#the feet are a little twisty but i think it’s cute

[jayykesley]

chicken bag is complete!!!

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。this feeling inside of me— | gojo satoru

wc: 1.5k

summary: you make gojo realize that this twisty-pop!-y feeling in his stomach might just be jealousy. 

contains: written with f!reader in mind but no pronouns are used, mild jealousy, mentions of some of the students, lots of stifled laughs and held back grins!, mostly fluff really, gojo just doesn’t understand what he’s feeling! 

a/n: split this into two parts: the first half (this one), lighter and more central to reader’s perspective, while the second half (the next part), darker, and more central to gojo’s perspective. best read after ‘so this is what it means to be in love’ because there are some references made! 

collection masterlist: conversations on love 03. so this is what it means to be in love + (extended scene) too good to be mine <-you are here -> 3.5b. —will i ever bring you peace?

Gojo’s been… hovering lately.

He hangs around you a lot more than usual, following your footsteps around your apartment as if he didn’t just spend the night and stay in bed with you all morning. 

You’d think that’d stop at work, but nope. 

For someone who hates sitting still, Gojo’s spending an awful lot of time doing nothing while watching you rifle through folders and documents you’re meant to type away. He sits by the chair in front of his desk, feet propped up and fingers tapping on the wooden surface enough to push you just to the point of going a little crazy. 

Tap.

You could have sworn you’ve read this line already. 

Tap.

This paragraph feels entirely too familiar at this point. 

Tap—

“Satoru,” you sigh, smile half-annoyed-half-guilty as you switch your attention to the man in front of you, “do you have extra work to finish today?” 

You’re trying to ask kindly, after all, Gojo rarely chooses to sit by the paperwork he’s been assigned to do (even though he doesn’t really do any of it because it’s mostly left to you). 

He stops tapping, moving to rest his cheek on one hand as he flashes you a grin so lovesick you think it’s infectious—the corners of your lips are curling up too. 

“Just working on spending more time with you.” 

Of course he says something like this; the most powerful man in jujutsu society transformed into the ever-charming sweet-talker that being your lover brings. 

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you chuckle—the look on your face a reflection of his. As annoyed as you are that he’s distracting you, you’re endeared. 

“You didn’t have to come with me, you know.” 

Today is his day-off after all. 

He hums, eyes set on you with cerulean sincerity, “It’s boring without you, though.” 

Strands of white fall to kiss his eyelashes and you reach forward to brush them off—his hair is getting longer now, you note. No doubt he’s going to ask you to accompany him for a haircut soon. 

His nose scrunches under the space your fingers hover over and you draw them back, “Clingy.”

—which he’s always been, but even moreso lately. You don’t know where all of it is coming from, how it’s even possible for him to be clingier than normal, but the past weeks have definitely shown you that he is more than capable. 

Gojo loves grocery runs, but only when he’s able to wander around the breakfast and candy section while you go through the long list of essentials and ingredients that need stocking up on. 

Not last week though. 

Instead of beelining straight towards his usual spot, he stayed right where you were, pushing the cart whenever you needed him to and reaching up on the top shelf for things you’d normally have to ask some other kind sir to get to. He stays close to you, body draping over yours as you line up for the checkout queue—long limbs, long torso, long everything engulfing you.

It’s endearing, and cute, and oh so Satoru, but the days after that find him following you everywhere—picking you up after pottery with Megumi (as if you can’t make it back home alone), insisting on doing a taste test on cooking lessons with Inumaki, and even joining you on that afternoon yoga class you reserved for (initially) just you and Yuuji. 

You wonder what’s causing this, why he’s acting this way lately.

“Well, I have to be or else Yuuji might really steal you away from me.” he jokes, elbows propped on the table as he rests his chin on clasped hands. 

You know that he isn’t actually threatened by Yuuji—just that he wants more attention from you, some that you give to the pink-haired boy too eagerly and so easily. 

Still, it’s weird whatever he’s feeling right now, a bundle of unrest bubbling in his stomach these days. He isn’t familiar with it, doesn’t really know what to call it, just that he knows when it hits—like knots waiting to pop at any minute.  

