#source: you can't do that on television
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incorrectlooneytunesquotes · 10 months ago
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Bugs: Now class, as we are going on a field trip, I think it is most important [points to the word "BASEX" written on the blackboard] that we know the basics of nature. Can anyone tell me what are the four natural elements of the univoise?...Babs?
Babs: Earth.
Bugs: Right, that's one. Buster?
Buster: Air.
Bugs: Yeah, that's right, that's two. Shoiley?
Shirley: Like uh... fire!
Bugs: Right! And now, Plucky. Can you tell me what the fourth element is?
Plucky: Yeah, but I'm not going to.
Bugs: Well Plucky, either you tell me what the fourth element is, or you tell me you don't know.
Plucky: Well, either way I get something dropped on me. [gets a look of resignation on his face] Okay, water.
[Plucky is drenched.]
Bugs: [laughing] Oh, it's moments like these that make teaching woithwhile.
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4/30: HAPPY F-LAGS DAY!!
[Dungeon scene from a period movie...]
Kazuki: But you can't do this, this is torture!
Daigo: I know.
Ryo: (gets stretched by a torture rack) GYAOOOOHHH!!!!!
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loves4ge · 5 months ago
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celebrity!au cw: swearing, gojo is disgustingly in love
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gojo satoru is thoroughly and utterly fucked. there are only ten minutes left until he has to go live for an interview—promotional material for his new movie. the only problem is you, his sweet costar; you had him wrapped around your finger.
despite being each other's on-screen love interests, your schedules hadn't matched until now to do an interview together. and gojo fucking satoru, one of the biggest celebrities to ever set foot in the hall of fame, is nervous. because he knows when gets out there, you'll be waiting for him. you've always been early to places (not really, he's just late).
it's not just the thought of you that has his stomach twisting in knots, it's his obsessive—and frankly, scary—fangirls who hang onto his every look, every glance, every word. even if no one finds out about his itsy bitsy crush, they will. and they will ruin you.
and he can't do that to you! this is your big break after slaving away in minor roles with a no-name cast. you're in the spotlight too much after only have seen the light being shone on other people, there's already too much pressure on you. the sudden onslaught of fans can be overwhelming, but the critics? they're so much harsher than what you expected.
"gojo, get out." it's his manager. deep breaths, he advises himself as he lifts out of the chair and to the set. where you are. god.
"so, i hear the set can get pretty crazy?" the interviewer smiles as he says it. he has that mall santa vibe; a little bit jolly and just slightly discomfort inducing.
your laugh slips out and gojo swears he almost died there. but he makes a conscious effort to not look at your lips. he sneaks a glance anyway.
"that's right! you should see the mess this man makes," you say, nodding your head towards the white-blond man. he should've worn his sunglasses, at least that way he could've stared at you in peace.
"hey! i'm not at fault here," gojo defends himself, guffawed. he crosses his arms as if he was trying to protect his chastity. or defend his honor, i suppose.
"mm, that's what they all say." your playful tone has him weak in the knees and he's thanking the gods that he's sitting down otherwise he would've folded right then and there.
"so geto suguru was here earlier and he mentioned that there was some steam in the movie, eh?"
stay professional, stay professional, stay professional.
"oh yeah. there are a couple of scenes for sure. it wouldn't have turned out as well as they did if it wasn't for satoru. i've never done an intimate scene before and he was just so comforting and really, a strong source of support for me."
fuck.
gojo breaks into a grin, his hand platonically (he hopes) pats your shoulder.
"it actually wouldn't have gone so well if it wasn't for our earth shattering chemistry. and our intimacy coordinator. yep, you heard it here first guys. bridgerton isn't the only show that gets one!" he's not entirely sure if the comedic route was the one to take after your heartfelt confession but he can't seem to respond as sincerely as he wants on television.
your giggle makes up for it though. and the light slap against his thigh. god. he has to resist the urge to ask you to do it again.
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10 MINUTE COMPILATION OF GOJO BEING DOWN BAD FOR HIS COSTAR (ft. geto)
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bayjaruchel · 1 year ago
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Underneath The Strobe Light
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Pairing: Mike Schmidt (2023)/AFAB Reader
Rating: Explicit
Summary: You're aware of your feelings for Mike, but you're unsure if he feels the same. A single late-night conversation changes everything. (4.2k | originally posted on ao3 | Masterlist )
Extra Notes: Posted October 29, 2023
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You know Mike, sometimes. Mainly in bits and pieces. 
You know he has that poster of Nebraska above his bed; you know he's got a soft spot for terrible eighties cartoons. You know he likes his steak well done. Maybe it's generally useless information — but you've tucked it all away in a dear corner of your brain, in a well-worn cardboard box with his name scrawled fondly on the side in Sharpie. 
He's been busy nowadays, especially with his awful new job at that abandoned restaurant. You've always been there if he needs someone to watch over Abby. It's a strange juxtaposition— spending more and more time at his house, but spending less and less time actually talking to him. But you know he's exhausted, both mentally and physically. 
You don't expect much. You don't need much. Even though Mike's always offered to actually pay you for babysitting Abby, you've always declined. 
However— needing and wanting are two very different things. 
And you want. So, so much. 
Sitting here, on the couch in his living room, your mind always wanders back to him. Abby's a really nice kid, even if she's a little on the eccentric side. Whenever you're sitting with her, watching her draw or watching the television, you can't really focus on Mike. But now, with her safely put to bed … There's nothing to stop you. Nothing to distract you from the empty spot next to you on the couch. 
You blink, already bleary-eyed from the hour. There's some mediocre sitcom playing on the television. It's practically white noise, and you can feel yourself slowly but surely being lulled to sleep. The stubborn part of you wants to fight it. The tired part of you wants to just let it happen. You fumble for the remote instead, switching the channel. 
World News Now? 
Not bad, you think wryly, slumping back into the pillows. You liked the guy playing the accordion and singing about the news, polka-style. Hopefully they'll bring that back. Maybe large broadcasting networks actually do know their audiences. 
Yeah, no. 
You stifle a yawn, tugging your blanket a little tighter. The room's dark, so the only real sources of light are coming from the kitchen and the bluish glow of the television. The only sounds besides that of the T.V. are the occasional car passing by, joined by the gentle chorus of crickets. It's quiet, but not in a discomforting way. 
It's kind of perfect. Like your own little bubble in the world. Untouchable. Not until the sun rises, anyway. 
Your bubble suddenly pops when a car pulls into the driveway, tires crunching on the pavement, and your heart skips. 
It couldn't be anyone else. 
About a minute later, there's the sound of keys turning in the lock. The door swings open and then shuts behind him. Softly. He knows Abby would wake up if he slammed it. Then there's the thump of him setting down his stuff— carelessly. 
The couch cushions squeak a little when Mike sits down next to you. Silently. He's gotten rid of that stupid security vest. 
"Hey," you offer. 
"Hi," he obliges. 
You're sure he's not really paying attention to the T.V. "How was work?" 
It's bland small talk at best, and brutally annoying at worst. But it's the only way to move into interesting conversation territory. And he didn't just trudge past you to go flop down on his bed, so you're assuming he does want to talk. You might pretend not to know, but you're well aware of his social life— or lack thereof. Everyone needs to talk, sometimes. 
"Pretty dull." Rolling his probably stiff shoulders, he lets out a small sound of discomfort. Sheepishly, he murmurs: "I kind of … I kind of just napped, to be honest." 
"Aren't you supposed to be a security guard?" You tease. "That's a really important job, you know. You have to stop all the dangerous teenagers from breaking in and spray-painting dicks on the walls." 
He huffs out something reminiscent of a laugh. "Honestly, the pay's too low to take it seriously." 
"And yet … " 
"There weren't any kids, okay?" Mike shakes his head. When you turn to look at him, though, he's smiling. It's faint, but it's there. "No dangerous teenagers that I had to fight off. It was fine." 
"Fine?" 
"Fine." 
You don't want to let the silence set in. 
"Oh, yeah, we finished the leftover spaghetti earlier. For dinner. I hope that's okay." 
"No, it's terrible," he deadpans. "I hate you." 
"Asshole." 
"Whatever." Mike snickers, and you bask in its gloriousness. "Yeah, it's okay. I know that I probably wouldn't have eaten it anyway. Did you, uh … " He pauses for a split second. "… Did you like it?" 
His tone makes you wonder, but you hastily brush it off. "Yeah, I did," you clarify, "the sauce was pretty great. Was it store-bought, or?" Because if it was, then where can I get it?
"Yup," he replies, popping the 'p'. "Great stuff, for something that's canned. But I always add a little more garlic powder, too." 
"Oh, really?" 
Mike hums an affirmation. "It's like magic, I'm telling you. Doesn't even take a lot to add flavor." 
"That's cool." You rustle with your blanket again, adjusting it more out of habit than anything else. That, and it's kind of cold. "I'll try and remember it for later." 
He's almost cheeky when he speaks. 
"It's life-changing." 
You can't help but snort. "You sound like an addict." 
Incredulously, he glances at you. "To what? Garlic powder?" 
"Pretty much, yeah." 
"I can't believe that you'd say that." He slowly shakes his head, for the second time in the span of roughly a minute. "Especially as someone who's experienced it firsthand—" 
"—you're the one talking about how life-changing it is—" 
"—you can't possibly ignore the irresistible savoriness of garlic powder." 
You look at one another for a moment. The sheer absurdity of the situation sets in all at once. And, well. He starts giggling, and you can't hold it in, either. How could you? Even though he looks at least part zombie, his eyes are still very much alive. Despite the blatant awkwardness and lingering shyness that always follows him around, he's still got a very contagious laugh.  
After you both calm down, he lets out a long sigh. 
"It's getting really late." 
You cling to what little stubbornness remains. "Yeah?" 
"Are you gonna head home?" 
Again, there's something there. Despite his nonchalant attitude, it's almost like— 
—but you're probably overthinking. Wouldn't be anything new. He has to get some rest, and so do you. The drowsiness repeatedly threatening to tug your eyelids closed is a testament to that. Normally, you'd just pass out on the couch or something, and take off early in the morning; before Mike and Abby wake up. But now, it's different. Now, you actually have to make a choice before your sleepy body makes it for you. 
"Um." You rub your eyes again. "I mean. I could, if it's bothering you—" 
"It's not." 
He interrupts you so quickly that it catches you off-guard. It seemingly catches him off-guard, too, judging by the way he promptly averts his gaze and pretends to care about the guy on the television going on about some sort of plumber strike in the city. 
"Oh." You need a second to process. "Oh, okay. Well, in that case … I don't really think that it'd be safe for me to drive right now." You laugh, a little too airily for it to be completely genuine. "I'd probably fall asleep at the wheel or something." At least that's the truth. "I'll just take the couch. As usual." 
"Okay," he says. He's back to murmuring. 
"And I'll be gone before you eat breakfast." Subconsciously, you're fiddling with the slightly frayed edges of the blanket. It's well-loved. "As usual." 
You think you hear him suck in a breath, seconds before: 
"Why don't you stay?"  
Your own breath stutters in your chest. 
"... what?" Is all you can manage, without horrifically humiliating yourself. 
"I mean," he rushes to correct himself, "you come by sometimes because you want to spend time with Abby— she likes you a lot, you know, sometimes I think she likes you more than she likes me . I think—" He's properly nervous now, his knee bouncing up and down. But he's already continuing before you can get a word in. "I think she'd like you to be here in the morning. And you don't accept pay, anyway. You just— won't." 
His nervousness is spreading to you. "Hey, I—" 
"Why are you here, anyway?" 
The question sounds like it's been a long time coming. He's demanding you now, brow furrowed and eyes sparking with emotion. "Is it out of pity? Do you feel sorry for me? Do you feel sorry for Abby? Because if you do, then— then you can just—" 
"It's not!" You exclaim. 
Immediately, you realize that there's a sleeping girl not too far away, and shamefully lower your voice. 
"... It's not, I promise. I just—" It takes a little while for you to gather the right words, and when you do, you don't drop your gaze from him. All of his previous frustration is all but gone, replaced by a slightly wide-eyed expression that's making your heart ache a little. "I genuinely really like spending time with Abby, okay? She's really sweet, and creative, and just a really great kid. And I—" 
You stop yourself. 
"And you what?" Mike asks, gently. 
Might as well, huh? 
"And I really like spending time with you, too," you admit, finally unable to meet his eyes and focusing on your lap instead. 
There's an incredibly tense beat, in which you swear your life flashes before your eyes. 
Then: 
He's barely audible when he speaks. His knee has stopped bouncing, but he's playing with his thumbs. Clearly, your confession— vague as it was— resonated with him, in some way. You hope he understands what you meant, because you couldn't possibly put it all into words in a way that would make sense. 
"Feeling's mutual," he mutters. 
Your head almost snaps up at that. Maybe you had expected it, deep down— you're not oblivious, duh— but it's one thing to have a hunch, and another to have that hunch proven. And out loud, no less. 
"Yeah?" You dare to ask. 
Slowly, he looks up. He meets your eyes. 
"Yeah," he repeats breathlessly, like the wind's been knocked out of him. 
You let your blanket fall from your shoulders, and it slides all the way onto the floor. 
You reach out. 
He lets you lace your fingers through his. 
Mike's palm is sort of clammy— and he's shaking a little— but he still squeezes your hand. On instinct, you guess. It still makes you smile. He doesn't return it, but his lips are parted a little, and you really, really like that. More than you probably should. You like a lot of things about him more than you probably should. 
You scooch a little closer, and he doesn't move away. You let your gaze drop back down to his lips again, making your intentions clear. Still, you don't know if it's clear enough. You lean in, just barely. 
"... Can I?" 
His reply is almost instantaneous. 
"Please."  
You swallow all of the witty quips you could make, and kiss him instead. 
He's very tentative at first. Like he hasn't done this for a while. But you ease him into it— and before long, he's got one hand on the back of your neck, the other somewhere near your waist. He tastes like coffee and something else you can't really put your finger on. It doesn't really matter, though. Because you are kissing him, damnit! 
His eyes are still shut when you part— with a soft smack — but they flutter open after a second. You're not sure if you're supposed to say something meaningful. Luckily, he leans in instead, and your thoughts are immediately transported elsewhere. 
You kiss like this for a while. It's really nice, and you know he needs it. So do you. 
However— when you start losing track of time, lost in the moment, he makes a noise. 
It's quiet, definitely. But it's nothing like the little hums and sighs he's been making so far. It makes you shift closer, pressing more insistently into him. And he responds, enthusiastically wrapping his arms around you, closing the little distance between your bodies that there was. You can practically feel his heart jackrabbiting in his chest when you slip your tongue past his already kiss-swollen lips. 
