyway, and outside of his job as a teacher’s assistant you don’t have any shared classes.  Epel plays on the Spelldrive team, talks him up pretty much every chance he gets, so you guess he’s pretty good at that if nothing else.  Maybe he’s mad at you on Epel’s behalf?  He invites you to their games sometimes, but you never go because you’re too afraid of the crowds.  The thought makes you huff in frustration as Rex and Snake join your party and begin bickering about what to que for; that’s between you and Epel, what’s his captain got to say about any of that?  What does he want to do, show off?

[FC] <Snake Whisper> Tempura you still good to heal?  Gran said you were stressed.

[FC] <Tempura Kun> I’ll stress more if I make you heal lol

[FC] <Tempura Kun> Thanks for asking <3

[FC] <Snake Whisper> σ(^○^)

[FC] <Snake Whisper> You’re good

You stretch and do your best to pop your neck.

Vivat Rex >> You shouldn’t stress about making him heal if you’re tired.  It’s ok to take a break.

Tempura Kun >> lol I like heals I’ll be good promise

Tempura Kun >> ty for worrying tho &lt;3 <3

Vivat Rex >> <3 ofc can’t have our only competent heals falling over dead

Tempura Kun >> HA i’m telling Nautilus u said that

Vivat Rex >> (^_~)  punk ass bitch deserves it

The instance cuts off your reply and you settle into your chair determined to enjoy the hour and a half you set aside for yourself today before you have to go back to being an overworked unpaid student.  Before you have to go back to trying to convince your friend Ruggie that you have a friend named Rex who is real and not a figment of your imagination that lives in your computer caused by dehydra- wait.  Your eye twitches settling on the date and time mocking you from the lower right of your second monitor.

“Epel.”

“Hm?”

“I need you to go wall to wall or I’m gonna be late for work.”

~~~

“Finally.”  Ruggie gives an exaggerated stretch as he yawns.  You sigh to yourself in relief that he isn’t too upset that you’re a few minutes late, you know Ruggie’s a busy guy from the few closing shifts you’ve worked together.  He’s one of the few people you feel actually respects your situation, if the side hustles he kicks your way are anything to go by anyway.  You’d hate for him to think you’re ungrateful for his help.   “I’m practically dead on my feet here, took you long enou-”  You pause in tying your apron, unsure of why he’s staring into you so disapprovingly you almost swear he’s been replaced by Leona.  Almost.  His signature laugh is too unique.

“Stuff it.”  You scowl and his laughter gets louder and it’s a wonder his tail doesn’t knock any of the cigarettes off the back counter shelves.

“Oh you look disgusting.”  He fishes his phone out of his back pocket as he clocks out, checking it just out of your view as you try to salvage your pride and settle into your seat.

“You don’t look so hot yourself either.”

“Yeah at least I don’t look like a truck hit me and backed up to make sure it finished the job.”  He looks somewhat serious for a brief second.  “When was the last time you actually ate food?”

“Before I came here?”

“Instant noodles don't count.”  Your silence is speaking volumes you don’t have the strength to combat and Ruggie sighs.

“I know I’m one to talk, but you should really get some rest.”  His lips quirk into a grin for half a second, quick enough to have missed if you had blinked as if he remembered something amusing.  “Unless you’re angling for someone to force you.”

“Like a health professional?  You know the old crow will just look for a second opinion.”  Ruggie lightly flicks your shoulder while he continues to focus on his phone on the way out the door.

“You mean thirty-second.”  He doesn’t even look up to say goodbye.  “Well I’m out!  Try not to scare off the customers.”  If you had to regularly interact with customers you would not have taken this shift.  Epel had given you a hard time about that, something about personal safety being more important than sanity.

[FC] <Granny Smith> not what I said

[FC] <Granny Smith> u should at least have someone visit when ur alone on shift

And you did sometimes.  Ace likes to drop by after practice, and Epel hadn’t said that with the intention of not showing up himself.  Jack and Deuce probably would have visited even if you were on a daylight shift, not that Jack would ever admit to checking up on you outloud.  But it was still very much only a sometimes thing, not that they didn’t care or worry they just had lives.  Most of your time at the convenience store was spent alone scrolling through magicam on your phone, only looking up to ring up a hoard of energy drinks for whoever was just as tired as you were.  Though maybe not today, Rex had tried to convince you to just call out.  He always does, complaining about how he’d have to run things with Nautilus now, but he might have had a point today.  The chair you and Ruggie snuck behind the counter is not remotely comfortable but you swear it feels like a cloud.  You tried to focus on your magicam feed, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care about the fan art Gloomurai posted of the First Fantasia Knight Commander.  If anything it just made you sleepier, like he was personally inviting you to take a nap on his lap or something.  Your eyes shut and your phone drops out of your hand.  When you finally wake up you swear it has only been a minute at most but the smug look of your customer suggests otherwise.

“Morning sunshine.”  Leona looks painfully out of place in this shitty college convenience store.  The dingey, twitching light barely bounces off his hair and you swear his clothes have to cost more than all the electronic equipment in the place combined, maybe even more than your computer back home.  An odd thought to have, he’s literally just wearing the same kind of athleisure wear you had been wearing almost twenty minutes ago while gaming, but you recognize the branding on that shirt from a rant Ruggie went on a month ago.  Something about wondering why anyone would pay that much money to leave the house looking stupid in cheetah print.  “Are you even listening to me?”  Leona drawls, lazy and the slightest bit disappointed, he has been talking to you since you woke up you belatedly realize and completely fail to hide the fact.  Leona sighs, tail thrashing in annoyance as he moves to join you behind the counter.  “Whatever, just move over.”  You almost fall off your chair.

“What?  No no no this is an employee only zone you cannot take a nap back here.”  You have no idea how Leona is expecting to fall asleep, even if you’ve tripped over him on the campus lawn before you’re sure the green has to be more comfortable than this questionably sourced tile.  And yet he seems happy enough, bracing his back against the concrete wall as you turn your confusion back to the counter and notice a thermos that you don’t recognize next to you.

“That’s yours.”  Your head whips back around but the fucker’s eyes are closed and he looks so incredibly unbothered your loud retort dies in your throat.  He doesn’t bother to meet your piercing gaze no matter how long you stare at him, you get more of a response from the thermos when you accidentally elbow it trying to get more comfortable at the counter.  It’s a nice thermos, one of those expensive insulated things that cost a ridiculous amount of money, in a bright yellow that nicely compliments the royal looking lion sticker stuck to it.  There are a few other stickers, the NRC logo, a Spelldrive team logo, and a reaper job icon.  The last sticker makes you smile, you’re pretty sure you linked a similar looking sticker to Rex in the guild discord a month ago, the design included a silhouette of the cowboy hat from the class armor set behind the icon just like this sticker.  Exactly like this sticker, you realize as your tired eyes settle on the artist’s signature.  The shop bell rings you to attention, a significantly less interesting customer enters the store and you try to shove your rising panic to the back of your mind and try to focus on doing your job.

Leona’s annoyed sigh goes completely unnoticed.

~~~

“You aren’t going to tell Crowley I slept through most of my shift right?”  You have to be pushing things, Leona hates repeating himself and this is the third time you’ve asked him.  Leona had insisted on staying with you until the end of your shift, you had insisted he had better ways to spend his night but admitted, when he had explicitly asked, that no you weren’t uncomfortable with his presence just didn’t want to be an inconvenience.  That made him laugh, not unlike the little exchange you’d had this morning, but this time he had actually entertained your attempts at talking to him.  Until the time came to leave and he offered to walk you home.  Leona seeing you asleep at your shitty job was bad enough, the thought of that ramshackle house made your stomach tie up in all sorts of knots.  “I know you probably don’t see it as a big deal-”

“Because it’s not.”  He snorts.  “Really who do you think you’re trying to impress?”  You wince, Leona swings the thermos with that taunting sticker just out of view, as you huddle into yourself and he sighs stopping under a street light and turns you to face him.  “No seriously, just who are you trying to impress?  You’re always working to the point you’ve practically stopped being yourself.  It’s annoying.”  

“Well what’s it to you?”  You huff and Leona doesn’t bother to immediately answer.  Your eyes drift back to the sticker on his thermos.  

“Maybe I like playing games with you.”  His voice and face are uncharacteristically soft, but still unnervingly intense.  He doesn’t bother specifying what he means, almost like he’s daring you to ask first so he can make fun of you for thinking Rex was anyone other than him this whole time.  “Maybe I like Yuu enough that I want to spend just a little more time with them and not this weird zombie who doesn’t know the way back to their own house.”  

“Oh please-” you roll your eyes and turn back to the road only for your retort to die in your throat.  You are not, in fact, headed towards the haunted mansion.  This road, this stupid street light, is next to a diner you know the college sports teams like to go to after games.  Leona, gently, tugs you by the sleeve of your jacket towards the door.  “Hey, I can’t afford-”

“Oh don’t misunderstand we ain’t here for you, I was just feeling a bit hungry.”  The smug bastard doesn’t even pretend to hear your protests as he pushes his way into the diner and doesn’t wait to be seated.  He just drags you towards the back of the diner shooting you a truly catlike smirk over his shoulder.  “Of course if I have something left over, we can share.  Maybe if you play nice you can get your own straw.”  He spins you into the booth across from him, and despite what he literally just said shoves the plastic menu back into your hands when you try to hand it back to the clearly amused waitress.  

“How long have you known I was...”  You feel stupid even trying to broach the topic, there’s a pretty clear line you don’t cross when making online friends.  It’s even in the guild rules, you’re pretty sure “don’t ask for anyone’s IRL info” is probably Gloomurai’s life motto.  But Leona doesn’t seem to care, which you suppose is in line with what you know about Rex.  His laid back attitude was what had made him the most approachable out of all your guildmates, not that you would ever have thought to apply such a description to Leona.  If anything he seems confused why you’re so shy about talking, like he’s known who you are the whole time and that’s why he spent so much time pinging you in game or why he decided to spend his night keeping you company. 