You stand up from your seat to make your way to him, glancing at the clock across the room; you suppose there’s no point trying to squeeze in any more work for the last 20 minutes before you’re set to clock out. 

Gojo pats his thigh, as if beckoning you to sit; he manspreads like crazy but you think it makes sense for moments when he wants to hold you like this. 

Once you position yourself on his lap, he snakes an arm around your waist as you sling yours around the back of his neck, landing a soft peck at the tip of his nose. The hand resting on your hip rubs gently. 

“Is that comment still bothering you?” you ask, scratching the short buzzed hair of his undercut. 

You catch his eyes then, sky blue with a troubled sea.

Now that he thinks about it, it probably did start with the videos. 

Gojo Satoru is a man of many accolades: the strongest, a lone child prodigy, the best teacher (self-proclaimed); at some point he was also the world’s saving grace, and you’d think after that he’d decide to lay low for a bit, have a change of pace—but no.

The man you love has also, apparently, become a social media heartthrob after garnering attention for vlogging your dates. For the memories, he had said, but of course, it’s never just that when he’s as pretty–if not prettier–than the models you see on magazines and billboard posters. The video goes viral and suddenly you’re made very aware of just how coveted he is across all generations. 

He feels the first pop! in his stomach when he finds the comment under a 10-minute video of your day out in the park. He blacked out, he’s sure, but some loser said something about how you were so hot and completely out of his league.

As if he doesn’t know that already, but it’s how confident user ManInATux69 typed that you should just leave Gojo and be with him instead. That one stung a bit; maybe even got to his head, and it’s ridiculous because it really is just some faceless person on the internet. 

But maybe that’s really how this feeling started. 

“Of course not,” he pouts, eyes avoiding yours as he looks to the side, brows furrowed.

You stifle a giggle as you wait, biting the insides of your cheek as you stare at him. A mental countdown until—

“Maybe a bit.” he mumbles after a few blinks, pout deepening as he turns to you. He always comes around to tell you the truth, without fail. 

It’s endearing, and cute, and oh so Satoru. Your Satoru.

“You wanna tell me how you’re feeling exactly?” 

If there’s one word Gojo will use to describe you, it will always be lovely. You have always been so gentle, so kind, never pushing, always asking lightly. 

You’ve sat through all his non-answers, so he thinks it’s just right, fair, that he gladly offers up his heart to you, now nestled into the palm of your hands as he lays all these feelings down, bare, intended just for you. 

He takes your free hand and places it right at his center, the space between his chest and abdomen. It’s warm as his hand dwarfs yours, forming it into a fist and twisting it into his skin. 

“Feels like a knot first,” he begins, before jerking your hand slightly as if to emulate a pop!, “then it pops.” 

And you think, that for all he sees and knows, it’s ironic that he can describe a feeling so vividly yet not know what it’s called—what it could possibly mean or be. 

“Do you think you’re jealous, Satoru?” you ask, smiling, fighting back a giggle (again), tone teasing. 

Hm, he thinks, is that what this is? 

Jealousy? 

He stares at you, lips parted slightly as you watch it register to him slowly. 

“Would explain why you’ve been hovering,” you chuckle, stroking small circles with your thumb. 

“I have not been hovering.” he snaps out of it, almost offended. 

You give him a look, eyebrow raised and mouth set in a smirk as if to say: really?

He relents, taking your hand to interlace your fingers with his, “Maybe a little.” 

Kisses are dotted along your knuckles, his eyes closed as if to ground him. You’ve known Gojo for so long that you can tell when he’s still figuring out how to say whatever it is he wants to—and your heart warms at the fact that this side to him is one he only entrusts to you. 

“There’s no competition, you know,” you whisper, the sky opening back to you, “I love you.” 

Your words are weighted, meant for him to hold and keep in the parts of him that doubt what he means to you. And it might sound a bit silly, to be this affected over a comment from some nobody, but you don’t want to leave any room for uncertainty—for your inaction to once again feed into his insecurity. 