He moans.  
You indulge yourself. For a little longer. And Mike chases you when you part. 
"We shouldn't do this in the living room," you whisper, nearly panting. "The couch is a little—" 
"Okay," he whispers back, already sounding wrecked. "Okay." 
You've been in his room before. You've sat on his bed— you've even laid on it before. But you've never straddled him on it before. It's a position that makes your head spin a little, and you occupy yourself with kissing him again. His hands fit perfectly on your hips, but they don't stay there for long, tragically— they trail upwards, up your waist, to your back. To your shoulders, and then back down again. It's as if he just can't get enough. You can't either. You need more. 
So, you tug at his shirt. He gets the message right away— hands scrambling to pull it up and over his head. He's still rather slim, but with a slight softness, mostly located in his midsection. There's a light dusting of dark hair on his chest, as well as the provocative happy trail leading down from his navel. You drag your eyes downward, admiring him, and then decide that you're wearing too much clothing. Your top comes off, dropped onto the floor near his. 
Mike takes more time to admire you when your torso is completely bare. His hands are warm on your bare skin, and slightly rough. Like before, he's hesitant at first, but when you encourage him— either literally or with physical indications— he grows bolder. His stubble scratches gently against you when his lips find your collarbone. 
You squirm a little, not even realizing it— and you feel him. Simultaneously, you both gasp. He's not fully there, but he's at least half-hard— and it can't be comfortable in those jeans. 
"Should I—" 
"Yeah—" 
With steady fingers, you unbutton his fly, and then unzip him. It's a little awkward when he shimmies out of the jeans, and when you wriggle out of your bottoms— you both snicker a little, but he's back to comfortably breathless when you settle back onto his lap. Under normal circumstances, you would tease him again. And yet, you can't bring yourself to. Not right now, at least. 
All you want to do is keep going. 
You roll your hips, testing the waters. His breath audibly hitches, and his hands fly up to settle back on your hips. He looks up at you, eyes already half-lidded— and they close when you grind down again. And again. His lips are clumsier this time when you kiss him, but he still reciprocates all the same. The sensation of him directly underneath you like this is intoxicating. You can feel every little twitch and every little jolt. 
"Fuck," he breathes, long and drawn-out, " God, I can— I can see the spot on your—" 
"Yeah?" You encourage, grinding down again, drinking in his answering groan. "You like that?" 
  "Yes —" 
"You want me to take 'em off?" 
Mike's pupils are blown wide, even though his eyes are already dark as is in the dimness of the room. He nods, once, then twice. "Yes," he murmurs. "Please," he adds, for good measure. 
He stares openly when you get off him, just enough to peel off your last remaining layer of clothing. And when you sit back down, well. It's obvious that you'll have to give him a second. "Can I," he says, finally, "can I touch you?" The way he's looking up at you again is just so sweet, so needy, that you consider saying no. Your throbbing core quickly shuts that idea down. 
"Go on," you encourage. 
He helps you move so he has easier access, and—  
His fingertips find your slit, already wet for him.
"Look what you did to me," you murmur. 
He visibly flushes— and then carefully works one finger into your slick heat. The feeling, combined with his thumb brushing against your clit— it's relief that you've needed this entire time, and you can't help but let a quiet sound escape your lips. It's apparently enough incentive for him to quicken his pace a little. Deliberately, he continues massaging your sensitive nub in a firm but easy pattern as he gently pushes a second finger inside you. 
Mike may be out of practice, but evidently, he still knows what he's doing. He peppers kisses up and down your neck, some more open-mouthed than others. Crooking his fingers, he maintains his diligent rhythm. A thought floats through your mind, unbidden— he must have strong hands, if he's been able to keep up like this—   
Two becomes three, and you're spreading your thighs a little wider for him. He's still transfixed, but speeds up at your urging, breath hot against the divot between your neck and shoulder. You chance a glance down, and you can see the visible outline of him through his boxers. You did that to him. He's desperate— for you. 
"Mike," you gasp, "nnh—" 
"Yeah, c'mon," he mouths, against your neck, "c'mon—" He's not letting up in the slightest, and when you tell him to, he speeds up again. He needs to see you cum just as much as you need to feel it. Your needs and wants are rapidly blending into one. You squeeze your eyes shut, but open them to look at him. His dark curls are a mess, his hand working tirelessly between your legs. 
  "Mike —" 
He says your name in return, like he's the one in the vulnerable position. 
"Mike , 'm gonna— 'm gonna—"  
"Please," his breaths are ragged, debauched, "cum, please, c'mon, lemme see it—" 
"Oh —" 
The tension snaps, and you spasm around his fingers. Your hips twitch, and you moan, your mouth falling open as you ride out your orgasm. You're rising— falling — molten honey pooling in your core, before flowing throughout your body. And Mike keeps going throughout it all, letting you enjoy the sensations until you're fully satisfied. 
Nearly boneless, you sag backward. His fingers, soaked with your glistening release, slip out of your cunt with a wet noise. He doesn't waste any time in bringing them up into his mouth, cleaning them off with his tongue— at the taste of you, he groans, even though it's muffled. Your mind takes a moment to catch up again with the world, but another thought manifests itself— how would he react, if you let him use his mouth on you? How would his head look between your thighs? He would be noisy, wouldn't he? Enthusiastic, pliant, and—
Your desire, although it waned for a short minute, comes back tenfold. But you take one look down again and— you can do that later. Right now, you want him inside you. 
Mike lets you tug him down for another kiss. He lets you feel the worn fabric on his thighs, almost playfully. When you palm him through them— he hisses through his teeth, hypersensitive even though you've barely touched him yet. You're going to fix that, though. Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, you tug them down. 
You were right. He's desperate. As soon as his overheated skin meets the cool air, he lets out another quiet hiss. And when you take him in hand— 
"Mmh —" A firm stroke from base to tip, and you've already got him. He's average in length, but a little girthy. You know he'll be perfect. There's a little drop at the head of his cock, and you resist the urge to lick it off, focusing instead on warming him up a little. He whispers your name, once, when you pump up and down, twisting your wrist. 
"Got a condom?" You ask, stilling for a second. His eyes snap to you. 
"Oh my God, " he quickly mutters under his breath, before raising his volume, "uh, yeah, I think so. Lemme—" And he's already scrambling off the bed, opening the drawers of his nightstand with speed, but somehow simultaneously managing not to make much noise. He rifles through them, but soon emerges victoriously with what he was looking for. It's a little funny, how he doesn't waste any time in ripping it open and tossing the garbage into the mostly-overfull pail near his bed. Hastily, he rolls on the condom. You think he's expecting you to lay back or get up on your hands and knees so he can fuck you like that— you wouldn't be entirely opposed to it— but that's not what you want right now. 
You place your hands on his chest and push him back down so he's sitting against the headboard. He goes without complaint, even shifting when he understands what you want to do. He's flushed almost down to his neck. 
When you sink down on him in a smooth slide, still slick from earlier, you both moan. He sounds strained— he's biting his lower lip, squirming until he finally bottoms out. You have to take a moment to catch your breath, too; the fullness is just how you imagined, but it's so, so much, especially because of your lingering sensitivity. 
"I'm not—" He audibly swallows, hands tightening on your waist when you move just a little, "oh, fuck, I'm not gonna— I'm not gonna last long." He's babbling a little. "You're tight, fuck." 
You rock back and forth, once, and it's enough to force a choked noise from his throat. You watch his face, observing every little twitch, the clenching of his jaw. You can't hesitate for much longer, though— so you begin lifting yourself and dropping yourself down on his cock. Just in little movements at first, so you can get used to the feeling. His eyes squeeze shut— 
"Look at me," you demand, and he does. He doesn't try and thrust up into you when you really start to move. Up and down, up and down, with lewd plaps that accompany your sounds; his grunts—  you swear you hear him whimper .  His eyelashes flutter open and closed, as he struggles to follow your command, wanting to be good. For you. Even though you can see his thighs flexing as he holds everything back. You ride him for all you're worth. 
True to his words, you can tell when he gets close. Maybe he's been on edge this entire time. You thread your fingers through his hair— he buries his face into the crook of your neck, maybe out of embarrassment. You can feel how flushed he is, a thin sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies. Your muscles are aching, but you're determined to make him cum. You're determined to do this for him. 
He says your name, but it's more of a whine. "Please — I'm gonna— I can't — "  
"Go on," you pant, "you can. Don't hold back." Your arms are wrapped around his neck, now, holding him tight; just like his arms around your waist. The contact is almost too much, but somehow it's still not enough, despite him being inside you. "Go on," you repeat, after he whines again, the sound sending white-hot heat straight to your core. "Cum." 
Mike twitches, and you can feel him pulse— the sound he lets out is high-pitched, muffled into your skin. You slow your movements— the aftershocks of his orgasm last longer than yours. It might've been a little while for you, but it had definitely been longer for him. 
He doesn't let go, even after his breathing's slowed down. 
Gently, you pull his head back so you can look at him. He looks up at you with slightly wet eyes. The kisses you press to his cheeks and forehead make him scrunch up his face. 
"Hey," he rasps, "I gotta throw out the condom. Hang on." 
"Yeah, okay." 
When he slips out of you, you both sigh a little. With unsteady fingers, he ties up the condom before chucking it into the pail. 
The sheets are cool on your skin when he pulls them over you both. The room reeks of sex, but both of you are too exhausted to care. When you turn to lay on your side, he's behind you, throwing an arm over your waist. Tugging you closer. Almost absentmindedly, there's a kiss pressed to the back of your head. 
"Thank you," he mumbles. 
You stare at the far wall, unable to close your eyes just yet. 
"For what?" 
"For—" A pause. "For everything, I guess." 
The awkwardness is back. But you let it in. You smile. 
"You're welcome." 
He doesn't respond, but shuffles nearer, chest pressed up against your back. It's not long before you're both fast asleep. 
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alltimefail · 4 months ago
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Hi @netflix and @warnerbrostv! I'd like to talk about the show Supernatural and how its history and legacy can provide some insight on why you should reconsider your decision to end Dead Boy Detectives after one singular season.
Supernatural is undoubtedly one of the most successful television fantasy franchises, but many don't know that it was nearly cancelled after season 2. Thankfully (and luckily) for the network they didn't go through with cancelling the show and by season 4 it was regularly breaking viewership records. A show that was nearly cut short in its prime - much like Dead Boy Detectives - became one of the largest and most recognizable fandoms across social media platforms between the years of 2010 and 2014. The show was so wildly popular that a confession scene between two of its leading characters (Dean and Cas) is STILL used today in a meme format to circulate everything from fandom news to world politics and current events. You can't go to a single comic-con without running into something relating to Supernatural, and ever since its conclusion there has been an opening in the market for a show to take its place.
I can say with absolute certainty that, given the proper time to flourish, Dead Boy Detectives would be the show to fill the spot Supernatural has left behind. It has loads of charm alongside a sensational balance of action, whimsy, heartwrenching character development, and horror. Furthermore it is objectively better with representation than Supernatural was, which is always something embraced in fandom spaces (which are diverse and filled to the brim with queer, neurodivergent, and/or a wide range of people of color).
I also think it's fair to remind you that one of your most popular "Nerd" shows, Stranger Things, is coming to an end after a 10-year-run, leaving behind yet another gap to fill, but this time on your very own platform.
It isn't too late to reconsider the cancellation of Dead Boy Detectives. The fanbase is dedicated and hungry for more, and we know you are currently sitting on finished season 2 scripts, making it impossible for the writers to take this story anywhere else for quite some time. The scripts are there, the cast, crew, and writers love what they do and want to make more... there's simply no reason to not give Dead Boy Detectives the chance it deserves - this time with an entire fandom that wants nothing more than to consume this show, market the hell out of it, and buy merch relating to it (another win for you).
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(Source x)
Oh and did I mention that Steve Yockey was a co-producer on Supernatural as well? You know, that wildly popular show I just told you about that lasted 15 seasons. You are sitting on a golden goose; Steve Yockey and Beth Schwartz, among the other talented writers, cast, and crew, know what they're doing.
Give this show its time and market it well and you will have a hit on your hands. Frankly just based on the steady, continual fandom growth since Dead Boy Detectives' release in April and the vocal outrage over its cancellation just in the last 24 hours, I'd argue you already have a hit on your hands that rivals several shows you currently have on your platform.
Dead Boy Detectives has one of the most active fandoms of the year - do the right thing by them and bring Dead Boy Detectives back. It isn't too late!
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seat-safety-switch · 12 days ago
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Everyone has a strong opinion about how to make the best steak. Do you reverse-sear it? Do you kiss it against a pan? Butter braise? My neighbour down the street hires a group of Hawaiian dancers to rhythmically stomp on his striploin until it is cooked entirely through the waste heat produced by the repetitive impact. Expensive, certainly, but you can't put a price on fine cuisine.
Me? I eat most of my meals courtesy of the 7-Eleven We're Throwing This Out Soon® anti-food-waste program. Sometimes it's pizza. Most of the time it's hot dogs. Every time it's delicious, even though my doctor has noted with some concern the fact that my poop no longer resembles that of an ordinary human being. We're not talking about that right now, though. We're talking about how I prepare steak.
The most important part is getting a good steak. Lots of folks just roll up to the grocery store and hand over like a hundred fucking dollars for whatever Superstore's butcher says is good. Me, I get that very same steak for free when he's forced to throw it out after a few days because of "food safety regulations." Sealed in a bag and everything, dumpster slime washes right off. Still fries up real nice, which is where we come to our next part.
Preparation is also key. You'll see professional chefs salting the shit out of the steak and then throwing it in the fridge for most of the day to let it think about what it's done. This dries out the steak (from crying) and then you can get an extra-nice crisp on it when you finally do get around to introducing it to a heat source. Me, I don't have that kind of time. Or a working refrigerator. What I do have is positively frigid Canadian winters, and a bunch of holes in the floor of my car. The heavily salted roads take care of the rest of it, if you get my drift. Protects the underside and makes a pleasant aroma inside the car when the exhaust leaks on it. I'd keep dumpster meat tied to the underside of my car all winter long, if it weren't for the coyotes and wolverines.
Finally, it's time to cook that steak. Throw that shit right on top of the exhaust manifold, right in that nook over there, and go for a quick rip. Hold your shifts a little bit longer than usual, to really get those headers glowing. Just make sure you don't get into a chase with the police, because they can go for a really long time these days (with all the budget hikes) and you'll end up with an inedible hockey puck at the end when they finally do PIT you into the ditch. We're talking strictly backroads and other places the cops don't go, like the location of active crimes.