“Maybe I like playing games with you.”  Something starts curling up in your stomach at the thought that he just might have, if Leona notices you loosening your jacket to release some steam he pretends not to notice.

“Epel mentioned he was gonna try to get you into the guild.”  Well that’s news to you, looks like someone is going to get yelled at later tonight.  “I didn’t expect you to be so excited about healing, but I ain’t complaining, it was cute and now I don’t have to take Naut’s shit outside of raids.”   Cute.  You intake a sharp breath and Leona definitely notices your nerves, clearly planning to press the point unless you can cut him off from the chase.

“W-what exactly do you have against Nautilus anyway?”  With the way Leona’s face wrinkles you idly wonder if he knows who Nautilus actually is too, or if he’s just displeased that the focus is no longer on him.  “He’s not bad at his role.”  

“Naut pays too much attention to pointless shit.  Sure he’s good but it’s not like he does world firsts or anything.”  Neither does Rex but that does seem to be besides the point when he’s paying for your dinner, especially now that it’s in front of you.  Diner food might not be the healthiest but Ruggie really was right about instant noodle not counting as a meal.  “You know he and Snake used to bitch at each other while they were supposed to be doing callouts?  Had whole ass arguments over cooking instead of calling out shackle timing.  Gloom and Musclered never stopped ‘em either since it was ‘funny.’”  They still do, just in discord and not while you run things.  It’s hard to picture someone as professional as Nautilus doing something like that, but then again you know that Rex has known him longer.  “So just in case you thought I was just being nice earlier, you are the better heals.  If I could get the cards I want with just you, Epel, and Ruggie I would.”  It’s disturbing how clear the picture is in your mind: your lala, Epel’s roe, and Leona’s cowboy coded catman being joined by some hyper pink catgirl in the mini game bunny suit that you can easily see Ruggie using to scam some tech worker out of his monthly salary in Pirate’s Port wiping to an EX rank trial because Leona decided his logs weren’t orange enough.  It sounds like a good time, and you can’t keep yourself from blurting out:

“We should try to run something sometime anyway, it’d be fun.”  And before you can retreat back into your shell,  Leona smiles, smiles and burns away any sort of shyness you wanted to have over talking video games with someone as “normal” as him.

“If you can think of something just text me.”  You fish out your phone and can’t even bring yourself to cringe at the time with just how happy that suggestion makes you feel.

And Ace said playing MMOs would get you zero bitches.

~~~

This was a mistake.  It was hard to keep that thought from drumming away at your nerves the longer you stood in the station square; Leona had been the one to invite you out, not the other way around, so if he really ended up not liking this then that was his fault not yours.  You even took into account that Leona was a lazy bitch and suggested you meet up later in the day instead, but then again…  You try to resist drowning in a wave of self flagellation over the clothes you picked out as you somehow manage to sink further into the park bench you have decided to camp out on.  For someone who had been so insistent they were not going out on a date when their generous adoptive father asked where they were going during such prime father child bonding hours, you felt insanely self conscious.  That was normal right, people who actually went out with their friends to do stuff other than pal around the local big box store put thought into their appearance.  Not that there was anything wrong with that.  If this goes south you know you already confirmed you can have Jack over here in two shakes of his tail and that’s probably exactly what you would end up doing.  But when Mannon posted in the guild discord about a First Fantasia themed pop up cafe that was going to be A) running for a limited time within walking distance from your house and B) giving out a code for an in game pet-

Well admittedly your first thought had been to invite Epel, but Leona had texted you almost immediately after Mannon dropped the link.

[irl catboy] ruggie said you aren’t working this saturday

[irl catboy] come with me to the stupid cafe i never know what to order at those places

With such a gentlemanly request how could you possibly refuse?  And now here you were fifteen minutes early trying to keep yourself from going stir crazy, or from jumping out of your skin when an increasingly familiar deep voice whispers a sleepy “hey” into your ear.  

“Seven’s Leona!”  You’re half ready to hit him with your backpack but your indignation and fright are almost entirely wiped away by the sheer figure Leona cuts against the setting autumn sun.  Someone, Ruggie you decide, because there’s no way Leona decided to dress up to come see you himself, forced your upperclassman into a knit  black turtleneck with golden claw-like trim on the neck and rolled up cuffs.  He’s kept his usual tan slacks, but the ugly woven sandals have been swapped out for a more weather appropriate pair of ugly slip ons with similar gold claws to the turtleneck.  His hair’s still tied up like he’s been at spelldrive practice, not that you fully know what he looks like outside of Epel’s descriptions and your own imagination. 

“What, did I scare you?” you drawls, clearly eating up the attention you’re lavishing on his appearance.  Before you can collect yourself enough to stand up he leans down to cow you back into the bench.  “Maybe I should scare you some more?  The mousey look really suits you.”

“Oh shut up!”  You huff and stand, trying your best to avoid cracking your head off of Leona’s stupidly broad frame as you both go to head towards the cafe.  “Did you look up the menu online or are you just planning on winging it?”

“You really like to put effort into things don’t you?”  Leona doesn’t look or sound too upset but there’s a strange wistfulness to his look you do not really like, but it’s gone before you can pick at it too much.  “Nah I figured I’d just let you pick.”

“Are you sure?”  You try your best not to sound excited, you swear the only thing you admire about Ruggie is his work ethic, not his grift.  “I could just take advantage of you and force you to get a bunch of stuff only I’d like.”  As if he’s reading your mind, Leona's green eyes twinkle with mischief you know will bite you in the ass later.

“Oh no you would never do that.  I know for a fact that you are just too nice for that.”  The “unlike someone else" goes unsaid as Leona decides to really double down on the gentleman act when you reach the cafe, holding the door and not even pretending to look at the menu until you prompt him.

“Do you want to get the reaper soda?”  Leona shrugs. 

“Does it sound like it will taste good to you?”  It does but that’s sort of besides the point, you’re much more interested in the white mage one.

“I just thought you might want the coaster.”  You murmur and he smiles.

“I’d lose something like that real fast, you can just keep it.”  Your eyes have to pop halfway out of your head with how hard he laughs, other patrons shoot a confused look at your table as you try to resist the urge to self combust.  “Let me guess, they’re worth somethin right?  In that case all the more reason for you to keep em.”  The look in his eyes is practically daring you to ask if he’s really sure, but knowing Leona he wants an excuse to tease so for now you swallow your insecurities and point your awkward smile up at the server who comes to take your order.  

“Um can we get one reaper soda, one white mage soda…” your voice trails off and Leona pipes up with the name of a burger you don’t remember reading out to him but they apparently serve anyway with how quickly she notes it down.

“And is the check separate or together?”  She sweetly asks and before you can so much as breathe Leona cuts you off.

“Bill goes to me.”  You glare at him, well try to really Leona’s a hard person to stare down.  “Didn’t I say you could get whatever?”  Not literally, it was more implied along with the trouble that you weren’t expecting to catch up to you this quickly.  His smile widens, not quite wolfishly, more like a lion staring down a particularly foolish gazelle that’s stumbled weak kneed into his territory.  “Go on, tell the nice lady what else you want, she won’t bite you, that's my job.”  Flames aren’t enough anymore.  You need to turn into a particularly fine paste or particle dust to relive how fast your heart is beating.  Luckily for you the server seems amused, letting out a good natured laugh as she shoots you a wink.

“You heard your man, what can we get for you?”  You take back every judgment you have ever passed Ruggie’s way.  With just how proud Leona seems like now he really is asking for it.

 ~~~

“You don’t really do things like this much do ya?”  Leona kept his teasing to a minimum after the bite comment thank god and kept his word about letting you keep the coasters.  Pretty much everything at the cafe seemed to have some sort of First Fantasia themed knick knack you were allowed if not encouraged to take back with you.  Leona had offered to walk you home once you both saw how dark it was, promising that would be your only stop this time much to your relief.  You weren’t sure how much more of his teasing you could take.

“I mean I’ve got Epel, but Ace, Deuce, and Jack don’t really like mmos.”  You aren’t sure if it has ever actually been established if you are friends with Sebek, but unless someone teaches Malleus how to use a mouse you doubt he’s going to be logging into anything other than a literal tree anytime soon.  “Sometimes Epel will send me links to merch he thinks I’d like, but he’s more into the…”  You pause to try and find the words for what it is you want to say, knowing your friend will kill you if you make him look lame.  “Sense of pride and accomplishment you get from beating high end content.”

“That sounds like him.”  Leona says proudly.  “He’s like that with anything mildly competitive.  One of his better qualities, just don’t go telling him I said that.  Wouldn’t want it goin to his head.”  There’s no way you’ll be able to keep his mild praise a secret from Epel forever, but what Leona doesn’t know won’t hurt him too much.  “But that’s not really what I was asking.”  Your pace slows as Leona lapses back into silence and you wrack your brain for what he actually could have meant.  “Do you like going out to cafe’s?”

“I… don’t really know.”  You liked tonight.  Talking to Leona, when he was awake enough to participate, was always fun.  Even when you were trading jabs back and forth in class.  “I used to dream about finally finding someone who I could do stuff like this with, but I kind of gave up after my last date said-”  you freeze in your train of thought and walk.  This had not been a date in any way shape or form.  Sure, Leona played a video game with you, and sure he’s been going out of his way to talk to you in real life more regularly since he came to visit your work.  But it’s not like he did that for any reason other than-  “said it was just too weird.  Said I was just too weird and I guess I just sort of got tired of not being able to talk about things that interested me so I gave up trying.”