He hums, soft vibrations flowing through his lips still pressed against your hand. Red is starting to bloom across his cheeks to his nose, and he mumbles, “Just want to be sure I’m good to you.”

a/n: the first and second part wouldn’t have fit in tone if i put them in one fic, so i split them! the second part will be a bit darker, more serious, but will discuss more of where the feelings stem from in the first place! 

thank you notes: to niku @stellamancer for listening to me and being there when i seriously needed it writing this!! & to dilly and somi my bbgirls!! @crysugu @soumies for always cheering me on, especially during the slump!! 

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[katskitoshi]

May I please have this? https://www.tumblr.com/katskitoshi/696416151501209600/sheepy-twisted-wonderland?source=share

But instead of sheep a Bunny and with the other dorms?

Thx Love your work!!!<3

"MY CUTE LITTLE BUNNY!" with TWISTED WONDERLAND.

synopsis: you thought you would be prepared to never let another sheepy incident happen again. however, you clearly underestimate your friend's ability to ruin your life. but this time, you turn into a fluffy little bunny rather than a fluffy little sheep.

characters: riddle, trey, cater, ace, deuce, leona, ruggie, jack, azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, vil, rook, epel, idia, ortho, malleus, lilia, silver, & sebek x fem! reader

you took extra precautions to try to prevent yourself in an alchemy incident. you watched each ingredient go in, stopped horse playing and petty fights, and double-triple made sure the order of each ingredient was correct. somehow, after a miscalculation or addition of some unknown substance (grim added something without telling you), your body turns into [color] smoke and you shrink down a bunch of feet.

you're no taller than grim now, with cute floppy ears, a fluffy tail, and a cute twitching nose thats flicking especially fast from stress. and just like before, you're left in the hands of the dorms as crewel looks for a way to turn you back. let's see how they do, yeah?

HEARTSLABYUL is a pretty safe place for a bunny like yourself! nice roses, cute animal friends, and nice tea parties you get to be apart of. it's easy to get lost in the twisty-turvy halls, but it's still a pretty dorm for a pretty bunny!

riddle is a pretty suitable caretaker. you're fed each meal, which is surprisingly more than carrots thanks to trey. he'll brush your fluffy coat and keep you looking as proper as possible! a nice, long bath is due after a tiring day of hanging out with the hedgehogs and flamingos, and he's pretty good at restoring your fluffy coat to it's former glory. once bed time rolls around, he'll let you take one half of his bed and he'll take the other. if you hop into his arms while he sleeps, he won't push you away. however, if you nudge at him with cute pleading bunny eyes for a bite of his tart he will. he loves you dearly, but he will not share his tart with you while you're in bunny form. that's a treat reserved only for when you're human.

trey is your sole reason for sanity. you thought you'd be fed carrots and lettuce all day, but he's able to whip your vegetables into anything you wish. carrot cake, sugar free fruit tarts, hay biscuits. any food you could think of, trey will try and most likely succeed in making it perfect for your bunny tummy. besides his amazing cooking, trey's good at grooming and reading you. he absolutely loves your little ear or nose twitches! if you're good, he'll let you help him bake or collect some ingredients. but only if you're good, okay?

pretty predictably, cater is thrilled about your transformation! it's super cute and magicammable. don't worry, he has his phone, a brush, and a cute diamond hair clip on standby as soon as you enter his care. it's time for a makeover! he'll manage your fluffy fur into a nice style with the hair clip and take a bunch of pictures. once that's done, he'll take you out to the rose garden and just talk for hours with you. he takes notice of your every reaction and pets your cute ears in response. if you couldn't tell, he loves them. but it might be obvious due to how often his hands will gravitate towards them and just fondle them. gah, you're so cute! all these pictures might overtake his sheepy one!

ace was supposed to be beheaded for his crimes, but he seems to like punishment. somehow, he got his hands on you and you're terrified. but this time, it's all for nothing. surprisingly, ace was a much better caretaker than before. he fed you and kept you out of harms way enough the survive your time with him. but ace made his time with you special. a little dream of his was to pull a rabbit out of a hat, so he used a small teleportation spell to transport you from his bed, to be slowly pulled out of his top hat. with a "ta-da~!" leaving his lips, you begged to go again! it was fun, and ace was finally not putting you in harms way so its a win win.