If you've followed all these tips, you have an excellent steak on your hands. What about sides, you ask? We'll cover that in the next episode of Cooking With Switch, brought to you by this very same public-access television station the next time I can shoulder-surf the door code off one of the interns.
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mygaynesshasnolimits · 2 months ago
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How to watch UCONN WOMEN'S BASKETBALL GAMES (streams added below)
NOTE: Watching via SNY or FOX, you will need to sign in through a tv provider/cable.
To watch SNY:
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Source: https://sny.tv/info/live-faq
You must be in their broadcasting territory. you can't watch SNY outside of its regional territory, which includes New York, Connecticut, parts of New Jersey, and parts of Pennsylvania.
you must also be an SNY subscriber through a participating TV provider. List of providers: https://sny.tv/watch-now
If you meet these conditions, you're good to go!
To watch on FOX Sports (if you don't have SNY or live outside of tristate area):
Out-of-market fans (those who don't have SNY from tv providers and people who live outside broadcast region meaning other states) you will be able to stream UConn's SNY games at no additional cost to authenticated subscribers who have FOX as part of their television package. Users will need to sign in with their TV provider credentials at https://www.foxsports.com/ or in the FOX Sports app. The games can also be accessed at www.fox.com/sports or in the FOX Now app. Source:https://uconnhuskies.com/watch/search
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Source:
About UCONN+ (website and app)
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Unless noted UCONN+ (web and app) will ONLY have audio. This is because they do not have rights to broadcast games. And to my knowledge they also do not have rights to post replays either. They will live stream post game conferences though (not sure if for all games though.)
For everyone without access to SNY or FOX and international fans:
Theres no hope. lol just kidding. There is some hope. As of now (8am est) I've checked a few popular sports streaming sites(vipbox, methstreams, NBAstreams, sportsurge, crackstream, streameast and some iptv channels for sny) and unfortunately they don't have the game listed on their upcoming events but these sites do sometimes put up links under "basketball" and/or "NCAA" but those links only go up around game time (~30 min before tip off). unfortunately women's college isn't as popular as the men's 🙄 so it's hard to find. If I do find anything, I will post
Edit: stream links
This one has replay available:
Sidenote: please save and use the following uconnwbb's tv schedule to see which networks will air the games throughout the season
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(thank you to the anons that shared the streams)
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souliebird · 1 year ago
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[[and then I met you || ch. 14]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.
pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13
Words: 3.8k
ao3 link
banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen
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A loud, angry voice wakes Minnie from her sleep.
It takes her a few moments to process the change, but once she does, she focuses on finding the source of the bad noise. It's coming from below her, a few floors down. She can't understand the words - Mommy says people speak lots of different languages so this must be one of them - but she knows it is Mister Chavez. He's a nice man who helps Mommy with the trash, sometimes. Minnie likes him.
She lets her ears open up more and quickly finds out why he is so grumpy - he is watching television. She recognizes the sounds as some sort of sport. Mommy says sometimes people yell at their television when watching sports because they love their team and get excited - but they aren't really angry. That makes her feel better - she doesn't like it when people are angry. It's scary.
But he is still being loud, and even though she knows he's not really mad, she doesn't want to hear him. Minnie wants to listen to good noises when she sleeps.
Her favorite noise to sleep to is her Mommy's heart and it can make all the bad noises go away and right now, she wants to be extra close so it's really loud.
So, Minnie reaches up and pulls her sleep headband down so it's around her neck and rolls out of bed.
Mommy went to sleep the same time she did, which is weird because Mommy also took a nap with her after they came back from the park. Mommy doesn't take naps - she's an Adult, but all day she's been sleepy. She doesn't understand why - they didn't do anything Big, like go somewhere special or do lots of things.
Minnie crosses the short distance between her bed and her Mommy's and quickly climbs up the bigger one. Mommy is on her back and under her covers, still asleep. The loud noises don't bother her because she can't hear them like Minnie and Daddy can. That makes Minnie happy - Mommy needs lots of sleep.
But she's hogging all the blankets and Minnie wants to get under them, too, so she shakes her shoulder, “Mommy, share the blankie.”
Nothing happens.
Minnie pouts and shakes her again, just a little harder, “Mommy, I'm cold, too.”
Mommy makes an upset noise in her throat, but she doesn't wake up or give up any of the blanket. Minnie frowns and looks back to her bed - she could get her blanket if Mommy doesn't want to share, but she likes Mommy’s blanket more. It smells like her.
Maybe she can crawl in from the bottom, near Mommy's feet.
As she considers this option, something new catches her attention.
Something smells stinky.
It doesn't smell stinky like the train or the monster her Daddy chased away a few nights ago - she doesn't know this smell, but she quickly decides she doesn't like it. It smells like wet and dirty and it's really close. It is inside the bedroom. She turns to start looking around, trying to find where it is coming from. Nothing in the room looks different and she knows things don't just get stinky. Something has to happen to make it stinky. She closes her eyes and opens her mouth a little like Daddy taught her, and breaths in through her nose. The smell is stronger behind her, so she tries to follow it, crawling closer.
She runs right into Mommy.
The bad smell is coming from her.
Minnie doesn't understand. Mommy never smells bad, ever, and she didn't smell bad before they went to sleep. Why does Mommy smell bad now?
She tries to wake her up again, shaking her shoulder hard, but Mommy just scrunches up her face. She doesn't wake up.
Minnie is starting to get scared.
“Mommy, wake up!” She tries tugging the blanket next, but it is wrapped tight. Her next idea is to start patting her face and that is when Minnie gets her next clue.
Mommy's skin is really warm, like she's been in the sun, and she's sweaty. Did Mommy go outside when Minnie was sleeping?
But that doesn't make sense, the sun isn't up. It's night time and Mommy wouldn't leave her alone during the night. Mommy never leaves her alone - she always has a babysitter.
Why would Mommy be hot and sweaty and stinky and not wake up?
She sticks her fingers in her mouth and starts to suck on them as she thinks hard - like she's trying to figure out a puzzle.
Minnie gasps when she realizes it - Mommy is sick!
Mommy has never been sick before, not that Minnie can remember, and if she's sick, she needs a doctor. Minnie knows how to be a doctor!
No longer as scared now that she knows what is wrong, Minnie slides off the bed and hurries to her toy chest. She has a whole doctor kit full of all sorts of things - it even has a doctor's coat and glasses. She takes the big bag out and sets it on the ground so she can pull out the costume and put it on. She has to push up the sleeves because they are too long, but it doesn't matter.
Now she's Doctor Minnie and can help her Mommy.
She hikes the bag up on her shoulder and brings it back to the bed. It takes her a few tries to get it up beside her Mommy - the bed is high up and the bag is heavy - but once it is, she climbs up too and starts looking through her supplies.
She pulls out the step-scope first and puts the plugs into her ears. She doesn't need it to listen to Mommy's heart, but doctor's do, so she's going to use it. She puts the end-circle on Mommy's chest and listens Hard. Her heart doesn't sound any different than normal. It is a little faster, like she's been walking around a lot, but that isn't weird. Minnie is used to that sound - so it's not why Mommy is sick. She puts her step-scope back into her bag and takes out the next tool.
She knows the little hammer is supposed to be used to hit her Mommy's knees, but they are under the covers, so she isn't sure if it will work. She tries anyway. She bonks where she thinks her knees are and absolutely nothing happens. She isn't surprised - Mommy's head smells stinky, not her legs. That is not why she is sick.
Her next toy is the therm-o-meter. She puts it against her Mommy's forehead and presses the button. The toy lights up, the screen flashing red a few times before becoming solid. She brings it closer to her face to examine. She doesn't know what the numbers mean, but she guesses it says her Mommy is sick.
She turns off that toy then starts digging in the bag again, looking at what she has to help. She finds the band-aids first, which won't help at all. That is for boo-boos and Mommy doesn't have one of those. She finds what she needs at the bottom of the bag and removes it carefully. She doesn't know what it is called but it gives shots - and shots help people not be sick. Mommy told her that - that's why she has to go get them from the doctor.
Shots go in the arm, so Minnie needs to move the blanket out of the way. Mommy wrapped herself up tight, so it is hard, but she manages to pull it enough so her shoulder is out. That is part of the arm, so it counts. She doesn't want to mess up, so Minnie takes her time picking up the shot-giver and pulling back the pusher. She places it in the middle of Mommy's arm, as low as she can get it, then pushes the pusher back down slowly. Once it's all the way down, she sets the toy aside. She remembers that shots do get a band aid, so she takes one out of the box and opens it. It's pink, to match the rest of the set, and it goes over where Minnie gave her Mommy the shot.
To make sure it works extra well, Minnie adds a kiss, then sits back to wait.
She starts sucking on her fingers again, not to help her think, but because it helps her not be scared - and she's scared her Mommy isn't going to wake up. She doesn't know how long she is supposed to wait for medicine to work - when she plays Doctor with her toys it is always right away. But Mommy isn't a toy. She sits and waits for what feels like at least thirty-two minutes before she tries shaking her Mommy again, “Wake up. Mommy, wake up, please. You gotta wake up.”
She doesn't wake up. She doesn't stop being stinky. She stays asleep and sick.
Minnie doesn't like this. She wants her Mommy to wake up and hug her and tell her it is okay. She doesn't understand why she won't wake up.
Minnie gave her a shot - that should have made her better, right?
Does she need to go to the real doctor? She can't go to the real doctor if she is asleep and Minnie doesn't know how to call the doctor to tell him to come.
Minnie sniffles, trying to hold back from crying. She has to be a big girl, she can't be a baby - being a baby won't help Mommy. She wipes at her eyes with the sleeve of her doctor's coat and tries her bestest to think.
What did Mommy say in their last Big Girl Talk?
They talked about what it means to have a Daddy now. Mommy had told her that meant he was like Mommy, but a boy, and anything that Minnie went to her for, she could also talk to Daddy about.
Maybe Daddy can help Mommy, like he helped with the Monster.
But Daddy isn't here. He doesn't live with them.
But maybe he can hear her? He has really good hearing like Minnie does.
With a new plan in mind, Minnie climbs off the bed and leaves the bedroom. The fan and a/c make lots of noise and he might not hear her over them. The living room is quiet, though, and she gets up onto the couch before looking straight up at the ceiling. Daddy was up there last time.
“Daddy?” She asks, “Daddy, are you there?”
She waits, but there is no answer. Maybe she needs to be louder? So, she tries again, speaking in her Outside Voice.
“Daddy, it's Minnie. Daddy? Can you hear me? I need you, please, thank you.”
The only response she gets is the city. It's not as loud as normal, there's not as many cars or people because it's night - people sleep at night. Maybe he is asleep and can't hear her? Or he is too far away and his hearing can't reach her.
If he is too far away to hear with his ears, she has to find another way for him to hear her. Mommy talks to him on her phone when he is far away, so she has to try that next.
Mommy keeps her phone next to her bed, so Minnie goes back into the bedroom. She's not supposed to play with the phone, but this isn't playing - this is an Emergency. She's allowed to use it for emergencies - even though she never has before. She knows how to unlock it - the numbers are her birthday - and the screen lights up. She looks from the bright phone back to her Mommy sleeping on the bed. It's rude to talk on the phone when someone is sleeping, so back out to the living room and the couch she goes.
She settles into the cushions then stares at the phone. She knows how to bring up YouTube but not how to call someone, but she can talk to the phone and tell it what to do. She's done that before and Mommy does it all the time. She just has to say the magic words.
“Hey, Siri, call Daddy, please, thank you.”
The phone lights up as it thinks, then the robot-lady in the phone says, “Uh-oh, I do not have a phone number for Daddy.”
Minnie pouts at the phone - she knows that isn't true. Mommy calls Daddy all the time. Then it occurs to her Mommy doesn't call him Daddy. She has to use his grown up name. She tries again, “Siri, please call Mister Matt, please, thank you.”
“Calling Matt Murdock,” the robot-lady says and a moment later, ringing starts coming through the phone. Minnie quickly holds it up to her ear and waits for him to answer.
He doesn't answer. It just rings and rings until another robot-lady starts talking instead, but Minnie doesn't want to talk to her, so she presses the big red button to end the call.
She doesn't know why he didn't answer. His hearing is extra good, so if he was sleeping, he should have heard it - like Minnie heard Mister Chavez. She tries to think of why he wouldn't answer and decides he must not have his phone - Mommy does that sometimes. She forgets her phone places, like she'll leave it in the bathroom.
Maybe he left his phone in the bathroom.
She makes another attempt, telling the phone again to call her Daddy but nothing changes. Only the robot-lady talks to her.
Minnie glares at the phone as she tries to figure out what to do. Mommy needs a doctor and Daddy isn't answering.
Her conclusion is she needs another Adult. She doesn't know many Adults. She knows Miss Apple, who runs Daycare, and Miss Linda, but Minnie doesn't think she is supposed to call them. Mommy never talks to them on the phone, even if they are Adults.
Daddy's friends are Adults, though, and she heard Miss Karen and Froggy tell Mommy to call if she ever needs anything, so maybe it is okay to call them? Minnie hopes so.
Froggy is Daddy’s bestest friend, so that is who she decides to call. If he doesn't answer, she will call Miss Karen. She wipes at her face again, clearing away any tears, then asks the robot-lady, “Hey Siri, call Froggy, please, thank you.”
The phone starts to ring and, to her great delight and relief, is answered after only a few moments. It sounds like he almost drops it before she can hear him breathing directly into her ear.
“‘lo?” A very tired sounding Froggy asks.
“Froggy!” She tries her best to not yell, but she is so happy he answered the phone and now she can help Mommy. Part of her wants to cry because she is happy, but she still needs to be a Big Girl.
She can hear lots of movement on the other end of the call before he answers her, “Minnie, is that you?” He sounds very Worried.
“Yes,” is her response, because it is her. She knows she is supposed to wait for more questions, but she can't help herself. She does her best to not rush out her words.“I need help, please, thank you. Mommy is sick and she won't wake up and she needs to go to the doctor.”
Froggy says a Bad Word, then, “where are you, Minnie?”
“I'm on the couch. It's rude to talk on the phone when someone is sleeping,�� she explains, then adds, “Mommy is in bed.”
“Okay. Okay. Did you try to call your Daddy?” He asks. She can hear him moving around a lot more now and that makes her happy. He's going to come help her and she doesn't need to be scared. Froggy is an Adult and can take Mommy to the doctor and she can get better.