“Then why not just date me?”  Leona’s eyes are a really strange shade of green now that you’re staring straight into them.  It’s like he’s got two neon lights shining a spotlight directly on you every time he speaks, judging and picking apart whoever he is looking at.  And right now he is looking pointedly at you, making it clear this isn’t a conversation he is going to let you run from.  “I told you before, didn't I?  I like playing games with you.  I want to spend time with you; I want to hear about your day every day, from what annoyed you to funny things you and your friends did.  I want to see you happy and know I made that happen, because you make my life a happier one just by being in it.  The only thing I have ever not liked about you is that you work too hard, and that’s not unfixable.  You just need to let me be a bad influence on you.”  It’s a confession you never really expected to receive, but somehow so very much him.  It’s insulting, honest, and just a touch demanding but it reaches into that small shrunken part of your heart that you’ve been burying most of your feelings in for who knows how long now and fills it with warmth.

“Would you-”  It feels like a silly question but with how intently Leona is hanging on your every word you feel a rush of power going straight to your head.  “If we were going out would you stop wiping things on purpose?”  He blinks, if he’s surprised by the request or shocked he got this far you don’t quite know, but he quickly recovers, moving into your space to offer his hand.

“If you ask nicely.”  You gladly take the offered arm and influence, squeezing his much larger hand with a soft smile.

“Then it’s a dea-”  Leona cuts you off with a kiss, swallowing your mouselike squeak along with most of your air with a speed you didn’t know he possessed.  

“Don’t use that punks line.”  He practically growls and you can’t hold in your happy laughter any longer.  It could just be the streetlights, but you don’t think Leona looks all that mad.  Quite the opposite really, not that you expect him to voice it out loud.  Instead he leans in for another kiss in a gruff effort to show just how much he means what he has been trying to say all along.

I’m happiest when I am doing things with you.

*if you are curious about Leona's outfit, I based it off of Lion King clothing items in Disney Dreamlight Valley (black and gold claw shoes, tan sunny slacks, and the gray claw top for those looking for specifics)

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippet Thursday part 2: Blackmail Au

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In which Jak has to learn how to properly take care of curly hair

It turned out that the king of the Wastelanders was a little less intimidating when he was arguing with Sig. For all that he retained his commanding presence, with or without his armor, the low stakes of the disagreement seemed to soften him into something more human.

"I'm just going right back to the city again tomorrow!" Sig complained, "I'll do Wash Day when I get back."

"The rot you will," Damas retorted, pointing a comb menacingly at him, "We both know you'd rather shave your head than bother with Wash Day. Just get it over with and you won't have to deal with it for another two weeks."

"Come on, man!"

"You're setting a bad example for Jak," Damas said smugly.

Sig's nostrils flared. "Ohhh you rotsucker. That's not fair."

"I don't have to play fair on Wash Day."

Jak and Daxter watched the back and forth with growing amusement, especially when the indomitable Sig capitulated with some very creative expletives. Why was he making such a big deal out of washing his hair? Daxter washed twice a week if they could get the soap for it. Jak...didn't wash as much, but he tried to at least rinse off the sweat.

"It's just washing hair, how long could it take?" he snorted as Sig dragged out a low stool in front of the sink in the corner.

"An hour at least," Sig grumbled.

"An hour? For hair?" Jak sputtered, "Why would you spend that much time on it?!"

Sig looked at him. Damas looked at him. After a moment, Damas sighed.

"Well, that tracks."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

Damas reached up and fiddled with the crown piercings, sliding them out of tiny metal ports in his skull with a soft click one by one. He set them on the table and distractedly waved Jak over.

"Hair like ours requires more care than your friend there," he explained. "I somewhat doubt you like running around with your curls all knotted and broken together like that. Hasn't anyone ever showed you how to care for them?"

Daxter scoffed. "Self-care was never high on Samos's priority list of subjects to teach us."

Curious but cautious, Jak edged closer to the table to look at the jars Damas had set out. Oils, creams, some kind of soap. Were Damas and Sig really going to use all of these? He picked one up and examined it closely, smelling coconut.

"That's the last step," Sig said, plucking the jar from his hands unexpectedly.

Jak blinked. Without his hood and armor, Sig looked...weird. His hair was close-cropped, but not shaved; olive green coils somewhat smashed into the shape of his helmet. Daxter snickered from behind him.

"Hat hair!" he whispered.

Sig was not amused. He yanked open the first jar of oil and applied it liberally to his hair. "Just do as I do, cherry. No commentators from the peanut gallery."

Damas followed suit with an impish smile altogether out of place on his stoic face. "This is why I don't do helmets."

"Because your head is too fat for them?"

Damas paused in rubbing the oil into his locs to narrow his eyes at Sig. "I know how to override your door lock, you know."

"Oooh I'm so scared. Whatcha gonna do? Shampoo me to death?" Sig taunted.

"I could do that. Or I could add something to your ammunition pouch."

"Add what?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Add what, Daym?"

"You'll find out."

Jak raised an eyebrow at the two grown men behaving like, well, like him and Daxter. They seemed distracted, and he was curious, so after a moment he gave in and poured a handful of oil into his own hair. Presumably they'd wash it out next.

He was wrong.

Thirty minutes he had to sit with the oil soaking into his hair, bored out of his skull. No wonder Sig hated doing this! He couldn't even leave the room, because he didn't know where to find another sink! Equally bored, Daxter started rifling through Jak's jacket pockets until he came up with the bag of trail rations.

"Wanna play Kill-Grid?" he asked, holding up the bag, "Nuts versus beans?"

"We don't have a grid," Jak pointed out.

Sig leaned forward. "Kill-Grid? What's that?"

Jak shrugged. "It's a game we played a lot back in Sandover. You make a grid of sixteen squares. Twelve pieces on each side, the middle row stays empty."

Daxter opened the bag to see if there were enough nuts and beans to even play as he added, "It's...kinda like checkers. Except the board shrinks if a whole row gets cleared out."

"Yeah! If every piece in one row gets captured, you erase that row and make the grid even smaller. Whoever has the most pieces left when there aren't any more open spaces is the winner."

Just speaking about the game seemed to lift a weight from the boy. Damas saw life returning to his eyes, and he actually sounded like a fifteen year old ought to for a moment. Sorrow clawed at his guts like an animal trapped inside. This was his son, his firstborn, and a complete stranger. A young boy who seemed to only barely remember that he was meant to have a childhood. Who didn't even know basic self-care.

"Time's up," he said, gently interrupting the explanation, "Time to shampoo."

"Finally!" Sig huffed.

The chamber fell silent save for the sounds of water splashing and soap squishing into curls. Jak watched Sig with wide eyes, earnestly mimicking every step as best he could. Cross-legged on the rug, barefoot and barefaced, he looked...he looked like he belonged there. Like he always should have. Damas watched his lost-and-found child's face morph into surprise as he discovered how easily his fingers slipped through the tangles now. It wasn’t so very different from teaching Mar to wash his own hair. Just how neglected had Jak been? Damas couldn’t help wondering if Jak and Mar were on equal footing in their knowledge of how growing up was meant to be. It wasn't right for a boy to be so unused to kindness. It wasn't natural.

"Y'know," Daxter remarked, "I really didn't think your hair was that long?"

Jak shrugged helplessly and fumbled with slippery, wet hair, trying to put yet another round of oil into it. Before, it had brushed against his shoulder blades, bulked out with matts and snarls. Now it hung nearly to his waist, and he was getting tired of it sticking to his fingers.

"Ugh," he groaned after having to return to the oil jar yet again. "Sig, can I borrow your knife? I'm not doin' this."

Damas shot Sig a dirty look as the taller man snickered.

"What, ah, whatcha gonna do with it, cherry?"

Jak raised a brow. "Cut it??"

With some effort, he gathered up the thick hair into one fist and gestured to about three inches. "Look, that's gonna get tangled in my holster. I don't wanna deal with that."

"We have scissors, you know," Damas pointed out.

"Knife's faster."

Damas paused and blinked. Somehow, Jak had turned out more like Sig than Mar had, and Mar was the one who actually shared blood with him! As grateful as he was -- overwhelmingly, shatteringly relieved and grateful -- that of all the people to have taken Baby Heart under his wing, it was Sig, he could have done without Sig’s impatience for hair care being passed along.

Even so, there was no bite in his voice when he muttered to Sig, "He gets this from you, doesn't he?"

"I apologize for nothing," Sig joked.

He pulled his knife out and handed it over to Jak.

"Let Daxter do it, kiddo. He can see the parts you can't."

"Fair enough," Jak agreed easily.

"If I get buried in this stuff, I demand financial compensation," Daxter warned as he was passed the knife.

"That's going to bounce up shorter than you think, you know," Damas commented. "Especially with the extra weight taken off."

"Hey, as long as it's not in my face or wrapped around my gun, I don't give a crap," Jak answered. He leaned back on his palms to give Daxter better access to the long curls.

"What was I supposed to do after the second oil soak? Is that it?"

"You can stop there," Sig begrudgingly admitted, "But in your case it...probably would be better to do one last thing of cream, since you don't wear a helmet like me. It'll protect your hair later."

Jak made a face, and Sig didn't blame him. As a boy, Sig had never been the most patient individual. He'd learned plenty of patience over the years, but when he was off-duty? He couldn't help some of the old instincts to just get it done and over with.

It was a good thing his mama couldn't see him right now. She'd box his ears and hold his head in the sink to finish the Wash Day herself. Selda had never let him get away with neglecting himself. Sig supposed he would have to start channeling his mother to ensure that Jak didn't continue to neglect himself.

Daxter set down the knife and examined his handiwork critically.