sweet deuce always wanted a bunny growing up. he never got one, but perhaps this mishap was a blessing in disguise. he hugged you close to his chest gently when he first got to hold you and smiled brightly. deuce is a great caretaker. he'll bring you whatever you want, even if you shouldn't eat/have it, and he'll let you play outside for a nice long time! all he asks for in return are some cute snuggles and to let him pet your ears. his dreams will come true!

perhaps letting you stay in SAVANACLAW for a bit was a mistake. it was hot and scary. the blazing sun and dry conditions were nice, but the sand blowing in your face and wool was not. oh, and not to mention you were at the bottom of the food chain here. i mean, who's brilliant idea was it to keep a prey and a dorm full of predators?

be lucky leona values human you a bit. if he hadn't, who knows what would've happened to you? maybe a big, scary beastman would snatch you up, tun you into bunny stew, and eat you for dinner with no remorse. leona'll tell you all those things to try and scare you, but sevens forbid once of the losers in his dorm lay a hand on you. then, they'll turn into beastman stew and leona will slurp them up and go right back to bed while using you as a pillow.

how adorable could you get? ruggie will chuckle at your new form, his familiar laugh and smile making you feel a bit less stressed about the situation. as usual, leona will throw ruggie some money to take care of you, only use a bit for you and pocket the rest. he still cares, so he'll even watch you frolic and play around the botanical gardens or fields of savanaclaw.

jack is such a good boy, as always. he always takes care of you and does it pretty well. nice meals and groomings obviously. he'll also let you play around outside if you get bored, or do anything your little bunny brain wants. as long as it's in reason, he'll give it at least a thought. so, to put it short: no, [name], jack will not let you go inside the microwave to see what it feels like.

when approaching OCTAVINELLE, your best decision is to hop as far as you can and as fast as you can. but unfortunately, that cannot help your poor, unfortunate bunny soul for there are eels and octopuses that stop you from going before the fun begins.

dollar signs ring in azul's head as he hears about your form. hooray! marketing! you can either sit pretty in the eating area of the lounge or in his office for private pet sessions. for the cheap price of 1000 madol, a student can pet your cute little bunny ears. besides being a marketing tool for him, he cares for you pretty well.

jade drugs you. nothing more to say than that he wanted to give you some mushrooms and well, bunnies don't fair well with them. next thing you know, you're hallucinating carrots and [favorite food] and begin chomping away at him. jade only laughs. he's an okay caretaker. but he much enjoys seeing you woozy from just a common mushroom. he really wants to see what happens to you with psychedelics.

look, when you said you wanted to go in the microwave, you were joking! floyd attempts part 2 of attempting to cook his crush. it was crazy, honestly. floyd seemed to learn no lesson! but at least your so squeezable in this form! ah, his cuteness aggression is kicking in! he's still harsh, but at least the number of injuries has decreased. so perhaps something has changed. but let's not forget of his crimes. attempted microwave cooking, attempted drowning, yanking your ears, flicking your nose, and quite a few more that will most likely not end up on his record but should.

similar to savanaclaw, SCARABIA is a dorm with great living conditions for bunnies! most of the time, the dorm members are nice and the dry ground is fun to dig in.

kalim had changed a lot since last time. he's a lot better at taking care of you. if it's too warm, he'll make a little oasis. for you to swim in or drink out of. he'll let you hop around the desert planes of scarabia but he'll most likely lose you. and when he pets you, he's a bit rough from cuteness aggression, but he loves you and treats you like royalty nonetheless.

jamil is again your main caretaker, and again one of the best people you can end up with. nice food, well taken care of, lovely head-rubs and all sorts of affections. i'd like to believe that once upon a time kalim or one of his siblings had a rabbit and it turned into jamil's responsibility to take care of it. who would've know that their negligence would help him?

hopping into POMEFIORE was lovely. the scenery was breathtaking and it smelled of fresh fruits and apples. this is one of the only dorms you can hop around and just find food lying there. nice fields to get lost in, nice waters to swim in. this dorm is like bunny heaven!