“He didn't answer. I tried two times and he's not outside. I can't hears him outside,” she tells him. Froggy knows she and Daddy can hear everything, so that is important to let him know that.
“Of course, he didn't answer,” Froggy says, then he says another Bad Word in a grumpy voice, before his voice gets Nice again, “Okay, sweetie, can you listen to me?”
“I'm listening!” She can listen really good and follow directions. She's a Big Girl.
“I'm going to call your Daddy. He has a…different phone he uses at night. I'm going to call that phone and tell him he needs to come over, okay? And I'm going to come over, too,” he explains.
“A different phone…?” She doesn't understand why he would have more than one but maybe it is an Adult thing.
“Yeah, sweetie, a different phone. But to call it, I need to not be on the phone with you. Is that okay?” Froggy asks.
“You're both gonna come?”
“We're both gonna come,” he promises, “I'll keep calling him until he answers, and we're gonna come over and take care of you and your Mommy. Okay?”
Minnie starts to suck on her finger as she thinks over what he said. She wants to stay on the phone with Froggy - she’s scared and she doesn't want to be alone while her Mommy is sick, but he needs to call her Daddy. Mommy needs Daddy more than Minnie needs Froggy. Part of being a Big Girl is being brave when things are scary and she needs to be brave for her Mommy. She drops her hand to her lap and mumbles, “Okay.”
“Okay, Minnie,” Froggy says, then he gets a nice voice again and she can tell he is smiling, “You did a really good job calling me. I'm proud of you.”
The words make her smile, too, and she tells him, “I'm being a Big Girl.”
“Yes, you are,” he agrees, “You are being such a big girl right now. Your Mommy and Daddy are going to be proud, too. Now, I'm going to hang up and call your Daddy. He might get there before me, but I'm on my way, too. If anything happens, you can call me back, and I'll answer. Understand?”
“I understand,” she says, because she does. Froggy will answer his phone if Minnie calls him. Even if it is night time and everyone else is sleeping.
“Okay, good girl. I'm hanging up now, okay?”
“Okay. Bye-bye,” she says because that is how Mommy says to end a call. She lowers the phone from her face and hits the big red button.
She decides to keep the phone with her and slides off the couch, putting it into her doctor's coat pocket.
Now that she has called an Adult to help, Minnie doesn't know what she's supposed to do, but she does know she wants something to hug to make her feel better. She goes back to the bedroom and grabs Pig and Scooby off her bed before squeezing them tightly to her. They are soft and smell like Mommy and Daddy and make things less scary. Everything will be okay if she has them.
She looks over to where Mommy is sleeping and frowns. She hasn't moved at all since Minnie went to try to call Daddy. Minnie sucks on her lip since her hands are busy holding her toys and tries to figure out what to do next, but all she can think about is how sad Mommy looks in bed.
Does Mommy know she's sick and that's why she won't wake up? Is she scared like Minnie is?
Minnie doesn't want her to be scared.
She rocks side to side for a moment as she thinks over how to make her Mommy not be scared, then slowly makes her way to the bed. She sets Pig down in the ground then, with Scooby Doo in her arms, crawls up to be next to her Mommy. With great care, she places him next to the pillow, then leans in to whisper, “Scooby, you need to watch over, Mommy, okay? I gotta go wait for Daddy and Froggy.”
She pats Scooby on his big head before slowly bending over to give her Mommy a kiss on the cheek, “Don't be scared, Mommy, Scooby knows a lot about being brave when you're scared…and he'll keep you safe, okay?”
Mommy doesn't respond.
Her doctor glasses fall off as she slides back to the floor and she knows she should pick them up, but she doesn't. Instead, she picks up Pig and goes back out to the living room. She opens up her ears again as she does - Mister Chavez is still watching his sports but the rest of the building is quiet. Everyone else is sleeping, even the doggies and kitties.
She tries to listen for Daddy and Froggy as she sits down in front of the television. She closes her eyes and remembers what Daddy said about looking for things. She has to Turn Off the sounds she doesn't want, like turning off the television. She squeezes Pig tight to her and tries really really hard.
Daddy isn't an animal, so she can turn off the doggies barking and the rats getting their dinners. There are no birdies or alleycats around to send away.
“Bye-bye,” she mumbles and closes her ears to them. Her little section of the world slowly gets quieter until she's pretty sure there are no more animals left to distract her.
Next is city noises.
There aren't many cars out on her block - just a taxi man listening to music. He's not Daddy, so she says goodbye to him, too, before he goes away. His car disappears around with him, since there is no one else in there with the taxi man.
Her head is really starting to hurt from all the loud noises she hasn't turned off yet. It's making her dizzy because it's coming from all over and it's hard to understand what it all is. Everything is starting to just become one big scream and she can't tell what is what.
“MINNIE!”
She hears her Daddy’s voice through all the other noises loud and clear and she can't be a Big Girl anymore.
She bursts into tears and begins crying loudly.
She doesn't want to be brave anymore. She's scared. She wants her Mommy to wake up and not be sick. She wants to get into bed and cuddle and watch cartoons on the StarkPad.
She wants her Mommy.
She wants her Daddy.
She turns off her ears and sobs and sobs until two strong arms wrap around her and she is crushed into her Daddy's chest. She clings to him, burying her face into his neck and lets him overwhelm her senses until she can't cry anymore.
Little Doctor Minnie passes out from sheer exhaustion, cradled in the arms of the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.
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a/n: everyone tell Doctor Minnie how proud of her you are
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tags:
@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 
 @petrovafire39 @allllium
@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt
@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374
@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 
@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars
@
Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 
@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 
@two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @ astridstark13
 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday
@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos
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calisources · 10 months ago
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𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.
All sentences on this memes are taken from different sources of literature, television and media about enemies to lovers trope and enemies and lovers trope with some angst thrown into the mix. Change pronouns, names and locations as you see fit.
Does it hurt? Loving someone who can’t love you back?
Break his crown, break his throne, rip his monarchy apart.
What are we doing?
You are capable of making my blood boil like no one else, and yet I feel a magnetic pull I cannot explain.
It’s not natural for someone to be as stupid as he is tall, and yet there you stand
Like whether you should kiss me or punch me.
Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It’s disgusting, and I can’t stop.
You make me feel things that shouldn’t exist. 
Whatever this is, we should stop. I have been. . .compromised.
There’s a fine line between love and hate, and maybe we crossed it a long time ago.
I never thought I could detest someone so much, until the day I realized I was falling in love with you.
We may fight like enemies, but deep down, we both know that our hearts beat for each other.
You infuriate me, challenge me, drive me crazy, but damn it, at the end of the day, I can’t resist you.
It’s that tension that makes this so irresistible.
You’re like an addiction I can’t break free from, even if I wanted to.
You’re the thorn in my side, the fire in my veins, and I can’t help but crave your presence in my life.
Loving you feels like a dangerous game.
You infuriate me, yet you’re the only one who truly understands me.
You scare me to my core.
There’s no denying the fire that burns between us.
If any two men desire the same thing, which nevertheless they cannot both enjoy, they become enemies.
I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other.
Tell me you don’t feel this between us. Look at me and don’t look away while saying it.
You claim me your enemy and yet, let me crawl into your bed every night.
You are the bane of my existence, and the object of all my desires.
Do you even know all the ways a lady can be seduced? The things I could teach you.
I did not asked for this. To be plagued by these feelings.
I tried to deny it for so long, but I don’t want to anymore.
Follow me around. Look at me as if you find me fascinating. Touch me, and say nice things to me. And then, you pull away as if you did nothing at all.
There’s no need for these games.
Well, you know that old saying, “Keep your friends close and make out with your enemies.
You read me wrong.  I wasn't trying to lead you on.
Is that all I am to you? A resource to be used in your scheme?
Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything more than you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear all the time. But I just- I can't do it tonight, okay?
 You'll lay a man out for implying I'm a whore, but you keep calling me one to my face.
So, the only man that can have you is one who's already tried to kill you. That's logic.
It's like a little death. Several, in fact.
Oh Max, if you really hated Kyle you couldn't have slept with him.
So go on... kiss me... kill me... Do something.
I've often wondered what this moment would be like. Me... you tied up. 
Once this is over, we should really have angry sex.
Hate and love are not so very different things. Both are focused upon another. Both are intense. Both are passionate.
It just means you'd rather be with someone you hate... than be with me.
She's difficult and irritating, and she tries to hit me all the time.
We have a deal, what are you so afraid of?
Only I can hurt you this way. Only I can kiss you like this. 
You dragged me down and now I can’t quit you. 
This is the last time we do this.
Last night was also the last time. And yet, you keep coming back.
Better my mouth than my knife, right?
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lovemybluebully · 3 months ago
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It's For Science
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This is just a little something I scrounged together, inspired by a post by @snugglyfluffle 😊
https://www.tumblr.com/snugglyfluffle/761535277842022400/since-logan-has-a-shorter-waist-then-wade-does-do?source=share
Damn, writer's block has been a biiiiiitch. I wrote a lot of this in the later hours of the night after my long workdays so sorry if it's nothing spectacular, or if there's any spelling/grammatical errors. 
Wade gets it into his head that maybe not all humans have the same number of rib bones. His logic being that since Logan has a shorter body then he may be an exception. Unfortunately for Logan this is far too ticklish of an experiment for him to bear.
A small bit of ticklish!deadpool at the end too. 😉
Warnings for foul language and other Deadpool-type stuff.
"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse
M/M Tickle Fic
Word Count: 4,234
"The skeletal system is comprised of bones that give structure to the body and work with the muscles and joints to provide movement. The human body contains 206 bones….," the certified doctor on the television explained as he gestured to a replica model human skeleton while Wade sat watching on the couch.
"207 if I'm watching Gossip Girl, hehehe. Shit, I already made that joke in the movie. Well it's still true anyhow, am I right?" Wade snorted a laugh as he turned from his position on the couch with his hand up for a high-five, but found his roommate leaned back in the couch with his eyes closed and his hands on his lap.
It had been a nice lazy afternoon for the two of them and Logan had KO'ed quite a few beers as the monotone voice of the television host was making him doze off.
"Pssht! Old man can't stay awake for five minutes," Wade waved him off as he turned back to the tv.
"The ribcage has an important job in providing protection to some of the most vital organs being the lungs and the heart. There are 12 ribs on each side, making 24 in total…"
The merc blinked in curiosity as he sat up tall and now slowly began to feel up each side of his body to count the ribs within, having to dig in pretty thoroughly to get through the muscle.
"Hmm I'm only feeling 20 here….," he rechecked to be sure, finding all the ones leading up to his collarbone.
"The 11th and 12th pair of ribs are called 'floating ribs' because unlike all the others they are not attached to the sternum but are still attached to the backbone….," the doctor went on as he pointed to two pairs of ribs on the back area of the skeleton.
Wade's hands wound around to his lower back and found the missing pairs right where the doctor said they'd be.
"Huh. What do you know, he's right. I mean, duh!" He bopped himself on the forehead, "Of course he's right. He's a fucking doctor. Hey Wolvie, you're missing some interesting stuff here."
"Mmph," Logan only grunted in response, not even hearing what Wade had actually said as he started to drift further into fully passing out.
Wade then had a thought pop into his mind as he looked over at his near-comatose friend. Logan's torso was a lot shorter than his own so he wondered if it was true that all humans had the same number of ribs. The doc hadn't specified if it was possible to have less and Wade's hyper mind needed an answer right away.
"Hmm. I suppose I could just Google it to find out for sure, but nah! I prefer to do my own field study. Plus you all need a fun little fic to read, and I know Logan won't mind if it tickles just a teensy little bit. Commence Operation How-Many-Ribs-Does-A-Wolverine-Have."
He slid over and wiggled his fingers up in the air before placing them on the bottom of Logan's ribcage, pressing in gently to feel the first two ribs as the man immediately jumped and blinked his eyes open in a groggy daze.
"Whatistha….Wade? What-heheh-What're you doin'?" He batted at Wade's hands with very little accuracy from being half-asleep, giggles escaping him as the fingers moved up to the next set of ribs.
"Well if you had stayed awake Peanut, you would have seen this educational program I've been watching about the human body. They say there are 24 ribs in a human, but I was curious if it applied to all body heights. Being that you're a little shorter than me I wanted to see if you had the same," Wade explained his current lunacy as Logan started to wake up a little more though it took him a moment to really process everything that had been said.
"Huh? The fuck are ya-eheheheehee-Ribs? Course I do, dipshihihit. Now stohahahop it," he was unsuccessful in trying to block out Wade's hands as they continued up his sides.
"I sure will. Once I have verified the facts. Though I'm pretty sure this would go a lot quicker if you would just hold still," Wade smirked big time, knowing there was absolutely no way Logan could ever stay still for something like this when his torso was so ridiculously sensitive, "Okay looks like that's number 5…..and oh, there's 6…."
"How abohohout I c-count your teeheeheeheeth after I knohohock 'em outta your fuhuhuhucking head?" Logan chuckled hard, taking a half-hearted and easily dodge-able swing with his fist towards Wade.
"Don't threaten me with a good time, muffin cakes. Come on, this is a fun game. At least smile, would ya?" Wade teased, looking down at his friend while increasing the speed that his fingers wiggled around against his sides.
The X-man's grin had lit up his normally stoic face while he made many attempts to shove Wade's arms away, but those nimble fingers were practically glued to his sides.
"Of ahahahall the stuhuhuhupid-Eeeheheheheheheh! Stahahahap, ya mohohohoron! Thehehehey're all thehehehere!" Logan was giggling uncontrollably and sinking back into the couch cushions, trying to will his body to phase through and escape but there was only so much give that he was allowed.
Truthfully after the relaxing day he'd had and the keg of beer in his belly he found that he wasn't too bothered about Wade waking him up with his dumb experiment.
"How can I be certain? Got any proof? Any reliable witnesses to corroborate your case? Hmm? Perhaps you have an x-ray of your body to show me? A scientific essay conducted by a world renowned researcher? Any of those would be acceptable."
Logan obviously could only shake his head.
"N-Nohohohohoo, buhut I can cuhuhut myself opehehehen and-ahahahahaa-you cahahahan loohoohook for yoursehehehelf!" He released one claw from his hand as Wade gasped in horror and quickly grabbed his wrist to pin it to the couch with his knee.
"Ohhh no you don't. You're crazy if you think I'm gonna allow my precious little badger to cause himself any harm. Besides my method is way less messy. Just wish I knew why you find it to be so funny," he stated, playing dumb as Logan attempted to growl through his giggles, though the intimidation factor was completely lost.