"Mm...well, it ain't stylish, but you don't look like you let a blindfolded batfinch style your hair, at least."

Damas made a little harrumph in the corner as he wrapped up his own application of a heated oil.

"Oh. Right. I need to change the batfinches' water tonight."

"Come again?" Daxter asked.

Sig picked up a wide-toothed comb and shrugged. "Damas keeps an aviary. He's got- what are you up to now, seven different species in there?"

"Ten, actually," Damas corrected. "The tavus eggs finally hatched. I had to get a pair of rock hens in order to hatch them, though."

"Rock hens? From the mountains?" Daxter asked, wrinkling his nose, "What's a rock hen got to do with peafowl?"

Damas’s eyes lit up with the prospect of actually talking about his birds.

"Rock hens will brood over anything even vaguely egg shaped," he said.

With a click he began setting his crown piercings back into their ports, gesturing now and then as he did.

"The incubators were hatching the peafowl eggs, but without other galliformes, the tavus chicks weren't surviving."

"You got them foster-moms," Daxter guessed, "Right?"

"I did!" Damas smiled. "They're doing quite well, so far."

Daxter stretched up over Jak's shoulder with a serious look. "We're gonna go see those birds, right?"

"After the flut-flut thing?" Jak teased him.

"They're already hatched! I don't gotta worry about gettin' mistaken for anybody's Ma this time!" Daxter argued. "Besides, I'm only goin' for you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, mister "I'm just good with animals"!"

Jak wasn't sure yet. Going to this guy's aviary -- which he talked about with the same enthusiasm Jak used to feel about his bug collection -- felt like it would lead the man to start acting more buddy-buddy with him. Jak wasn't interested in that. He wanted his little brother back, and then maybe they could talk boundaries. But...there were baby animals. And...

He really liked baby animals.

They didn't shy away from him, even when he was in his dark form. If it weren't for animals like the city yakkows and the crocadog, Jak would probably have believed what everyone said about his dark side being some kind of mindless animal.

"Hhh. Okay. We can see the tavus chicks," he agreed, rolling his eyes.

Damas looked so pleased that whatever was left of his intimidating image dropped and shattered on the floor.

If he could find something in common with this boy -- something other than their mutual protectiveness over Mar; a boy his age had no business being made a parental figure to his sibling -- then perhaps they could start over on a better foundation than "I thought you were in danger so I had you kidnapped from Haven City". Even if that had definitely been the right call at the time.

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[fictional-love-is-my-life]

ok this is gonna sound really weird. like i mean really weird but stay with me it happened (i have an introject of optimus prime that's kinda canon divergent and this occurred in his universe and im. trying very hard to cope. bear with me)

can i get bayverse ratchet, wheelie and whirl (personality anxious and cranky) as a weird family dynamic? like specifically ratchet taking care of the two of them bc they're both considerably younger and wheelie is injured (and both terrified out of their minds)

sorry i know the request is kinda. out there. but like. relived that experience and i. guh. going to turn into a truck now