"Yohohohou f-fucking knohow why I'm lahahahahaughin', ya ihihihihidiot!" He retracted the sharp blade back into his body, trying to squirm free, "Now gehehehet outta thehehehere, ohohor ehehehelse!"
The threats were in full effect, but the claws remained sheathed.
Wade recognized that Logan was in a more light-hearted mood than normal, and he wasn't going to let it go to waste. If he had woken up with murder on his mind then Wade might have been more inclined to back off sooner. But now that he had the green light it was on!
"Or else what? Doesn't seem like you're trying too hard to stop me," he called his bluff and grinned at how the man weakly pulled at his wrists with his one free hand and was trying to curl up in defense.
He knew Logan would be fighting him a lot harder than this if he was really as disagreeable as he wanted him to think.
Actually, Wolverine had a little secret he was keeping. He would die before admitting it out loud, but there were times he found that he actually enjoyed this. Yes, enjoyed getting tickled within an inch of his life.
Definitely not at first though. And to fully grasp the situation we'll have to rewind the story just a…
"Aw nohohoo bub! Thehehey don't neeheed to hehehear all o' thahahat!"
Wade's heart skipped a beat as he gasped in excitement.
"Oh em gee! Your first fourth wall break! I'm so fucking proud of you!"
Shush, we're doing this.
Anyways Logan couldn't remember ever being tickled before so the day Wade had discovered that he was in fact quite ticklish he did everything in his power to fight him off and avoid it altogether. Wade wouldn't back off though and inevitably got him pinned down, even though it resulted in several stab wounds to his head and torso.
Having been alive for over 200 years Logan was very used to experiencing pain of some of the highest levels physically and mentally, but tickling was something very alien to him. Not surprisingly he struggled with processing the maddening, yet gentle touches.
He didn't like to show any signs of weaknesses, but being tickled completely overwhelmed his heightened senses, especially in the touch department, and it was impossible for him to not react to it. There had been feelings of anger and humiliation at how easily simple fingers were able to render him powerless, and it only got worse once he finally broke into agonized laughter.
Logan hated the feeling of not having control, especially over his own body. Once he had managed to break free, he had been extremely cross with Wade and went into one of his brooding moods for the majority of the day.
After giving him time to cool off, Wade eventually approached him to apologize, and Logan shrugged it off now that his temper had died down. Though he had been working on trying to better himself and he explained to Wade what it had made him feel and why he had reacted so strongly against it.
Wolverine being vulnerable enough to share his feelings with him was one of the only times Wade was ever completely serious and really gave his full attention. Despite getting a kick out of always annoying him Wade never wanted to cause him true stress and it made him feel like a real asshole when Logan ended up apologizing to him too.
Wade promised to never do it to him again but added that he just got carried away due to the fact that he really liked seeing Logan not only smile but laugh especially. Logan had become utterly stupefied by that confession. He thought Wade had only been trying to torment and embarrass him, which was what had really set him off.
He had then taken the next few days to reflect on that. He could definitely empathize with how good it felt to see someone you really cared about experiencing joy. Knowing that Wade's intentions were far from malicious had really put his mind at ease about it, realizing that his pride had gotten the better of him.
And the more he thought back on it it really wasn't that bad.
Which was why Wade's squawk of surprise when Logan tackled him from out of nowhere to attack his sides with tickles gave Logan the same fuzzy feeling he assumed Wade had had. Wade not only was laughing from the tickling, but from relief as well, realizing that he'd been unspokenly forgiven.
He didn't even fight it and just let Logan tickle him to his heart's content until finally the man stopped and grunted that he had hoped he'd "learned his lesson" while giving him a small smirk.
Wade was able to read between the lines and took the chance to pounce him the very next day, and despite some growling threats he received the older mutant didn't seem entirely displeased. Logan had completely let his guard down, which now enabled him to truly experience it in full.
Still, he made Wade work for it before he finally stopped holding in his laughter. The crazy merc then proceeded to make him laugh harder than he could ever remember doing in his past, and he found the brain chemical effects from that to do wonders for his mood.
The funny thing about it to Logan was that even though he was rendered helpless from tickling he realized that he was still 100% safe, and he found that to be a very comforting thought. It was a new experience for him to be in such a close proximity struggle where the end goal wasn't to try to hurt or kill him.
Sure, Wade would use tickling as a form of retaliation a lot of times, but it was all the same to Logan by now. Naturally he wasn't always in the mood for a tickle attack, but these days more often than not he didn't fight it too much and was quite content to let his roommate turn him into a squirming, wheezing wreck.
Of course, for appearances sake, Logan would still curse his head off and threaten the man's life at every turn. Up until the mischievous merc would tickle him to the point he could barely take it and turn that macho attitude into desperate pleas for mercy.
Which brings us back to our current situation.
"Dahahammit! I-I dihihihidn't ahahask for a wahahahaake up cahahahall!"
"No thanks needed! It's totally complimentary in el Casa de Wade. But don't mind me, feel free to go back to sleep. I'm just going to keep counting these ribs here until we get to the bottom of this. Ah, finally we found 7 and 8."
Wade was still acting as if this whole idea was just to count his ribs and hadn't even acknowledged that he was purposely tickling him and realizing that made Logan feel even more giddy as he let out a snort and shook his head.
"Wade c'mooon! Get ohohohoff! Ya-heehehehe-Ya know I'm ticklihihihihish, fucker!" His big-muscled arms were clamped so tightly against his sides, but there was no stopping the determined fingers crawling up his ribs.
"Whaaa? Wolverine? Ticklish? Ha! That's absurd! My guy Logan is way too mean and strong and tough to be affected by something so childish! Oh boy, and I thought I was the king of jokes around here. Now come on, stop messing around and just move your arms out of the way so I can finish this," Wade smirked, loving to tease him about his ticklishness in regard to his hard-core reputation.
"You fuhuhuhucking ahahahasshohohohole!" Logan snorted hard and now fell over to the side as he began scooting along the couch to get away.
"Heheh, where do you think you're going? Stop being so dramatic, Nancy Kerrigan. It's okay to make that joke now, right? 30 years later is fair," he shrugged at the camera, not letting up one bit as he followed along with his squirming prey, "I can feel 9 and 10 now. We're almost halfway there! Oooh! How exciting!"
"Cuhuhut it ohohohout! Heeheheheheheheh! Juhuhust drohop this stuhuhupid ideheeheeheea!"
The higher Wade went the stronger the tickling sensations felt, and Logan was pretty sure he was going to die before the last of his ribs were even reached, though in his mind it honestly wasn't the worst way for him to go.
"🎵 Ohhhh the itsy-bitsy spiders crawled up the waterspout….🎵," Wade effortlessly sing-songed with clawed fingers continuing their torturously slow progress, thoroughly scraping over every rib bone they came across, "🎵 Down came the rain….but couldn't wash the spiders out because they were having too much fun counting all these cute little ribbies. 🎵."
It always made Logan feel silly whenever Wade's teases took on a more juvenile form. He was the tenacious and deadly Wolverine and yet Wade was treating him like he was just some harmless little kid. He was never able to stop the blush from spreading across his face.
"Shuhuhuhuut uhuhuhup! Ohohor you're gohohonna haahahave another fuhuhuhuckin'-Hahahahahahehee-hohohohole t-to breheeheeheeathe outta yohohour fahahahat hehehehead!"
"Wow. We're body shaming now? I'm very sensitive about my fat head, you know. Well have you looked in the mirror lately, mister? Just walking around with those big, sexy arms and your handsomely chiseled jawline, and don't even get me started on all that sculpted beef that you're hiding in disgrace underneath this shirt. Yeah, doesn't feel so good now, does it, you absurdly attractive man? Uh huh….oh….yup, right there we got 11 and 12."
Wade was just so ridiculous sometimes, but when Logan was already caught in a laughing fit the merc's unstoppable blabbering only succeeded in making him laugh even harder. And unfortunately, he was slowly losing his will to carry on with acting tough through this tickle session.
"Fihihihiiine! I'm-heeheehehahahahaha-I'm sorrrrry! I tahahahake it bahahahaack! Just stooohohohoooop!" Logan didn't know how much more he could take of this. Actually, he did know due to having suffered under Wade's fingers for months now, and the answer was a lot.
"Why? I'm just trying to get a count here. 13……14…..It's for science. Hey look, I'm sorry……," Wade pretended to show some remorse before breaking into a huge smirk, "Sorry my wittle Wolvie-polvie is too freakin' ticklish for his own good!"
Logan's back finally met the armrest of the couch, preventing him from going any further as he leaned back over it to try to get away. Though this now had his ribcage fully stretched out as Wade stepped it up and dug his fingers in mercilessly between rib bones, making Logan positively howl in laughter.
"Ahahahahaa! Wade naahahahahahahaho! Pleheheease! Thahahahaat tickles!" He thrashed madly trying to wiggle away, but Wade had him pinned right where he wanted him as he just snickered at the situation.
"I think at this point you know that was part of my plan all along. Hehehe, but we're so close! Think of the prestige we'll get from this scientific breakthrough! Oh! I think I just found 15! Oooh! And could that be 16?! C'mon, buddy! Bear with me now!"
The upper ribs were basically in Logan's armpits that were covered with a more fleshy layer and Wade was really having to probe in there to actually feel the bones beneath.
"Not thehehehere! Noohot thehehehehehehhehehere! Haahahahaheeheeheeheehaa! Mehehehehercyyyyyy! Logan squealed helplessly with his head tilted back and showing off his elongated canine teeth; his face as red as a tomato as tears squeezed out of his tightly shut eyes.
The feral man's t-shirt had ridden up, exposing the lower half of his ripped stomach and Wade was currently in a position where it was at eye level. He smirked as he thought about how crazy Logan got whenever he would blow raspberries into his tummy, and he found the urge to do so was just too strong to resist as he took a deep breath.
"WAAAHahAHaHAhaHAHAAADE!!" Logan screamed with the first oral assault landing directly around his navel, breaking into silent laughter while wheezing desperately for air. Many more blows were delivered to his belly and ribs while the fingers continued tickling in his armpits as Logan summoned up any energy he had left and pushed with all he had in him at Wade's head and shoulders.
Eventually after being slapped and punched in the head so many times, Wade finally allowed himself to be pushed away, taking one last nibble at his hip bone.
"Geez, calm down Hugh, you over actor," he chuckled as he looked down at the man who was currently swallowing all the air he could and gingerly wiping away at tears.
"Okaaahaahay…..Fuckin' Hell……That's it…..for nohohow…..Y-You got me…..good……No more….right?"
"Weeeeeell if you would have just stayed still, we could have had this all over with. But noooooo, you just had to make me lose count," Wade sighed loudly in feigned disappointment, "Looks like I'm gonna have to start aaaallllllll over again."
With a wicked grin he began reaching out towards the still incapacitated man who was now shaking his head frantically as his hands raised in defense.
"N-No Wade. Not again. Stay back. Heehehehe-please. I can't take any more," he couldn't help giggling in anticipation as Wade hovered over him again.
"Hold still now…Don't worry Peanut, we'll get through this together. So that's 1……and 2…….and a coochie coochie coo…," Wade started again on his waist to get at his bottom ribs as Logan was already breaking into squeals.
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"20?! Again?! For real?! I've counted three times already!"
Logan was hanging halfway off the couch; his hair sticking out in every direction and his cheeks slicked with tears as he coughed and tried to regain any hint of sanity he had left.
"It's……It's……fine…….Wade…..I'm sure……..they're in……there……somewhere……," he panted weakly, slowly starting to feel his energy revitalize.
"Or maybe you really do only have 20? My theory that you have fewer since you are shorter may be correct!" Wade was getting lost in his thoughts, but then at that moment a voice of reason sounded off.
"And remember, the 11th and 12th pair of ribs are referred to as 'floating ribs' and are only attached at the backbone….," the television was still on and by this point the doctor had gone back around and was summarizing everything he had just talked about.
The light bulb finally went on in Wade's head.
"Oh yeeeeah……forgot about those little buggers," Wade slowly turned to look at his friend whose eyes went wide as he scrambled to get away.
Five seconds later and Wade had Logan pinned on his stomach as his fingers wiggled into his lower back to find the missing rib pairs while Logan cackled wildly and pounded his fists with his feet uselessly kicking at the cushions.
"23…..and 24! Well would you look at that! I guess all humans are the same after all!" Wade declared happily as he finally climbed off of his roommate, signaling the end of his reign of terror, "Whaddya think, Wolvie? Aren't you so glad to have that useful little tidbit of information at your disposal?"
Logan gradually rolled over onto his back and raised an annoyed brow.
"Could've just fuckin' Googled it, bub," he growled, though a smile was still stuck on his face.
"Okay I admit waking you up may not have been the nicest way to go about it, but you know how impatient I am. And be honest, you really don't seem that upset about it," Wade grinned, reaching over to scribble fingers over his now exposed stomach while Logan snorted chuckles and tried to block him out with his knees before rolling away.
"You're lucky I didn't piss my pants, asshole. Drank a shit load of beers right before I fell asleep. I gotta piss like a fucking racehorse now," Logan stumbled to his feet and walked off to use the bathroom.
Wade grinned as he watched him walk away before turning to the audience.
"He's cute, ain't he? And I didn't hear any denial in that, did you? He doesn't know that I heard the author spill his secret earlier. It's nice to know that he actually enjoys it, even if he won't say it. I'm totally good with that."
The sound of Logan groaning in relief echoed down the hallway followed by the toilet flushing several moments later before he walked back out to join Wade on the couch.
"Did you make sure to put the seat back down? Althea won't be happy if she falls in again," he asked as Logan looked at him with a frown.
"That one was on you, shithead. I always remember to. You've lived how many years with this poor lady? I seriously don't know how she's put up with your stupid, inconsiderate ass for so long."
"Exactly the same way you do, sugar tits," Wade grinned and pinched his cheek, receiving an adamantium elbow into his side and grunting as the air was knocked out of him momentarily.
"It's a daily struggle that's for sure. But I owe ya a lot for breaking me out of my destructive cycle, so we'll call it even," Logan had softened his demeanor, knowing he truly owed Wade his gratitude as the other man noted this and took advantage of his guard being down.
"Awww there it is! Right there! I knew you loved me!" Wade squealed as he jumped onto Logan's lap and wrapped his arms around his head in the tightest of hugs.
"Gaah! Wade! Fuckin' dammit! Let go of me!" Logan struggled to pry Wade off of him until he was hit with a moment of inspiration as he latched his fingers onto Wade's unprotected sides to start tickling him with everything he had.