( Ok this is going to be somewhat angst, but not a lot. But it's based on AOE when the bots are being hunted)

~~~

"They're coming, I swear they're coming." Whirl was pacing, rubbing his claws together. He thought he heard something but he heard lots of things nowadays. Every movement, even if it was the wind, could potentially be the humans. Whirl could take the humans. He could defend himself, at least he used to be able to. He was never afraid of them. But now the humans had upgraded tech, specifically used to take down Cybertronians. Now they were a lot more dangerous.

"Quite now Whirl, you're not helping Wheelie. He needs to sit still while I fix him up and your anxious pacing is agitating him. Please just sit down, I assure you we are safe." Ratchet spoke softly, Whirl did not do well with raised voices. And even though he was telling them they were safe, he didn't quite believe himself. He just had to do something to keep them calm.

Ratchet continued to work on Wheelie. The small bot had gotten caught in the crossfire as they tried to escape their last run in with the humans. A single bullet to his shoulder plating. To a normal sized bot a single bullet would be nothing. But poor Wheelie was just a minicon, any damage from human weapons could be deadly. Ratchet was careful. Wheelie tried not to squirm, but it was unpleasant and he didn't like staying still. He liked running. Running far away from the humans.

"I heard some bots were going to Cuba. It's a safe spot, no hunting bots over there. Whatcha think doc?" Wheelie asked. He talked a lot when he was nervous or in pain. He talked a lot in general, but right then he needed the distraction.

"I think that sounds like a great plan Wheelie. Once I've got you patched up we can head over there. You can rest while I drive." Ratchet said, finishing Wheelie's repairs.

Whirl was back to pacing, and looking through the doors of the abandoned warehouse they had holed up in.

"If we can make it there. They'll probably get us before we reach the State's border." Whirl mumbled. But his words were heard. Wheelie fussed again.

"Whirl come here." Whirl obeyed. Ratchet looked him over, checking for wounds. A few paint scratches but nothing serious. Ratchet then placed both servos on Whirls shoulders.

"We'll make it there. I'll keep you two safe. I promise." And he planned to keep that promise. No matter what happened. No matter what he had to do. He would keep Whirl and Wheelie safe.

Whirl just nodded.

"Come on, we should go." They should get a headstart, Ratchet thought. But he wasn't going to say that aloud. He wished he could be truthful, they deserved to know their chances were low. But that was just part of Ratchet's personality. He wanted to keep them safe and happy, and if that meant lying to them about their safety then Ratchet would lie.

Ratchet picked up Wheelie and transformed around him. He waited for Whirl to transform before driving away. It was useful that Whirl could take to the skies. Whirl could warn Ratchet if the humans were ahead.

But Ratchet was going to make it to Cuba. He hoped the word was right and that it was a safe place. Over the last few months he had grown fond of the boys. Whirl and Wheelie had become his responsibility, but also his friends. He could even say he viewed them as though they were his own. He hated the situation they were in. But he would care for them as much as he could until they were truly safe.

[haisayonaraa]

A work of Art

[story below]

(with part Diamond is Unbreakable being one of my favorite parts, I decided to work on a piece for it. And I've recently been Introduced to the character of Rohan, grant it, I knew of him before, but thanks to the help of a friend, I've finally got a good understanding of what he's like as a person. grant it, I haven't seen him in the anime yet, but I hope to do him justice. so please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong with anything TwT sorry for the long note! enjoy!)

It's been awhile since Rohan had let Jotaro take care of him when he was regressed, and even longer since Jotaro had first found out Rohan even regressed. But it's been long enough that Jotaro has figured out what Rohan likes and doesn't like to do while regressed. Rohan prefers to stay home when regressed, it's not that he hates going outside, in fact, he loves being outside. Rather, he just doesn't like the people. he's not scared, or ashamed, he just doesn't like the interaction. Jotaro has found that the little is just as creative when little as he is in a more mature  mindset. After a few visits Jotaro found that bringing the small artist supplies was his best bet to win him over. 

Coloring books, finger paints, and crayons became a common item in the bag Jotaro over. On this particular day, Jotaro brought over a special activity. Jotaro knocks on the door of Rohan's house. there's some rustling from inside, "..who's there?" Jotaro smiles, see, he'd told Rohan about asking whenever someone knocked, so no strangers could bother while Rohan while he was regressed. "It's just me Rohan." Rohan cracks the door open, "and who may that be?" Jotaro chuckles, "Jotaro Kujo." Suddenly, the door swings completely open and Jotaro is met by a young boy dressed in a comfy green sweater and some fluffy yellow socks. "Hi miste' Kujo! Whatcha got in the bag?" Jotaro goes inside, "well, I thought we'd try something new today." Rohan furrows his brows, "new?" Jotaro sits down and opens the bag he brought, Rohan goes over to Jotaro and sits beside him. "Don't worry, I really think you're going to like this." Rohan sighs, "ok, if you says so."

 Jotaro pulls out some paper plates, A bag of pom poms, and a bag of googly eyes. and some  pipe cleaners. Rohan tilts his head and picks up the pack of paper plates, "what we gonna do wif these?" Jotaro lays out everything on the table, before leaving the room, not to long after he comes back with some paint, scissors and glue. "We're making butterflies." Rohan gasps before looking at the plates again, "how we gonna do that?!" Jotaro takes the plates. "well, let me show you" Jotaro takes a plate and folds it once, he then takes the scissors and cuts the plate to have a wide 'w' look. Afterwards he unfolds the plate and Rohan is in awe, "oh! it does look like butterflies!" Jotaro nods and puts the plate down on the table before setting Rohan's paints out for him. "now you get to decorate it however you want, if you need I can even get some glitter." Rohan claps his hands before getting to work painting the butterfly, "I'm gonna make it looks pretty!" Jotaro smiles, "I'm sure it's going to look amazing." 

After a bit of painting, Rohan holds his butterfly up for jotaro to see. "Hey, good job! that looks great, do you wanna watch some cartoons while it dries?" Rohan nods. thankfully the paint was quick dry, so they didn't have to wait long. "Now since it dries, we can add some pom poms to make its  body, do you want to do that?" Rohan takes the bag of pom poms, "mhm! I gad it!" Rohan opens the bag, and with a little help from Jotaro, glues the colorful pom poms to the butterfly. "awww! it looks so good miste' Kujo!" Jotaro nods, "I agree, do you think we should add some antennas and eyes?" Rohan nods. "alright then, let's get to it!" So, Rohan picks out some pipe cleaners and twists them into the pattern he likes, he then gets two googly eyes. Jotaro helps him glue them on the butterfly. "Now we let that dry for a bit, and it'll be done! what do you want to do while we wait?" Rohan thinks for awhile before walking away, it's not long before he comes back with a sketch book he's reserved for his regressed self.  "I wanna draw!"

Once the butterfly dries, Rohan insisted on making thirty more, but Jotaro didn't mind, he enjoyed watching Rohan be the creative little artist he is. In fact, it made him happy to know his craft idea was enjoyed by him. Once the day was done, all the butterflies ended up being hung in Rohan's room. And Rohan, all tuckered out from the crafting he did, was put to bed by Jotaro. Both had a wonderful day. 

(Rohan woke up to see the butterflies hung all over the walls of his room. he was both confused and astonished. needless to say they stayed on the walls)

hi hiiiiiii thanks for reading this story! I might make this into a little craft series where Jotaro and Rohan do lil crafts together :3 for anyone wondering, here's the website I got this craft from! (though I added the antenna)

(also here's a Rohan :3)

(BUT TELL ME WHY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO FIND A PICTURE I COULD WORK WITH, AGH, AND A PACI?! ugh, I think the paci pics are what take me to longest to do honestly T^T)

[lordofthenerds97]

Wasting Away: Chapter 6

Rating: M for eventual chapters, mild cursing, and nonexplicit sexual content Pairing: Eddie x Reader, Past Billy x Reader, and onesided Steve x Reader if you squint Summary: You were broken. Falling apart. Trying to put yourself back together. Whatever the hell they wanted to call it. All you knew was you were hurting. The Upside Down had been the bane of your existence for a long time. But now you had a reason to hate it. Will your hatred be enough to help take down the latest in a long line of monsters? TW FOR THIS CHAPTER: • Mild Panic Attack • Survivor's Guilt • Mentions of Therapy Masterlist

The bell dinged above you as you walked into the small mechanic’s shop. You paused for a moment, the smell of motor oil, grease, and fumes hitting your nose. 

“Hold on!”

You barely registered the voice calling out to you as you looked around. Things had changed since the last time you’d been in there. The shelves had been moved around, other racks had been added, and there were even displays set up. The small and miscellaneous parts had been organized and were hanging in their proper places with the price tags displayed neatly above them. “Damn,” you muttered. Before Mack’s wife, Helen, had retired, the place was more well kept than what Mack himself would do. But you hadn’t ever seen it like this. 

The last time you’d been in there with Billy, you had to help him dig through multiple bins to find the right wrenches and screws he needed.

Mack’s small shop had definitely gotten an upgrade. 

“Hey sweetheart,”

You looked up from the shelf at the sound of the familiar voice. “Eddie?”

He had poked his head through the door leading to the actual shop, grinning at you. “What’s up?”

“I didn’t know you worked here,” you said dumbly. You were pretty sure the expression on your face matched the tone of your voice.  

He chuckled. “What, do you think Mack managed to do all this himself?” he asked as he stepped behind the counter. His hair was tied into a messy bun at the base of his neck to keep it out of his face as he worked. He looked at the oil filter you were holding. “That all you need, doll?”

You smiled. That explained all the upgrades. But then his question registered, and you pursed your lips. “Actually, no…”

He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms as he leaned against the old counter beside the register. “I’m at your service.”

Taking a breath, you looked at him hopefully. “I need to see about ordering some specialty parts, and how much it’s going to cost.”

That caught his interest. “Really? What are you working on?”

You sighed. “A pet project…one that’s going to take a long time to finish.”

Hearing the tone of your voice, Eddie softened. “Alrighty. Whatcha need?”

Realizing he wasn’t going to push you for more information, your eyes lit up and you smiled at him. You wanted to tell him about the “surprise” that Dustin and Steve had set up for you. But if you were being honest with yourself, you were still trying to wrap your head around what they had done. “A few things. Let’s start with a four barrel Holley carburetor.” 

Eddie grabbed a notepad from the opposite side of the register and began writing. “Uh huh,”

“Rear drum brakes for a ‘78 Chevy,”

“Mhm.”

“Probably a new vacuum modulator.”

He continued to scribble as you listed off a few more parts. He listened patiently as you went down the list. You couldn’t help but wince as you continued telling him what you needed. It was a long list. And it was going to be expensive. 

“That should be it.”

He looked at the list and let out a low whistle. “Damn, sweetheart. Looks like you’ve got a hell of a project going on.”

You let out a snort. “Bit of an understatement,” you muttered. In actuality, you were pretty much rebuilding the entire thing from scratch. And at the moment, you were thanking God above that Billy had taught you so much about his car. “Gonna take me a while.” 

Eddie pursed his lips and read over the list. “Well, I think I might have a spare modulator laying around. Just changed a few out and we ordered some extras. ‘78, you said, right?”

You nodded. 

“Cool. Drum brakes were going to be on our next order, we just ran out. That Holley is probably gonna not take the prettiest penny.” 

You nodded. That wasn’t a surprise. 

“All in all sweetheart…you’re looking at about $2,500, give or take.”

That was actually a little less than you had been expecting, considering the amount of parts you needed to get. “Not bad,” you said. 

Eddie looked at you. “Are you gonna want to order now or wait a bit?”

You paused for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip as you thought. “I’ll get the modulator, the filter, and preorder the brakes for now.”

He nodded. “Gotcha. Both sets?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. I’ll make sure we order those today. They should be here the end of the week.” 

“Nice.”

He grabbed a binder from under the counter and flipped through it, looking for what you assumed was the part numbers. He mumbled to himself as he scanned the laminated pages and tapped a few things into the register. “Three hundred twenty five and thirty-two cents.” he said, looking up at you. “That okay?”

You nodded, setting your small bag onto the counter to dig through and find your wallet. “How long have you worked here?” you asked.

He shrugged. “A year or so. Mack liked to keep me in the back for a while. He needed an extra set of hands in the shop. Said he couldn’t find any mechanics worth a shit.”

You snorted. “Sounds like Mack.”

“Not to sound like a stereotype,” he said, looking up at you as you handed him four hundred. “But where’d you learn to work on cars?”

Your throat tightened momentarily. You cleared it before you spoke. “Billy,” you said. “He was determined to teach me everything he could. Said he wanted me to know what was going on and to make sure that I wouldn’t get swindled. It helped that he was always working on his car. I learned a lot.” 

He nodded. “Good. Thankfully Mack isn’t like a lot of other mechanics, but I’ve seen plenty of assholes in my time try and take advantage of a woman who doesn’t know shit about her car. I’m glad you know what you’re doing.” 

You laughed. “I don’t think I know exactly what I’m doing, but I think I can wing it for the most part.”

Eddie chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Sweetheart, I don’t think this pet project is something you should wing. Sounds important. And expensive.” 

“Eh, we’ll see.”  you said with a smile. “Thanks Eddie.” 

“No problem.” He grinned at you. “Aside from working on your special project, what else are you up to on this fine afternoon?”

You sighed and took the bag that he offered you. “Trying to catch up on homework. I managed most of what Dusty brought me when I missed a few days last week. Now I just have to try and stomach the assignments I have tonight.”

Eddie snorted. “I understand. Seems to me like teachers should spend more time teaching us what will actually get us by in this world instead of the infinite numbers of pi.”

“Seriously,” you said. “I’m trying to keep up with what I have, plus trying to keep my grades up while I look at different colleges.”

He raised an eyebrow and resumed his casual stance leaning against the counter. “College? I didn’t think that was an aspiration of yours.”

You shrugged. “Honestly, it’s more to keep my parents happy than anything. I don’t particularly want to go to college, but hey, there’s always something to learn.” 

“Any idea on what you’d want to study?”

A sigh escaped your lips. “I don’t know…I love science though. If I did actually go, I’d probably pick something in that area.” You laughed before adding on, “Honestly, you’d probably think I’m crazy if I told you the type of reading I do for fun.”

His expression turned serious. “Sweetheart, I’ve seen and heard a lot out of you, and I haven’t ever thought you’re crazy. I doubt there’s anything you could say that would make me think that.”

What if I told you there was an alternate dimension that has portals in Hawkins and has repeatedly split the fabric of the universe apart? What if I told you that it wasn’t an explosion that killed Billy, it was a telepathic monster made of the flesh and bones of the humans it had him lure to it’s lair?

You fought back the intrusive thoughts and tried to laugh. “You really wanna know?” you asked. 

He nodded enthusiastically. “If you’re interested in it, then its got to be something worth knowing about.” 

You snorted and laughed. “Fine. I like reading about nuclear physics and quantum mechanics.”

His expression was more than a little shocked. “You wanna run that by me again, sweetheart? Just to make sure I heard you right?”

“Um…nuclear physics and quantum mechanics?”

Eddie shook his head. “How the hell did you get into that?”

The Upside Down. Finding a way to stop it.

You shrugged. “There’s a lot in this world we don’t understand. But one day I’d like to be able to. Plus, when you actually read and research, it’s not that hard to understand.”

He nodded. “I think if someone sets their mind to something, then nothing is impossible.”

“Exactly!” You grinned at him. Then an idea popped into your head. “Hey, what’re you doing Saturday night?”

He shrugged. “Not a lot. Coffin has a gig at 12, but before that I’m probably just going to be sitting at home. Why? What’s up?”

“My parents are having some old friends over. I don’t really want to be there, but I promised my mom I would try. She said I could have a friend over too. Would you…would you want to come?”

“Are you asking me on a date, sweetheart? And meeting your parents already?” he teased. 

You laughed. “Talk about moving fast.” you said with a chuckle. “Honestly, I need someone that’s not going to make me feel like jumping off the roof instead of socializing.” 

He nodded. “I understand. Getting yourself back out there after being isolated for so long can be hard.”

“Yeah…and right now I want nothing to do with anyone.” 

Eddie laughed. “I understand that too. What time?”

“You’ll come?” you asked hopefully. 

“Yeah sweetheart, I’ll come. But you gotta let me know what I’m walking into.” he said with a chuckle. “I’m not exactly everyone’s favorite person.” 

Reaching beside him, you grabbed the notebook and pencil he’d been using earlier. “Really nice couple. Known my parents for a long time. They have a kid, but she’s actually pretty cool. Kind of reminds me of Dustin.” After writing down your address, you slid the paper back to him. “They’re gonna love you.”

He raised an eyebrow when he saw the street name, realizing you lived in one of the more upscale areas of Hawkins. “Sounds like fun.” 

You beamed at him and he couldn’t help but smile back. “They’re supposed to come at six. But if you want to come a little earlier, I can introduce you to my parents.”

“Sure. I’ll be there.” 

~*~*~*~

“Honey? You home?”

“Yeah mom!” you called as you shut the front door behind you. You slipped out of your converse and put them on the rack. “I just went by Mack’s.” 

She came around the corner to meet you, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Did you get what you needed?” Her expression was hopeful and you smiled. 

“Not all of it, but I got a good start! Eddie was really helpful. Shocked at how much it was gonna cost, but helpful.” 

“Oh, the mechanic? He changed the oil in the Jeep for me last week. Seems to be a nice kid.” 

You nodded. “I go to school with him.” you said. “Actually…I think I might be making friends?” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” 

“Yeah…funny story, actually.” 

Your mom grinned and took the bag from your hands. “Come on. Tell me about it.” 

You chuckled and followed her into the kitchen. She grabbed two cans of coke from the fridge and handed you one before settling in her chair and looking at you expectantly. 

“So you know the Hellfire Club? The DnD club Dustin and the guys joined?” 

She nodded before rolling her eyes. “You wouldn’t believe the rumors circulating about it.” 

You snorted. “I’m sure they’re al saying that it’s a cult and they’re worshipping the devil.” 

Your mom laughed. “Pretty much.” 

“Doesn’t surprise me.” 

“Me either. Anyways, continue.” 

You cracked open the soda and took a sip. “Eddie is the Dungeon Master. I’ve heard Dustin rant and rave about him. He and Mike have been trying to get me to join a campaign soon, which is happened next weekend by the way. Dustin was hanging around with me during lunch last week and out of nowhere Eddie drops down at our table being all loud ‘n shit. Scares the bejesus out of me and sends me into an attack.” 

The concern on her face warmed your cheeks. 

“Dustin kind of blanked…it was actually Eddie that coached me through. Surprised me, really. And he even checked on me after school to make sure I was okay.” 

She nodded. “I don’t know much about him, just some small talk after he changed the oil, but he seems like a good kid.” 

You nodded. “Dustin has nothing but good to say about him. People at school? Not so much. But he’s actually really great.” You bit your lip, not knowing how much you should divulge. “He lost some family…that’s why he’s with his uncle. Someone he was close to used to have panic attacks…he was the only one who could get them through.” 

Your mom hummed quietly. “I’m glad he’s helped you.” 

“Me too.” You smiled slightly. “He’s brought me breakfast at school to make sure I’m eating. I guess Dustin was a little tattle tale.” 

She chuckled. “He’s just watching out for you, honey. I for one, am glad he is.” 

You rolled your eyes. “With how many people are ‘watching out for me’, I feel like I’m under a microscope.” 

She snorted. “You’re too pretty to be a specimen.” 

That actually made you laugh. “Thanks.” 

“Oh, did you get a chance to talk to Steve about Saturday? I saw him in the store earlier, he was asking about you.”

“Actually…I thought about asking Eddie to come?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying that as a statement or a question?”

You shrugged. “Well, what do you think? I feel pretty comfortable around him, and I know he can help me through a panic attack.”

She hummed again. “I’d say I want you to think about it.” she said honestly.

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she started, “You’ve been pretty private since the accident. You barely talk to Steve, and I know Nancy and Robin don’t come around as much as they used to. Dustin has pretty much been the only one who can talk you into doing something.”

Your frown only deepened. 

Sensing that she was dancing around the point, your mom sighed. “Do you want me to put it bluntly?”

You nodded. 

“Honey, you haven’t been social with anyone since Billy died. Do you think you’re trying to put something on Eddie that he doesn’t need to carry?”

Then it hit you. Your immediate reaction was to get angry. You were pretty sure the expression on your face reflected that. But you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Mom.” you said. “Billy isn’t replaceable. I loved him.” You held up your left hand, “I was going to marry him after I graduated. If I was ever going to think about dating someone again, it wouldn’t be this soon, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be anyone from this shitty town.” 

Tears were flowing freely at this point and you didn’t bother to hold them back. You didn’t think you’d be able to even if you tried. “I know I’ve been a terrible friend for everyone, Max most of all, but I’ve been trying. And since I’ve started trying, I’ve been having more and more panic attacks. I’m putting myself out there again. Sure, I know them, but that doesn’t make a difference. I love all of them, and I would lose my goddamn mind if anything happened to them. Especially after the accident. I can’t lose anyone else. That’s why I was trying to keep my distance. That’s why I closed myself off to them.” 

She could tell that you were starting to hyperventilate. She reached for your hand, which you latched onto. Your chest tightened as you continued pushing the words out. “Eddie definitely reminds me of Billy, which is why its hard to be around him sometimes. But he’s his own person. No one can ever take Billy’s place.” You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down. If you kept going at this pace, you knew it would end in another panic attack. And that was something you were desperately trying to avoid. 

“Eddie didn’t judge me when I fell apart in front of him. Instead, he helped me get myself together and made sure I was okay afterwards. I don’t feel like I have to hide my feelings around him. He’s had a similar loss and understands what’s going on up in my head. I’m not okay more than half the time. But Eddie has gone out of his way to make sure that I’m okay around him.”

 You let out a choked sob and began to curl in on yourself. 

Stop, you scolded yourself. This isn’t helping anyone. Take a deep breath and shove those feelings back into their box.