"Aahaahahah! Logan dohohohohooot! Thahahahat's nohohohot fahahahaaair!" Wade yelped with giggles as he quickly tried to escape, but Logan held him firmly in place.
"Fair? Okay, let's be fair. See we learned that all my ribs are there, but seems we've overlooked yours. Think it's best we check that out right away, don't you?" Logan asked with a crooked grin as Wade frantically shook his head while thrashing in his lap, "No? Well ain't that just too damn bad."
Logan dug right in with both strong hands, not even hiding the fact that his mission was to tickle the absolute shit out of his roommate.
"Okaahahahay yohohou cahahan cheheheck! Heheehhehahah! Juhuhust nohoho tihihihickling!"
"Now how do ya expect me to do that? You got an x-ray or some bullshit to show me? A fuckin' thesis paper on the matter? What? Ya don't? Well that fuckin' sucks for you. Looks like we're doing this the old-fashioned way. What number was I on? Oh yeah….1…….1…….1……1 again….."
"Cahahahahaaan't you fuhuhucking cohohount, you neahahahanderthal?!?!"
Logan smirked big time, repeatedly prodding into the same rib over and over.
"Guess not. Numbers apparently aren't my strong suit. Looks like this is gonna take alllll day then."
Wade could only laugh and squeal in response, knowing he had sealed his own doom.
186 notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 2 years ago
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Hi, love your work. Could you please write a Lando Norris x engineer!reader thank you 🥰
team bonding | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x engineer!reader
people start to notice the chemistry between lando and his race engineer
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 11,067 others
tagged: yourbff
yourusername: life between races ✨
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lilaclando part time race enginner full time mother
landonorris so where was my karaoke invite?
yourusername you'd really come all the way from monaco to do karaoke with my uni friends ???
landonorris duh
mclarenlover he's so in love you can't tell me otherwise
oscarpiastri the real question is what song did you sing?
yourusername man i feel like a women obviously
oscarpiastri taste as always
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landonorris
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liked by yourusername, estebanocon and 601,843 others
landonorris: what happens at the monaco after party stays at the monaco after party
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babynorris i did not know lando was friends with mick and este but i am living for this
estebanocon the best nights are the ones you don't remember
mickschumacher where is dj lando?
lando4ever are we all just collectively ignoring the girl in the last slide?
leclerc16x call me delusional but that looks like his race engineer
landonorizzzzz ur delusional (i hope you're right)
f1wagsupdates
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tagged: yourusername
f1wagsupdates: in his most recent post lando norris included a picture of a girl many believe to be his race engineer y/n y/ln. she's worked with lando for just over a year and are a beloved duo in f1, with their radio conversations being a huge source of entertainment. what do you think of this potential couple: cute or unprofessional?
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babygirllando i think it would be cute... i mean we've all heard the radios... the one when lando crashed... she was so stressed
maxyverstappen i mean that's kinda her job?
kittyrussell as much as i would love this couple, they work together like HR violation ???
norrisszn maybe the issue here is y'all assuming everything all the time ? they're clearly friends? i didn't know you couldn't party with your friends
LN4 literally people assume shit every time and cause the issues
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f1
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liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 421,077 others
tagged: landonorris
f1: lando norris is back on the podium in austria after some quick thinking from his race engineer y/n y/ln helped the brit undercut the alpines to take third!
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landonorris your fave duo tearing it up
yourusername we slayed 💅
glitterlando I DON'T CARE WHAT THAT RAT STEINER SAYS THEY’RE CUTE AND PROFESSIONAL
planetdannyric this is what you get steiner - double haas dnf and y/n being a big component of lando's podium KARMA
danielricciardo team work makes the dream work !! happy for you two 🏆
hugsforlando danny being a landoy/n shipper so true of him
landonorris
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 531,778 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: after the last couple weeks, y/n has been subject to the most ridiculous and disgusting ridicule from people from within our own sport. y/n y/ln is one of the most talented individuals in f1 and i am forever grateful that she is on my team! i think we all saw how important she is to my success, so appreciation post for my rock! x
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howdyricciardo god they are so cute whether they're a couple or just friends
yourusername awwww thank you lando i don't care what they say we continue to slay
landonorris lets fucking go
flowersforlando i need this couple to happen fuck steiner
smoooooothoperator no cause power couple for real
yourusername
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yourusername: don't let any man tell you that you can't do it
p.s. slagging off your drivers in your book and on national television is more unprofessional than anything i could ever do
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mickschumacher ❤️
danielricciardo as the children say - mother
landonorris forever proud of you y/n
yourusername thank you landinho
maxverstappen1 let's gooooooooo
carlossainz55 tell them !!
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landonorris
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landonorris: what if i told you i don't care, our team chemistry is unmatched
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yourusername not exactly how i thought we were going to do this but i love you silly ❤️
landonorris i love you more
danielricciardo so it is true !!! was about to ask you if you finally grew some balls and asked
landonorris dude don't out me on main
lewishamilton so so happy for you guys !!
yoursricciardo omg parents
lovelylando they make me believe in love for real
yourusername
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tagged: landonorris
yourusername: i'd take all the shit in the world to stay with you ❤️
p.s. let's get that win baby
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violetleclerc i will be seated for lando's maiden win and y/n excellence
landonorris i love you so much (and the win is coming, i can feel it)
yourusername you'll get what you deserve in due time
maxverstappen1 does the camera man not get a shout out?
yourusername thank you for being our personal photographer, not my fault you tackle my phone out of my hands whenever i try to take a pic of you :/
note: hope you enjoyed, i'm finally getting through the requests !! xx
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incorrectlooneytunesquotes · 4 months ago
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Bugs: CUE!
Daffy: I haven't read the sthcript! I don't know what today's show...
[an anvil is dropped on Daffy]
Daffy: ...is about.
Bugs: [Laughing] It's about priorities!
Daffy Priorities, huh? Yah. Well, I think that from now on, my highethst priority in life is, never again to sthay "I don't know".
[Daffy is hit with an anvil again]
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Conversation
[Execution scene from a period movie...]
Ryo: Ready, aim...
Soldier: Wait a minute, wait a minute, stop the execution!
Ryo: (gets pissed) What is it this time?!
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wannaeatramyeon · 6 months ago
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The Crew Heads with Reader: Board Games
G/N. Silly. 4 small scenes. (Jake Kim, Eli Jang, Johan Seong, Samuel Seo)
Bro Code | Dinner | Shopping | Television | Gacha | Board Games | Suits
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"What the fuck?" Samuel glares at Johan who returns it with equal hostility.
"It's a word." Johan spits, arms crossed and defiant.
"Use it in a sentence."
"I'm going to kilp you."
"Johan will kilp you," Jake chimes in.
"Samuel will be kilped by Johan," Eli adds.
"Almost," you say, "But Johan I don't think that's a word-"
"3 to 2, overruled!" Jake grins, totting up the points from the Scrabble board. "Ok so that's triple word score too for God Dog. Fuck... he's in the lead."
.
.
"I just said you can't play a +2 on top of a +2 card!" Jake moans, looking at the stack of cards in the middle.
"Says who?" Johan asks, because that rule is stupid
"It sounds like bullshit but-," Eli scrolls on his phone, looking for a source. "Uno officially. The cards can't stack."
You lean over his shoulder, read the rule with your own eyes but disregard it anyway. "The fuck do they know."
"5 to 0, draw your cards asshole." Samuel leans back, smug when Jake add another 6 cards to his hand.
.
.
"You're cheating!" You screech as Jake freezes like a deer caught in headlights.
"No I didn't!" He holds up both hands in surrender. He absolutely did not cheat.
"You grabbed an extra 100 won, I saw you!"
"I didn't!" Jake protests his innocence.
"I saw him too," Eli says as Johan and Samuel both nod vigorously.
"What, owning most of the properties on the board isn't enough for you?" You say, jabbing a finger in Jake's chest. "And now you're cheating?!"
"But I didn't-"
"I don't want to play anymore!" You throw your cash in the air, standing up and stepping over the Monopoly board as the rest of the guys follow suit.
"But... I didn't." Jake mutters, looking at the mess of cash around him.
Ok. So he didn't cheat. In fact, you know for certain that everyone else did. It's just expected with a game like Monopoly. No-one becomes rich fairly with capitalism.
Poor Jake however, did play fair and square, ended up lucky with the community chest and chance cards which led to him owning the majority of the properties.
All of you, getting more pissed off by the minute but not wanting to admit defeat, slithered your way out of it by accusing Jake and throwing him to the wolves.
You promise to make it up to him, somehow. But you are not losing at Monopoly.
.
.
"Are you blind?" Johan growls when Samuel's hand comes down on the 9 that landed on top of the 6.
"Fuck off," he mutters, retreating and putting his own card down - an 8.
"I think Snap might not be for Samuel," Eli grins, placing a King face up, as Jake agrees that Math isn't Sammy's strong suit.
"Easy mistake," you shrug, rising to his defence. You have definitely done something similar many times. Not with these guys though.
You've never played Snap, that simple card game, with them. For good reason-
"Snap!" Jake shouts, hand slamming down after he places another King on top of Eli's.
The table legs creak, then with a sickening crash, collapses under the force of his power. The four crew heads and you are left sitting around a mess of splintered wood, spilled drinks and ruined cards.
"Oops."
Samuel rolls his eyes. "Well done, moron."
-And that's why you don't play Snap.
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therand0mwriter · 11 months ago
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Bare Your Soul
Alastor Hartfelt x Female!Reader
When the Hazbin Hotels second, more appropriate, commercial was interrupted by the news, Alastor decided to air his original, sarcastic, commercial. What no one expected was for the commercial to actually work.
"ɨ… աǟռȶ ȶօ… ɢɛȶ ȶօ ӄռօա ʏօʊ."
"𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽?"
Chapter 1 - The Hazbin Hotel
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[Unedited]
[Update 02.08.24 - since I've had a lot of people come to me, pissed about the fact that I made Alastor's last name Altruist (even though I thought it sounded catchy), I changed it to Hartfelt. Yes, I know his last name isn't confirmed yet, but Hartfelt is the closest thing we'll come to a last name.]
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[A/N: (h/c)=hair color, (h/l)=hair length, (h/t)=hair type (wavy, straight, curly, etc.)]
[2nd A/N: When I put (s/c) and (e/c) you can do what ever color you want, you're a demon in this story, have fun with it:)]
*3rd Person POV*
Charlie came back from the meeting with Adam and was feeling down on her luck. She had no idea on how to tell everyone that Extermination Day was now sooner than they expected. But when her girlfriend, Vaggie, came bounding up to her and told her that everyone at the hotel had made a new commercial, her heart swelled and her eyes teared up.
Charlie and Vaggie joined the group in the main area to watch the commercial, but was sorely disappointed when it was interrupted by the news announcing that Extermination Day was pushed up by six months.
Alastor, on the other hand, seized the opportunity. "Well, my dear," He started, standing and turning to Charlie. "I could always air my original commercial. Now that the announcement of Hell's newest problem is out of the way, I'm sure it won't be interrupted by anything. I'll even broadcast it from my radio tower!" He ended with a flourish of his staff.
Vaggie then stood, standing in front of Charlie, "Hold on, can't we just re-air the better commercial?" Alastor's already large grin widened, "I'm afraid not, dear. The agreement was to only show it once!" The one-eyed girl let out an 'ugh', face palming. Charlie stood next to Vaggie and begrudgingly started, "Well, I guess that's all we can do. Go ahead, Alastor."
"Wonderful!" The radio demon shouted before disappearing into his shadow. "Maybe it'll convince someone to come here?" Charlie said to Vaggie, a sheepish grin on her face.
*Time Skip, Next Day*
Everyone at the Hazbin Hotel just finished watching Alastor's original commercial, Alastor's grin more joyous than usual, Vaggie's eye was twitching wildly, Charlie was grimacing, and everyone else had looks of surprise. "I really hope nobody saw that." Vaggie commented, distaste clear in her voice.
*Meanwhile*
In a dark room, where the only source of light was the television, sat a lone woman. She watched with wide (e/c) eyes as a commercial out of place from the other ones started to play.
"Well, hello there you wayward sinner! Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do! That's why you're in Hell! But what would you say if I told you there was a place to stay that had none of that? Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, a misguided path to redemption! Founded five days ago by Lucifer's delusional daughter: Charlotte Morningstar! Come place your fate in her inexperienced hands as she tries to work through her  daddy issues by fixing you! Here, we offer fun things! Such as, somewhat functional staff! And 24 hour pest control. Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor! Enjoy riveting conversation with our singular resident. Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel! Your last desperate attempt at salvation starts here."
The woman muted the TV after the commercial ended, still staring with wide eyes as she processed what she just watched. Eventually, she started to giggle. Then that giggling turned into full blow boisterous laughing. She placed her hand on her forehead, shaking her head until she calmed down. Once she did, she let out a tired sigh, her shoulders drooping. "This might be my only chance." The woman said forlornly, turning off the TV, enveloping the room in darkness.
*Time Skip, Next Day*
At the hotel, Charlie was pacing back and forth as her cat, KeeKee, was also pacing with her, swerving in and out of Charlies moving legs. "Okay! So the extermination is coming in six months instead of a year. No big deal! Just a little setback! Nothing we can't handle." At this point in Charlies rambling, KeeKee had run off, most likely finding a place to sleep. Charlie continued her worried rambling, "Just Angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right?! And next time when they cut the time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!" 
Vaggie came up to her girlfriend and placed her hands on Charlie's shoulders, stopping her in her tracks and her panicked rant, "Yes, we will." Vaggie sent Charlie a comforting smile, but that smile was gone when Angel spoke up, "Oh, please. Ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit. And now," Angel paused, looking down to his phone to see multiple text messages from his boss, Valentino. "Ain't no silver lining this time, toots."
"Sure there is. We just have to look a little harder for it." Charlie responded, a hopeful smile on her face. "Well, while you're lookin', the rest of Hell is going nuts." Angel stated, turning his phone to Charlie to show multiple news headlines. "People are already freaking out about the news. Look at what's happening in the Doomsday District."
When Charlie leaned forward to look at Angel's phone, a text message popped up. "Uh, what is a 'donkey show'?" She questioned, her red eyes squinted in confusion. Angel's eyes went wide and he quickly brought his phone back to him, "Ah! Eh, nothing! My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news, too. Like I said, everyone's losing their shit."