You’d had inklings of feelings similar to your mother’s. You needed your own verbal assurance that Eddie wasn’t taking Billy’s place in your life. His death had left a massive hole. In your heart, in your head, in your life. There wasn’t anything that anyone could do or say that would ever fill it. You knew that. 

She got up from her seat across from you and walked around the island, kneeling down and grabbing your other hand. “Look at me, baby girl. It’s okay.”

You focused on her for a moment before taking a deep breath and struggling to pull your mind out of the dark pit it was trying to crawl into. It sent a shiver down your spine as you fought it, but you managed to haul yourself back to reality. 

You sniffled and took one of your hands out of your mom’s to grab a napkin from the island. “Sorry,” you mumbled.” 

She shook her head. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

You looked back at her, eyes wide as you searched her face. You knew she had a valid point in her thoughts about Eddie. From an outsider’s perspective, you couldn’t blame her for having that suspicion. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say?” you asked cautiously. 

She was quiet for a moment before she nodded. “I think I do.” While she wasn’t completely in your shoes, she could understand the need to be around someone who had experienced something similar in the past and made it through. “I do. And honestly, I’m glad you feel okay with him. I never really understood why you were pushing everyone away instead of leaning on them for support. But now I do. And I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to help you with that sooner.”

You shrugged slowly. “It wasn’t something I really talked about…not even with Allie.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s something you need to talk about in your next session. I’m not a specialist, but this definitely sounds like something that’s hindering you.”

She was right, of course, which made you sigh. “Okay.” you agreed. You looked up at your mom, exhaustion seeping through you. “But for now can we make some popcorn and watch a movie?”and pressed a kiss to the side of your head, holding you as sobs racked your body. As you slowly calmed down, your head began to clear. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. 

Your mom shook her head. “Nothing to be sorry about, honey. I’m the one who should apologize. I know it hasn’t been easy for you at all. But I’m so happy you’re finding a friend in Eddie. And if he understands, then I’m even happier.” 

You gave her a soft smile and wiped your eyes again. “Thanks mom.” 

Taglist: @yourdailymemedelivery@1-fuzzy-squirrels@shiggay@chrisevansmarvelmcu@mrsyixingunicorn10@rebelcthulhu @ethen-often @liv-raines@inthemindofaweirdo@mystrangerfics@mattysheelies@hargrovesprincess@ssstutteringbbbill@fuchsia-knight@gooddoggodrogo @jaaxely@sebastiansloserclub@acthenerd@dollface-80 @prettyboyhargrove@uncle-keery@sydneyisnotawriter

[oliviaischillin1204]

This Fanfiction Of Sanders Sides Is Called "Bluey" Part 1: Roman

[olivia's note: hi everyone! this is part 1 of a fic submitted by the incredible, incomparable anne onymous! i absolutely adore bluey and this fic is so freaking cute i can't stand it. thank you so much! <;3]

chapters 1 (2) (3) (4)

Despite being a fatherly figure, part of Patton would always be a child at heart. That's probably how he found himself watching "Bluey". Sure, it was for kids but lots of older people love it too, including Thomas. He was watching the show in the living room when Emile walked in. "Good morning, Patty-cakes. Whatcha watching?" he asked. "Morning Emmy, I'm just watching this new show. Well, not exactly new, it's been out for quite a while, but you should watch it with me. It's so cute!" Patton explained. Emile sat next to him on the couch and immediately recognised the Heelers. "Oh, you're watching "Bluey", I love this show! How far have you gotten?" Emile inquired. "Actually, I finished it. Just having a little season one rewatch. Want me to go back to episode one?" Patton asked. "Sure, if it's no trouble." Emile said. Patton paused the episode he was on and went back to the episode guide to select "Magic Xylophone", the first episode.

"Oh yeah, I forgot this was on Disney+. I guess I got too used to watching those free episodes on TikTok." Emile said. "Normally I wouldn't encourage piracy, but it does make it a lot fairer for those who can't afford it or or just don't have access to every episode." Patton confessed. "Yeah, that's how I see it too. You know, if we're gonna have a Bluey marathon, might as well do it properly." Emile said, snapping his fingers. In an instant, he was wearing a Bingo onesie and holding a Bluey plushie, and Patton wore a Bluey onesie and had a Bingo plushie. Patton gasped in delight and squealed. "I love this! You can summon things too?!" Patton exclaimed, squeezing the toy. "Uh-huh. It's just not really needed in Cartoon Therapy. And when I do use it, it's almost unnoticeable." Emile explained, hitting play. After dancing along to the intro, Emile noticed Patton seemed to be fidgeting and blushing. "You ok?" Emile asked. "Yeah, it's just this scene." Patton admitted. Emile looked back at the TV and saw Bandit playing Bluey like a piano. 

"Roman did the same thing to me a few days ago. When I asked him what was that for, he said..." Patton started before clearing his throat and removing his glasses. "Really, Padre? I thought you of all Sides would know half as much about Bluey as I do." Patton continued in Roman's voice. "Oh my god, you sounded just like him!" Emile giggled. "Thanks. Anyway, that's how I started watching Bluey. After the first episode, I was hooked." Patton said, putting his glasses back on. "So you weren't looking for ways to get him back?" Emile inquired. "No, but I guess I could still do that since there's quite a few tickling scenes in this show. After all, no one gets away with tickling the tickle monster in this household." Patton replied. "That's it! We'll watch every episode we can think of that has anything to do with tickling and then that could get you some ideas!" Emile suggested. "Great idea, Emile!" Patton agreed. As soon as "Magic Xylophone" ended, so began the search for inspiration. They watched "Daddy Robot", "Hotel", "Butterflies", "Mount Mumandad", "Ticklecrabs" and even "Perfect". By the time they were finished, Patton had a few ideas in mind but wasn't sure which one to use for Roman. 

"Sure, Ticklecrabs is pretty teasy and that really gets to him, but surprise tickles work really well too and I could definitely surprise him by being a crazy pillow or crazy blanket. But "Poor Little Bug On The Wall" gave me a really good idea for a tickle game. Oh, why is this so hard?" Patton complained, burying his face in his Bingo plushie. Emile frowned. He hated seeing Patton like this and anyone could tell you that decision making can be a nightmare if there's too many options. Surely he can help somehow. Then it struck him. "Why not try all the techniques on me first? Then you can decide based on which ones felt the most fitting." Emile suggested. Patton looked at Emile and smiled. "Ok. If you're sure." he agreed, cracking his knuckles. Emile giggled nervously as he laid across Patton's lap. After almost 20 minutes of testing different methods, Emile's glasses were fogged up and he was a sweaty, giggly, panting mess. "Thanks for the help, Dr Giggles." Patton said, sneaking a few quick pokes to Emile's tummy before leaving. Emile yawned and went to his room for a well-deserved nap.

Patton knocked on Roman's door, ready to put his plan into action. "Come iiiiin!" Roman sang from inside. Patton let himself in, trying to suppress a smirk. "Hi Roman!" Patton greeted. "Hey Patt–aww, cute onesie. Bluey, huh? Thought for sure you'd go for Bandit since, well, you know." Roman remarked. "Well, we are both dads." Patton agreed. In an instant, he changed his onesie from Bluey to Bandit. As Roman looked down at himself, he realised Patton gave him the Bluey onesie. "Ooh. Thanks." Roman said. "You're welcome, kiddo. I thought Bluey suited you. Although there is one character I think suits you better." Patton replied, summoning a new onesie. Roman looked at his onesie and realised it changed from Bluey to Muffin. "Hey!" Roman protested, glaring at Patton who was already hunched over, laughing. "Sorry, Roman! I couldn't resist!" Patton chuckled, changing the onesie back to Bluey as Roman pouted and mumbled grumpily. "Awww, don't be grouchy. I think I know what'll turn that frown upside down, Mr Grumpy." Patton said, taking his phone out and selecting a Bluey episode: Daddy Robot. Roman smiled and the two sat together on his bed as they watched. 

After a few minutes, the scene where Bandit treats Bluey like a banjo was about to play and Patton was ready to strike. Without warning, he grabbed Roman by the wrists and started "strumming" across his belly. "Gah! Patton, what are you do–Ah! Hahahahaha! Pahahattohohon! Whyhyhyhy?!" Roman chuckled. "My oh my, this is one chatty banjo." Patton teased. Roman was internally facepalming right now. How did he forget Patton is the biggest tickle monster in the Mind Palace? He couldn't help himself when he did what he did last week. When he saw Patton napping in his room with his shirt ridden up, his exposed tummy was practically begging for tickles! And all the different laughs he makes when he's tickled are so cute, from his giggles and snorts, to his baby-like cackles. Curse his adorably misleading ticklishness! "Wait a minute, this isn't a banjo. Silly me. It's a piano!" Patton exclaimed as he released Roman's wrists, singing a tune as he started "playing" him across his ribs and tummy. Roman kicked frantically, curled into himself and even attempted to crawl away, but Patton wasn't letting him go. 

"Ladies, gentlemen and esteemed guests, my sincerest apologies. I seem to be having a bit of a struggle with this piano." Patton joked as he dragged Roman back to his lap. Roman tried to groan but was too busy laughing. He should've known that line would come back to haunt him. "Pahahahat, plehehease! I'm sohohohorry! Hahahahaha!" Roman cackled. "What's the magic word?" Patton asked. "Stohohohop!" Roman squealed. "Actually the magic word was "xylophone", but I'll accept "stop" since this is only fun for me when it's fun for you and you're getting tired." Patton said, stopping immediately. As Roman caught his breath, Patton summoned a glass of water and gave it to him. "Thanks." Roman sighed, gulping it down. "So, what have we learned today?" Patton asked. "Always expect revenge when you tickle the tickle monster?" Roman guessed. "That's there's only one tickle monster and it's not you, mister." Patton said, booping Roman's nose on the last word. "Can't you be THE tickle monster and I can be A tickle monster? Roman reasoned. "Are we gonna have to perform an encore?" Patton asked, wiggling his fingers threateningly. "Nope! Lesson learned." Roman assured, covering his stomach protectively. Patton giggled and got up to leave. 

"At least you're not worse than Remus." Roman muttered. "Huh? What does Remus have to do with anything?" Patton asked. Roman froze. "I don't know, what does Remus have to do with this?" he stammered hesitantly. "You just said I wasn't worse than him. What did you mean by that?" Patton inquired. "I didn't say that." Roman denied. "Roman, don't lie to me." Patton said sternly. Roman sighed. "Fine. Sometimes he randomly pops in here out of the blue and tickles me until I nearly pass out or wet myself. He doesn't care if I keep saying "stop" and I usually have to physically pry him off, if I even have the strength to." Roman explained. "That's horrible! Tickling is supposed to be fun, it's practically a game we're born with in our systems. I know Remus goes overboard with a lot of things, but this is where I draw the line. That kiddo needs a punishment and I'm just the dad for the job. Where is he?" Patton ranted. "How should I know? I'm not a dark Side. Ask Virgil, he used to be one." Roman suggested. "Good thinking, I'll go find him. If Remus comes in here while I'm gone, scream for me." Patton said, leaving the room. "Oh, I'll be screaming alright." Roman grumbled.

To be continued...

[emilyblame]

Intellectual Property review? maybe?

well, hello, there! it’s been a minute. i’m writing this after three listens and putting it all under a cut so i don’t spoil anyone. also, i wrote down first impressions which i kept in italic here so you guys could read then if you want because some of them changed over two more listens.

overall: i liked it a lot! which surprised me. but yeah…

favorite song so far: Closer.

St*rfucker

could've done without that much autotune. it hurt my ears. i like how it plays into RSD though.

ok, autotune may not be that annoying in third listen. i really like the abrupt ending and the way that plays into RSD.

Real Super Dark