"Yeah," Vaggie started. "That's true. Sinners are desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape the extermination?" Charlie gasped, a smile growing on her face once more, "This is the prefect time to recruit more sinners for the hotel!" She ended, throwing her arms up in the air in excitement. "Cute idea and all, but you really going to go out in all of this?" Angel questioned, turning his phone to the two women to show a fire and demons screaming in fear. 
"Well, it's not like people are just going to show up on our doorstep." Charlie said and immediately after a loud explosion sounded, causing the girl to shout in surprise. The three turn to see a hole in the wall next to the bar. They then heard a dramatic voice come from outside, "Show yourself, Alastor! Come and face-" The voice, Sir Pentious, paused, looking from the hole in the wall to the balcony above it from his ship. There, sat Alastor, drinking from a mug that said 'OH DEER' on it. "Oh, there you are. Face my wrath!" Pentious continued. Alastor took a sip from his mug before turning back to the snake demon, "Who are you?"
"Who am I? Who am I? I am the great Sir Pentious! Inventor, architect of destruction, villain extraordinaire!" Said demon boasted as Alastor went into his shadow, moving to stand next to Charlie, Vaggie and Angel who had come outside to see the cause of disturbance. One of Sir Pentious Egg Boi's turned to him, "Woo! You tell 'em, boss." 
Niffty had also came out from the hotel, climbing up Alastor's back and gasping with excitement, "Ooo! He's a bad boy." Alastor reached behind him and took ahold of Niffty by her scruff, placing her on the ground, "Huh, well if all that's true, you'd think I'd have heard of you." Pentious eyes were wide with disbelief, "I attacked you literally last week." The Radio demon tilted his head in confusion, a static hum coming from him. "We've done battle, like... 20 times?" Pentious explained, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Well, you must have been really bad at this." Alastor said, a smug tone in his voice.
"Silence! Now cower!" The snake demon shouted. "For when I've slain you, the almighty Vee's will finally acknowledge me as their equal!" Niffty had climbed back onto Alastor's back, gasping in excitement once more. She then paused, "Wait, who are the Vee's?" Alastor waved them off, "Oh, nobody important. Now, let's deal with the nobody in front of us." The Radio demon chuckled darkly, static sounding from him as giant black tentacle came from the ground, wrapping around Sir Pentious ship, shaking it.
One of the tentacles smashed into the cockpit, causing Pentious to shout in fear, "Ahh! Please! Stop!" Alastor chuckled at the sight in front of him, his chuckling turning into manic laughter. "Um, Alastor?" Charlie called out, "I think he's had enough." Angel grinned, "Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im."
The tentacles tilted the ship to where Pentious fell out of the cockpit and onto the cement with a crack. "Thanks for another forgettable experience." Alastor said, twirling his staff then leaning on it. Pentious slowly lifted one of his arms and slowly spoke, "Thank... you..." He then propped himself up, "For letting your guard down!" He quickly shot his tail out, taking ahold of the corner of Alastor's coat, ripping the edge off. "Haha! Yah!" Pentious shouted with glee, but immediately cowered as Alastor growled with anger, his antlers growing. "Oh, shit!" Pentious said before he was blasted off. He let out a scream of pain as green smoke followed him through the air as he flew.
When Pentious was out of view, Alastor turned to the three behind him, "Well, it looks as though I need a visit to the tailor. Best of luck, chums!" He turned back around, waving goodbye. Vaggie then stepped forward, "Wait, you're leaving? Alastor, we need your help. We need you to do your job." She stated. Angel added, gesturing to the large hole, "We need a wall." The Radio demon turned back to them, 'Of course! Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?" Alastor snapped his fingers, causing six black and white demons to appear from the ground as he walked away.
Angel giggled, pushing Vaggie out of his way as he made his way up to the largest black and white demon. "Hey, sweet cheeks." Angel started in a sultry tone, leaning one of his four arms on the demons shoulder. "What you doing later? I love me a man with a giant..." Angel pause, looking down at the demons crotch. "Tool." The spider demon finished. 
"Um, am I interrupting?" A new voice started. Charlie, Vaggie and Angel look to their left to see a female demon they've never met before. Her hair was (h/l), (h/c) and (h/t), her clear skin was (s/c), and her eyes were a brilliant shade of (e/c). On top of her head was a set of antlers that were decorated in little colorful flowers. The antlers went up and curled into each other, forming the shape of a heart. Also on the top of her head was a set of fluffy (h/c) ears, similar to a deer.
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[A/N: Something like this for your antlers. Image does not belong to me.]
"Wow! You look a lot like Alastor!" Charlie said, slightly amazed. The new female raised her eyebrow in confusion, "I'm sorry, who?" Vaggie then stepped in, a cautious tone to her voice, "Um, the Radio demon? You're not related to him, are you?" The new females eyes widened with realization, "Oh! Yes, I've heard of him. Don't worry, we aren't related. Are we that similar?"
Angel went and stood with Charlie and Vaggie, leaving the six black and white demons to do their job. "It's just the antlers and ears y'all got in common." Angel added. The female nodded in understanding and Charlie took a step towards her, a warm smile on her face, "So, what can we help you with?"
"Oh! Yeah!" The she-demons eyes went wide once more, remembering why she was there. She then became nervous, her hold on her suitcase, that the three others just noticed, tightened. "Uh, I saw your guys commercial. About the hotel. And I want to join, if that's okay?" With each word the female spoke, Charlie's grin grew wider and wider until she finally burst.
"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!" Charlie jumped up and down in excitement, running forward to take the she-demons hands in hers. "Yes, yes, yes! Of course you can stay here! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! We're going to help you get to Heaven! My names Charlie!" The said demon introduced, vigorously shaking the new females' hands. The blonde then stood next to the new she-demon, gesturing to Vaggie and Angel, "That's Vaggie, my girlfriend! And that's Angel Dust! Our other resident!" The two waved a greeting to the new girl, but before she could return it, Charlie was already pulling her inside.
"Here's our bartender, Husk! And over here we have Niffty! She does our cleaning! Oh! And these are my pets! Razzle, Dazzle and KeeKee! Oh! Let me show you all of the floors, the kitchen, the bathrooms-" Vaggie then stepped in front of Charlie, placing her hands on her girlfriends shoulder, "Charlie! Honey, we don't need to show her everything all at once. Take a breath and let her breath." And Charlie did just that, both her and Vaggie turning back to the new female.
"I'm sorry, during Charlie's excitement, we didn't get your name." Vaggie said, both her and Charlie sending a smile to the new female. The she-demon brushed off her dress, calming down from being pulled here and there. She cleared her throat before straightening her back and bowing her head slightly in a formal greeting, "My name is (Y/N) (L/N), It's an honor to meet you, princess Morningstar. Same with you, Vaggie. I hope I can be a good guest and help you achieve your goals."
Vaggie's eye went wide with surprise at how polite this she-demon was being, the only other person she's met that's this kind was Charlie. It made Vaggie a little suspicious. Charlie, on the other hand, was warmed by the greeting as tears swelled in her eyes. Angel then stepped up to the three women, "Wait, you said you saw a commercial. Which commercial did ya see?" Charlie then gasped, "Wait! You saw our commercial?!" The blonde shouted, shaking with excitement.
(Y/N) nodded, small smile on her lips, "Yes, I thought it was quite entertaining in all honesty." Charlie and Angel were confused while Vaggie squinted, "Wait, why was it entertaining?" (Y/N) gained a nervous sweat, "No offense, but I think my favorite part was about Charlie's daddy issues. I have no idea why you added it, but I liked it." She ended with a shrug. "Oh..." Charlie said dejectedly and Vaggie slapped her hand against her forehead. "Ugh, you saw Alastor's commercial." (Y/N) raised her eyebrow in surprise, "Really? I'll have to give him my compliments when I meet him."
Charlie shook her head and smiled again, placing her hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder, turning her towards the staircase, "Well, (Y/N), let me show you to your room. And please, just call me Charlie." The blonde said, referring to when (Y/N) called her 'princess Morningstar'.
Vaggie watched the two go up the stairs and disappear around the corner, her eye squinting with suspicion. Angel raised his brow at her, "What's with your face?" Vaggie ignored his comment, "How can someone in Hell be that nice? It doesn't make sense. Somethings gotta be up with her." Angel rolled his eyes at her paranoia, going and sitting back on the couch.
*Time Skip*
*(Y/N)'s POV*
It's been around an hour since you've arrived at the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie left you alone for the moment to settle into your room. After you finished placing your last piece of clothing away, you sat on your new bed and sighed, rubbing the area where your shoulder and neck connect. 'Charlie sure is energetic.' You thought to yourself.
Just then, you heard static outside your door. You look and see a shadow move from under the gap. As the shadow disappeared, so did the static. 'What was that?' You thought to yourself. You stood and made your way to your door, opening it and peeking your head out. You saw a red figure round the corner, the sound of static following them. You look around for Charlie, Vaggie, or anyone you could ask about the being you briefly saw. But there was no one in the hallway. 'Well, let's hope curiosity doesn't kill the deer...' You meekly thought, leaving your room and following after the red figure.
When you rounded the corner, you didn't see the figure. You then listened for the static, faintly hearing it. You made your way towards the noise, peeking your head around another corner. You then saw a door that was out of place from the other ones. This one was wooden, and had a small window near the top. Then, a light flickered on above the wooden door. You look and see it's an 'ON AIR' sign.
You thought back to when you first got to the hotel. On the outside was what looked to be a broadcasting tower, you just didn't think it was still functional from how it was leaning away from the building. "Salutations! Good to be back on the air!" You then heard a voice that sounded like it was coming from an old-timey radio say. 'Is that Alastor?' You thought, your curiosity growing. 'What does the infamous Radio Demon look like?'
Without thinking, you approached the door and pulled it open to see a metal flight of stairs leading up. "Yes I know it's been awhile since someone with style treated Hell to a broadcast, sinners rejoice!" You heard, what you assumed to be, Alastor say. You continued up the stairs, hearing a new voice you didn't recognized. This voice was clear, as if he was speaking to you in person, "What a dated voice!"
When you got to the top, you were met with another door, but this one was left ajar. "Instead of a clout chasing mediocre video podcast!" You heard Alastor say. You peek through the opening of the door and finally laid your eyes on him, The Radio Demon. He had pale skin, red eyes, short red hair that turned black for the last few inches, deer like ears that were larger than mine sat atop of his head, a set of antlers that were smaller than mine also accompanied his ears, and a large, sharp tooth yellow grin.
He wore a red suit and monocle, his bowtie, gloves, pants and shoes being black (accented by red). In his hand was his staff that, what looked to be, an older version of a microphone. "Come on!" The unknown voice shouted. "Is Vox insecure pursuing allure? Flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?" Alastor responded smugly into his staff, lifting his shoulders in a shrug.
"Ignore his chirping!" The second voice, Vox, shouted once more, sounding irritated. "Every day he's got a new format." The Radio Demon added. "You're looking at the future, he's the shit that comes before that!" The TV demon bellowed with a singing tone. Unfortunately for him, his comment didn't bother Alastor one bit. "Is Vox as strong as he purports, or is it based on his support? He'd be powerless without the other Vee's!" Alastor sang back, his comment causing you to smile in amusement. "Oh, please!" Vox said, not knowing a better comeback. 
"And here's the sugar on the cream, he asked me to join his team-" Alastor was interrupted by panicked Vox, "Hold on!" But the Radio Demon continued to sing into his staff, leisurely leaning back in his chair, "I said no and now he's pissy, that's the tea!" You had to cover your mouth to keep the giggle bubbling in your throat from slipping out.
"You old timey prick! I'll show you suf-suffering!" Vox's voice started to glitch. "Uh oh! The TV is buffering!" Alastor teased, propping his head on his hands. "I'll destroy yoo-o-u-u you little-" Before Vox could finish his sentence, he cut out, along with all of the power in Hell. You jumped in surprise at the sudden darkness coming from outside, but also at the fact that the only place that still had power was the broadcasting tower.
"I'm afraid you've lost your signal." Alastor continued, leaning forward, the air in the tower becoming sinister. "Let's begin, I'm gonna make you wish that I'd stayed gone." With every word he sang, Alastor's antlers grew along with his malicious grin. "Tune on in. When I'm done," Alastor stood from his seat, his form growing larger and more lanky. The red in his sclera turned pitch black, only his iris staying red. What looked to be red stitching started to appear all over his body and clothes, making him resemble a voodoo doll. "Your status quo will know its race is run," Red liquid started to leak from his mouth. "Oh this will be fun!" Alastor ended with a maniacal laugh, his pupils turning into little radio dials.
'So this is him... The Radio Demon.' You didn't know if you should be scared shitless or amazed by his power. Alastor returned to his normal form, taking a sip of his tea. He then suddenly spoke up, "Are you going to join me or just keep watching me from the shadows?" Alastor turned to the door, and I instantly knew he was talking to me. 'He's a powerful demon, of course he noticed me.' You thought, mentally face palming. You noted that he still sounded like he was speaking through a radio. 'How strange, but fitting for the Radio Demon.' You pushed the door open and stepped in, "I apologize, I didn't mean to eavesdrop."
*3rd Person POV*
"I apologize, I didn't mean to eavesdrop." When the she-demon stepped in, Alastor paused, taking in her looks. (H/l) (h/c) hair, (s/c) skin, (e/c) eyes, deer ears, and antlers in the shape of a heart with flowers. She wore a long-sleeved black dress that stopped mid-thigh, with small black buttons on the top of the dress, along with a thin black bowtie that sat above her exposed chest (but of course not exposing anything indecent). She also wore white tights, covering the skin on her legs. On her feet were black Mary Jane heels that completed her outfit. 'How strange,' Alastor thought. 'She doesn't look half bad.'
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[A/N: Something like this for your dress. Image does not belong to me.]
Alastor stood and made his way to the girl, "It is no problem, my dear! I broadcasted it for all of Hell to hear. Did you at least enjoy it?" He then twirled his staff in a flashy manner. The she-demon nodded, a small smile adorning her (thin/plump) lips, "Yes, I thought it was entertaining." Alastor's never-leaving smile widened at her words and he straightened his coat, "The names Alastor! Alastor Hartfelt! And who do I have the pleasure of being in the presence of?" He held out his hand to her, bending his body slightly to meet her height.
She stared at his hand, then back up to meet his eyes. Alastor tilted his head at her hesitancy. She started to stutter, embarrassed when she realized she had been staring, "S-Sorry, it's just that your eyes are much brighter up close." Before Alastor could respond or even think about her comment, she took ahold of his hand, shaking it. "My name is (Y/N) (L/N), it's an honor to meet you. I am the newest resident of the Hazbin Hotel." She said, slightly bowing her head in respect.
Before she could take her hand back, Alastor brought it up to her lips, leaving a kiss on her knuckles, "Please, dear! The pleasure is all mine!" When he let go of her hand, (Y/N) placed both of her hands behind her back, out of sight to Alastor as she rubbed her knuckles. Alastor discreetly pursed his smiling lips afterwards, both of the demons thinking:  'Why did that burn?'
"So," Alastor started, tilting his head again. "You're the newest resident? How did you come about the hotel?" To his surprise, she started to chuckle. "I actually saw your commercial, and I have to say, I found it quite hilarious." She giggled, placing her hand over her mouth to keep her laughter at bay. Both Alastor's eyes and smile widened with glee, "That was the goal, dear! I'm so glad you liked it! But I have to say, I am surprised it made you want to come here."
At his words, (Y/N)'s laughter halted. Alastor took note of her mood change. "Yes, well, you did say in your commercial that this was a path to redemption. Even if it is misguided," She let out a soft chuckle at the memory. "I want to get into Heaven." Alastor hummed, "Why do you want to go to Heaven?" (Y/N) opened her mouth to respond, but then shut it. She thought for a moment, a mental battle clear on her face. Eventually, she gave Alastor a strained smile, "Personal reasons."
Alastor hummed again, 'Interesting...' He thought. "Very well!" Alastor started, twirling his staff once more. He then moved to the door, holding it open. "Shall we? I'm sure Charlie hasn't finished giving you the tour yet. We don't want her to be disappointed at your sudden absence." (Y/N)'s (e/c) eyes widened and she took quick steps to the door, "Ah, you're right! It's rude to be late!" 
As (Y/N) made her way down the stairs, she missed the way Alastor looked at her. His head was tilted and his eyes were squinted. 'What an anomaly.' He thought right before following her.
*Time Skip*
Charlie had just finished giving (Y/N) the full tour of the hotel, with Alastor accompanying them and making little sarcastic remarks here and there, making (Y/N) chuckle (much to Charlie's dismay). "Well, what d'ya think!?" Charlie asked, grin large and holding her arms out wide, gesturing to the hotel.  (Y/N) nodded, small smile on her lips, "It's nice." At her words, the blonde squealed, "Ah! I'm so glad you like it!" She then took ahold of (Y/N)'s  hands in hers, "Trust me, (Y/N)! I'll do everything in my power to get you redeemed and into Heaven!" 
Alastor took in the doe demons expression and could easily tell she was uncomfortable at her personal space being invaded. But, she continued to smile. "Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate your effort." She said, making the princess jumped in happiness. 
Just then, Charlie's phone went off with a notification. She looked at the message and gained a mischievous grin. "Oh, (Y/N)!" Charlie said in a sing-song tone, "There's something waiting for you in the foyer!" The blonde started to make her way, skipping in excitement while Alastor and (Y/N) followed behind at a leisurely pace. 
The doe demon sighed, but smiled nonetheless, "It's a welcoming party, isn't it?" Alastor looked to her through the corner of his eye, seeing her looking straight ahead at Charlie with a tired fondness. "How could you tell?" Alastor asked, already knowing the answer. (Y/N) softly chuckled, "Charlie is easy to read." The Radio Demon found this interesting. Then a question formed in his mind. He needed to gather more intel on this strange being. "Am I easy to read?"
Finally, (Y/N) looked up at him through her (long/short) lashes, her lips still holding that small smile, "No, you're an anomaly."
Alastor halted in his steps, staring at the doe demons figure as she got smaller and smaller, still following Charlie. When both of their figures disappeared around the corner, Alastor felt like he could finally breath. Multiple thoughts ran through his, now panicked, mind.
'Who is she?'
'Why is she here?'
'Can she read my mind?'
'She has to be fucking with me.'
'There has to be more to her.'
'She must be playing dumb.'
"Alastor? Are you still joining us?" The male snapped his head up to see just the person he was freaking out about. (Y/N) had stepped back around the corner, her eyebrow raised in question. 'Well you know what they say: keep your friends close and your enemies closer...' Alastor thought before disappearing into his shadow just to reappear next to the girl, making her jump in surprise. "Of course, dear! I apologize if I kept you waiting." (Y/N) smiled in response, "It's alright. No need to apologize." 
The two then finished the walk to the foyer in silence, being greeted by a loud 'Surprise!' when they made it to their destination. There was a large banner that said: 'Welcome (Y/N)!' in different colored paint, the bar was decorated in hearts, there was a table full of food and the center pieces were bouquets of wild flowers, on a different table were various card and board games, and next to the couch was a... karaoke machine.
Alastor noticed how (Y/N)'s shoulders dropped when she laid eyes on the singing machine. He leaned down to her height, "What's the matter, dear? Don't like to sing?" (Y/N) shook her head, "No, not really. I don't sing." There was another thing Alastor found interesting about her. Every one in Hell sang, even him.
Charlie came bounding up to both of the deer demons, "So, (Y/N)! It's your party! What would you like to do first?" The girl looked around and noticed everyone's eyes on her, waiting for her response. "U-Um, why don't you guys get a game of cards started while I go get a drink?" Charlie smiled and nodded, her, Vaggie and Angel heading to the game table. (Y/N) made her way to the bar and Alastor watched her every move. 
"What will ya have?" Husk questioned, his tone bored. "Do you have any wine or whiskey?" (Y/N) asked, taking a seat. "No to the wine, and for the whiskey, we only have the cheap stuff." Husk responded, gesturing to the bottles behind him. "Oh," (Y/N) hummed, thinking about what else she should order.
Alastor disappeared into his shadow, reappearing next to the doe demon, making her jump in surprise once more. "I believe I might be able to help you!" Alastor said. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a bottle of whiskey from his personal stash that was already 1/4th gone. (Y/N) squinted her eyes to read the label, and when she saw what it was, her eyes went as wide as saucers. "No way!" She started, looking from the bottle to Alastor. "Macallan 1926?! How did you get that?!" Alastor chuckled, pleased at how she knew how valuable the alcohol was, "I have my ways, darling. I only bring this out for special occasions, so consider this a welcoming gift, from me to you."
[A/N: Fun fact, a bottle of Macallan 1926 is worth over two million dollars.]
When Alastor reached behind the bar and took two brandy glasses, Husk took that as his que to leave, taking a bottle of the cheap whiskey and joining the others. Alastor filled the glasses a third of the way, gently sliding one over to (Y/N). She looked at it with furrowed brows, turning her gaze to Alastor, "Are you sure I can have this?" The Radio Demon tilted his head in confusion, "Do you not want it?" 
(Y/N) vigorously shook her head, not wanting to offend the male. "No! Of course I do... It's just, I don't feel like I'm worth it..." She ended her sentence, playing with the base of the glass in a nervous habit. Alastor's head stayed tilted, wondering what the girl had done to make herself feel too guilty to accept a drink. Alastor then straightened up, taking his glass in his empty hand, "Well, believe it or not, I think you're worth it. If I didn't, I wouldn't be offering you this drink now, would I?" He ended with a laugh. (Y/N) looked up at him with wide doe eyes, surprised at the Radio Demon's kind words. She gave him a genuine smile, "Thank you, I appreciate it, Alastor." 
Something ticked inside of the males mind at finally seeing a smile that reached the doe demons (e/c) eyes and how his name sounded coming from her voice. 'How strange,' He thought. 'I'll dissect that later.' Alastor went and stood next to the girl, offering her his left arm, "Shall we? Everyone is waiting for us." (Y/N) kept her smile, standing and linking her right arm with Alastor's, her drink in her left hand, "We shall."
[A/N: let me know if I missed changing any 'Alruist' to 'Hartfelt']
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lovebugism · 1 year ago
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"get up, you're snoring and i can't hear the movie." "then turn it up..." "so you can yell at me for waking you up? no!" "you woke me up anyway!" THIS is so Eddie coded
anon, you're so right. this IS so eddie coded. hope you like it!! — the one where eddie wants to spend time with you, even when he's so so tired (fluff, miscommunication, established relationship, 1.3k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
Empire Strikes Back plays on the tiny television across the room, blurry through static and mostly unwatched.
The swelling score fills the small living room as Han Solo weaves through an active asteroid field. Green lasers from enemy TIE fighters light up the dark room in varying shades of vivid neon. The only source of light in the whole trailer comes from the glowing television screen. 
As the smuggler leads the Millennium Flacon to safety on a foreign planet, Harrison Ford mumbles beneath his breath — “Yeah, that’ll do nicely.” You’re forced to imagine the deep baritone of the man’s honeyed voice with Eddie snoring through the entire scene.
The Munson boy was known for being a loudmouth every other hour of the day, so it only made sense that he couldn’t stay quiet in his sleep. You never minded it, though. You found it quite endearing, actually. Though maybe not when his heavy breaths are billowing directly in your ear.
Eddie was the one who wanted to have a movie night, after all. Between your studies and his shifts at the car shop, the two of you were lucky to have a day to yourselves. This night together was the first one you’ve had without interruption in a week. 
Well, it was supposed to be, anyway.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Princess Leia frets as Eddie breathes in a soft snore. 
With the way he’s holding you — his arm thrown over your middle, pressing you intently to his chest so the two of you could fit on the small couch — his warm exhale fans across the shell of your ear. He nuzzles his nose against the skin there, taunting you with his cuteness.
Adorable, and so unaware.
“Yeah, me too—” Han quips, though it’s drowned out by a louder snore.
Tired and half-annoyed, you elbow the boy in the ribs — gently until he starts to stir. 
He groans and holds you tighter. You can imagine his scrunched features halfway hidden beneath his wild, curly hair. “Hm… What is it?” he grumbles in an inaudible slur. 
“You’re snoring,” you grouse with a dramatic pout furrowing your brows. “I can’t hear the movie.”
Eddie huffs. He’s almost as annoyed as you are now, displeased that you woke him up just to tell him that. His limbs grow heavy with sleep all over again. He hugs you tighter to him and smells your floral body wash when he buries his face against the side of yours. 
The ends of his hair tickle your neck. You fight back a shiver.
“Just turn it up,” he mumbles.
“So you can yell at me for waking you up?” you retort in a scoff.
Eddie exhales a faint laugh into your ear. It’s a much prettier sound than his semi-aggressive snores. “You woke me up anyway!”
“Because I can’t hear the stupid movie— the movie that you wanted to watch, by the way.”
You expect him to meet your quip with one of his own. Like he always does. Your relationship was practically built on petty banter and accompanied kisses. So when he responds with a strangely sincere apology, you’re quite visibly perplexed.
“I’m sorry, babe, I just…” he cuts himself off with yawn — a big one that squints his eyes and takes several long moments to get out. You feel his chest deflate with the heavy exhale. “…I’m just tired. I had to cover for Wayne and ended up working, like, twelve hours. I’m pretty sure my arms are made of jello now.”
He laughs his exhaustion off while you melt for him.
You grow suddenly heavy with a mixture of adoration and guilt. With pinched-together brows, you twist on the cushion until you’re on your back and staring up at the sleepy boy.
Half of his face is shadowed by the night, while the other half glows with the flickering scenes from the fuzzy television. 
As you expected, his hair is wild and his eyes are heavy and his cheeks are puffy with sleep. The day had certainly done a number on your pretty boy.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” you ask, much softer than you’d been just moments before.
He shrugs one shoulder with jutted pink lips, jostling you softly. Despite his fatigue, his chocolate eyes sparkle down at you.
“‘Cause it was my idea. And you were super excited about it… And also I thought I could stay awake,” he rambles, then scrunches the bridge of his nose. “I think I might’ve been wrong about that one.”
You twist on the cushions again, facing him more and melting with him effortlessly. He slides one arm behind your head and clutches your thigh with the other when you swing it over his hip. His gaze flits between yours as a smile pulls at your lips. 
“You were very, very wrong, Eddie Munson,” you lilt and smooth the palm of your hand over his jaw. “Here I thought, you were just getting bored of me.”
He snorts a bitter laugh, unamused by your silly half-joke. “Never,” he assures right before closing the short distance between you and pressing his lips to yours. 
He tastes like buttered popcorn, sweet soda, and much needed sleep.
It’s a languid peck — innocent and unwavering. A slotting of his mouth with yours and a lingering there for several moments.
When he pulls away from you, you mutter, “Do you want me to leave?”
His chin jerks back as though you’d just said something so inane that he can't help but be shocked by it. His dark eyes go wide accordingly, face lighting up in flickering shades of white and blue from the television screen. 
“Why would you even ask me that?” he wonders, taking full offense to your harmless inquiry.
“‘Cause you’re tired,” you answer with a quiet laugh. “And I want you to sleep.”
“I can sleep just fine right here.”
“No, you can’t! I’ll fall off the edge!”
“Not like this, you can’t—” he assures before maneuvering you all over again. 
He keeps his firm hold on you as he wriggles on the couch cushions. He twists until he’s lying on his back and his head is propped up on the arm of the sofa.
You’re lying on top of him completely, legs slotted between both of his, torso pressed intently against his own, and forearms above his shoulders to hold yourself up.
He exhales sharply through his nose when he finally settles, beaming up at you right after. He's visibly tired but looks like sunshine anyway. He’s too in love with you not to wear it all over his face.
“See? Is this perfect or what?”
“I’ll crush you,” you answer with a laugh, knowing if you rested your full weight on him, he’d have a much harder time being so comfortable.
“What a sweet, sweet way to go,” Eddie singsongs in a whimsical sigh.
“You’re such an idiot,” you giggle, shaking your head down at him. 
You brush the tip of your nose over the bridge of his for a moment before kissing him again. It’s deeper than the peck from before, but no less innocuous — lips clicking sweetly when you part from him.
You huff and wedge yourself between his side and the couch cushion so you can relax without halfway suffocating him.
You hold him like a teddy bear while he slides an arm over your back, curling his free one behind his head in a makeshift pillow. He tilts his chin downward and smiles when he watches you smush your cheek against his chest.
“Tired?” he hums quietly to you.
You shake your head in response even though your bones ache with the sort of exhaustion only a college student could know. Your eyelids grow suddenly heavy. Blinking becomes a chore.
“No,” you answer. Your words come out slurred in a terribly hidden yawn. “Are you?”
He shakes his head, slow and lazy. His eyes flutter shut a second later. Yours aren’t open to see it, anyway.
“Nope,” he says, popping the p.
Neither of you is entirely sure who fell asleep first — only that the movie played on without you that night.
You’ll spend breakfast bickering about who stayed awake the longest, between bowls of cereal and morning kisses alike.
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