it would be good if Awsten could actually scream. also, he really over-played the serial-killer-Otto joke.

i stand by my first impression. hate the serial-killer-Otto-joke lyrics. and hate that it carried throughout the entire song even more.

Funeral Grey

cute song. lyrics suck ass. but the music is catchy and fun.

i wanna add that is really fun to sing and jump along to, too. still, lyrics are kinda meh, but… the music is good. the vocals are great.

Brainwashed

this one is actually good. i like it a lot.

it has a killer riff. the pre-chorus vocal melody is so cool (i love it when he sings fast.) and also, boy! the bass track in this song is insane! *chef’s kiss*

2 Best Friends

chorus is a bit of a letdown...? like, it falls flat a little bit, you know what i mean?

harmonies are on point once more. i appreciate that he dropped the guitars for the chorus because it makes it sound different and new. like, that little synth/piano melody at the end of the chorus is very cool. although, i can’t help but think the whole song sounds like a demo? does that make sense? it lacks something, like it’s unfinished somehow.

End of the Water (Feel)

it's a pity he probably needed to autotune the high parts because he can't hit those notes. i'd like it better clean, the song is good. it could've been a cool feature with a female singer. just putting it out there.

still think this could sound better as a feature with a female singer. and he is friends with plenty, so he could have made it happen. like, that quiet chorus at the end? with a second voice harmonizing? come on.

Self-Sabotage

i love this one. loved it since it came out. the music is good, the lyrics are... you know? fine hahaha. nah, they’re good. i like it a lot.

i remember the first time i heard this one, thinking that the lyrics sounded geniune for the first time in a long time. still stand by this. i fucking love this song. i think it’s great.

Ritual

the opening had me laughing out loud. why is his screaming so bad? and why is he still trying to make it happen? ugh, it's a pity, i really like this one, it would've been so awesome if he could actually scream. the bridge is trippy as fuck in the BEST of ways.

still stand by the fact that Awsten can’t scream. it doesn’t sound good when he does it. the chorus would sound so fucking cool if he had a good screaming voice. it is still cool, but it’s kinda missing something. anyway, headphones for the bridge, kids! it’s so good, for fuck’s sake.

Fuck About It

hate me. leave me. i liked this song since it came out. i'm not even sorry about it. it's catchy as fuck. the chorus just rolls off the tongue. blackbear's verse leaves... a lot to be desired, i'm not gonna lie, but whatcha gonna do about it?

i mean, i like bear’s voice but it feels like the lyrics to his verse don’t really match the rest of the song. like, Awsten is singing that he doesn’t give a fuck about the relationship and then bear is setting himself as the victim, but… they’re supposed to be singing from the same point of view, right? unless…

Closer

acoustic? refreshing. i mean we got it in Brainwashed, but it has a different vibe here. this one has that The Kids From Yesterday vibes. oooh, i like it a lot. also, lyrics sound real. goddamnit, this song sounds like Waterparks. okay, i may be in happy tears right now because this is the only song that actually sounds like Waterparks in forever.

this is the best song of the album. and it’s also my favorite right now. are you listening to this shit? it’s SO FUCKING GOOD! and the lyrics! and everything! and the last chorus. i haven’t wanted to hug Awsten this bad in a very long time.

A Night Out On Earth

another great closing track. it's the one thing Awsten has always known how to get right. HE DID AN ACTUALLY FUCKING REPRISE. YES!!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S SO FUCKING EPIC. PLEASE.

ok, it wasn’t much of a reprise, he just sucks at enunciating and i wasn’t really paying much attention to lyrics the first time around. but it’s still a very good song, regardless. that acoustic break is nice as fuck. i also loved the callout to ‘Lemonade’.

overall (again):

i liked it more than i thought i would. i mean, i went in with zero expectations after what happened with ‘Greatest Hits’ (hated it for a year, love it now tho. don’t worry, we’re besties.) and honestly, i’m pleasantly surprised. it’s a good album.

i mean, there’s nothing much to add. i think we could’ve use without the 50 page essay of the album art explanation. i feel like the whole thing is pretty self-explanatory. and it would only take a simple google search to find the reason behind the frog and connect it with the topics of the album. but, imma let Awsten be Awsten. it really doesn’t matter what he does, i still love the kid.

now get your stupid white ass to south america, i wanna see you live.

[lurkingteapot]

Laws of Attraction กฎแห่งรักดึงดูด Ep 8

I really, really enjoyed this finale. I'll have to rewatch with subs at some point, at least in parts, because some of the details were lost on me (what was that new case of Chaan's about?), but I'm looking forward to it. I hope we get more queer shows out of One31 going forward -- can Organ and Sylvie get a spinoff, maybe? aaah I'll keep dreaming. Anyway! The live blog.

--

Six days late, but I'm watching this! I'm very sad that this is going to be over. Excited, too, though. Alright, going in.

WHAT THE FUCK is this cold open with the flashback in the moment of death type scene

Oh no, going to pay respect to his mum before he goes join her, huh.

ooooh is Maayaa going to broadcast whatever confession Rose catches at that warehouse live during her announced live? I BET she is and that's such a smart move, can't make something tens of thousands of followers saw unseen

this house remains an abomination

oh god Nawin please shut up

asdfasdf of course they're gonna punch each other about it

pick up the gd necklace, that's a tripping hazard or something

oh baby, crying in business class, huh

well that knot came apart easily

rescuing our lovers solidarity, huh

YIKES those boinks to the head with that thing would've had a pretty decent chance of killing the dudes if this were real

hahaha of course Chaan planted stuff. Let's hope this plays out as he hoped. can hardly believe Thatthep is this dumb, though on the other hand …

… oh god is Tinn going to ruin this take. He IS, isn't he.

I am SO nervous, goodness

he's pretttty convincing

250k viewers is pretty incredible

WOW this dude is cold as ice

ahahaha of COURSE someone was going to tell them this was getting streamed and they REALLY should've seen that coming

just put the freaking doll away and HIDE ffs Chaan

Tinn to the rescue

you fuckers, RUN

what are you doing

oh ffs Tinn don't RUSH the guy with the gun, and you, Chaan, don't just STAND there ffs

yeah that … was going to happen and I sure hope he's wearing body armour of some sort

how many shots does this thing HAVE??

hey. hate to interrupt but thatthep is still RIGHT THERE and ARMED

ROSE <3 <3 <3 I love her so much oh my GOD

okay everyone here is useless, why hasn't anyone called an ambulance

also I feel like Tinn should've been able to FEEL the body armour but w/e

so did they pull Thaenthai off the plane or what

adsfasdfasdasdf oh no he was being that passenger but I guess it's all for the best, huh

over the top and overdramatic, 10/10 no notes

asdfasdfasf Chaan being a BRAT because he can

GRANDMA 😂

asdfasdfasd of COURSE she'd be like "this is a HOSPITAL"

oh poor baby, your dad doesn't even want to see you in this situation, huh

and he said it himself

man I feel bad for Thaenthai.

offering Chaan "everything/anything" is a dangerous thing, Tinn

Tinn is so cute in his slow realisations. yes it's sorta overacted. no I don't care.

awww POST IT NOTES

oh no this is so cheesy (I love it) 😂

(it's a northern song!)

a proposal! wow. you've not even lived together yet! you only know his regular bad habits, not the living together ones! AND THEY'RE SHADING THE LEGAL SITUATION I love them

god they are ADORABLE

oh no, shovel talk!!!

asdfsdfasd TINN 😂😂😂

aaah the wlw mlm solidarity we love to see

I really dislike proposal and marriage plots but I'll give it to them, this admit this is cute

Nawin 😂

MORE shovel talk, oh no

oh, perfect drowning opportunity!

… is Thatthep trying to be a big man even in prison? I was so sure they'd ostracise him for killing a kid

ffs someone shut this dude up already (let it be Thee)

… oh WOW yikes ouch

I kinda hate that it was this was something Chaan probably set up. Not a fan of people making third parties get their hands dirty for revenge

awwww Thaen

whatcha gonna do with all this, hm? sell the house, get an apartment somewhere, be happy with Thee?

I really wanted for them to get to kiss, but you know what? these hugs are so heartfelt, I'll take them

oh Tinn, don't do that to yourself

look at grandma! look at Tinn with that ridiculous oversized bow tie!

Chaan subscribing to the "sun's out guns out" philosophy of fashion even on his wedding day, I see

ah, so he does have a jacket

oh they look good. hair and make-up on POINT

I have opinions on the set-up of this but there's a time and place for salt and this is probably not it

ASDFASDFDS GRANDMA

I like the "noise fades away and they're in their own world" of this love Sylvie's singing voice, godDANG

oh, Rose, looking at her all in love <3

Win 😅

of course they watch wuxia. probably domestically produced ones, too. incredible.

oh god I love them

KISS!!!!!!

aaaaaah can Rose and Maya kiss, too? for me?

god Chaan's "I'm so lucky" in love eyes. Film's expression here is so different from Thian's in-love-face and I love both of them.

AAAAAH MY GIRLS!!!!!!

PRODUCT PLACEMENT hello. I want twenty of those but also this REALLY shows the age of the intended target audience

ahaha Chaan back on the job, stirring shit. I love him.

oh my goodness, Chaan actually said it

this is reaching PatPran levels of interruption

I love them

I guess that was supposed to be cute but I couldn't see it as anything but overstepping, sorry, Tinn

oh, I love these long shots

… and that finaly second of that shot was 100% Film turning to the camera like "are we done yet" 😂

[b33srcoolff]

Mornings with you are my favorite mornings| spencer reid

a/n: so i always lose the motivation to write if you guys cant tell but im back and i really just wanted to write a little blurb so here ya go!

My eyes fluttered open and i that nerdy boy , I loved these morning when i woke up and saw his face, that same face that i had been crushing on since middle school before he moved and went to high school, ya know at first i hated it because out of all people they had to move my spencer the dorkie cute one that was always getting picked on, but then i realized i should be glad for him, glad that he's getting away from the horrible people at this awful school. When I finally made it out of my long train of thoughts, I realized he was awake. He spoke with his morning voice, the voice that I lived for “ whatcha thinking about '' . God, he sounded so adorable, “ nothing, nothing at all.” I knew he knew that that was a lie. “Well hate to break it to you but the female brain actually makes it impossible to not think, even when you are sleeping so that is one big fat lie” he smiled at the end of his sentence. He was so cute my swoon was all ruined when i realized that we both had work “ugh i don't wanna work i want to stay here all day and do absolutely nothing” i said while giving him a kiss and pulling me closer “sadly we have to or else we would not have a home”  i rolled my eyes “ugh whatever genius boy” as I rolled out of bed and l let out one big sigh as i made it to our closet and picked out a regular outfit because although spencer had finished school early i was still in college getting my MLIS degree and had to work after my classes.  After a while of being in my own thoughts i felt a kiss on my cheek “can you hand me my button up sweetheart” I reached for his button up and handed it to him “ thank you love” i replied in a small “welcome” once i had finished getting ready i realized i was gonna be late to my first class “i rushed to the door and went for my keys when i had seen that spencer already had them and was waiting for me. “Almost gave me a heart attack babe” I said, getting rid of the horror that i had on my face, “well that wouldn't be good, now come on we got places to baby”. God I wish we could spend all day together but we have lifes to attend to sadly. I said goodbye to Spencer and hopped out of the car. 

Ugh that was such a rushed ending but my computer is literally broken so we just have to deal with it. But should I do a part two and have one of them set up like a little date? Maybe even some angst???? Also you guys  are prob gonna get a double post so yippie!!!