vil is a great caretaker, and he'll carry you wherever you need to go. you know this little poodle pouch bag things, vil owns one just for you. after treating your wool, whiskers, and paws and such, he'll plop you right into his little bag and stroll around pomefiore to invoke the jealous stares of his dorm mates. now, you're the prettiest bunny with the prettiest man to carry you around!

you know those fields you like to get lost in? yeah, you're never really lost because rook always has his eye on you. he loves you as a bunny dearly. taking photos at every moment or chasing you just to see your ears and nose twitch in fear. it's hilarious to him! and insane for you to think he wouldn't just love to sneak up behind you, grab you, and hold you to his chest while giving you kisses all over your little bunny head and ears. as soon as you're back in human form, he'll give you some real kisses while he forces you to look at all the cute bunny pictures he has!

sweet epel shares his apples with you. back home, he was familiar with bunnies as they'd come into the orchard and try to steal apples. he'll cut them up into cute shapes for you so you don't have to hit the trees to try to get them to fall for you. again, he'll carve you a little apple figurine of you in bunny form. epel'll share some sweet moments of just talking as he rambles into his southern accent, like he used to do back home, but instead he's just rambling onto his crush.

IGNIHYDE is freezing! but luckily you have nice thick, fluffy wool to cover you and keep you warm. it's a refreshing change from the warm weather of other dorms, but one things the other dorms were definitely better at was their natural aspects. there was barely any outdoorsy space for you to frolic in!

idia has never considered having a garden in ignihyde, but your pleading bunny eyes and downturned ears somehow convince him. next thing you know, idia's had a small garden built for you to jump around in. he even leaves his room to watch you. when you aren't in his garden, he's sit you on his desk or lap and pet your ears as he games or something. perhaps he'll even give you some pomegranates to snack on. oops! looks like you have to stay in ignihyde just a bit longer~!

ortho is darling, really. he searches the web for how to perfectly care for you and caters to your every need. he even helps convince idia to make you that garden. he'll even take you to the gardens of night raven for you to be able to play around properly, and buy you some bunny feed. overall, good job ortho! he's a good caretaker.

DIASOMNIA is a scary place for a little bunny like yourself. oh, you thought you were being towered over in other dorms? that's funny! people are like giants here, and you haven't been this scared since octavinelle.

of course, malleus was left out of the meeting that explained that you would be passing through the dorm's care. he went to ramshackle expecting you, only to find you were at his dorm! he teleports there immediately, and smiles once he get's to hold you. he didn't think you could get any smaller! malleus was more interested in stone animals than anything, but a cute breathing bunny is fun too. especially when it's his child of man.

lillia should not be left in charge to care for you. well, at first he shouldn't. he'll play the ropes a bit and is quite rough at first. pulling your ears a bit and flicking your nose a bit too hard, but he'll suddenly flip a switch and is super gentle and sweet. nice pets, kind words, the whole kindness bundle. but then, he tries to feed you. and you're certain it was all a act to get you to trust him and for him to feed you his awful food! once you're human again, he'll wonder why you have a little grudge with him, not understanding that he's nearly killed you with his food.

silver is missing in action. not a bad caretaker or a good one. but he naturally has animals gravitate to him so he barely noticed having you hop in. once he familiarizes himself with you and realizes you're not just some woodland creature, you're his friend and his crush, he'll straighten up his act a bit and make sure you're taken care of especially. although it makes the other animals jealous, silver can't help but hold you specifically while he's sleeping. it's so sweet!

sebek is okay. he's not all that familiar with animals, but can hold his own in taking care of you. you're fed pretty nice meals but not given that much affection. his cuteness aggression might kick in, so he refrains from it. he'll also try to watch his voice, because he knows it'll hurt your ears if he's too loud.

[ticklishbeans4]

2D Beings Deserve Tickles To!

I've been wanting to write something with Prismo for awhile given all the art that's been floating around! And how could I not add Finn and Jake in there?

Jake and Finn were laying on the floor of Prismo’s cube, chilling out as they watched some other dimension stuff with the comic being. This had become a pretty common occurrence with the three, Prismo seemed to enjoy the company, and the two brothers were more than happy to provide it. Plus, it was super cool to see other versions of themselves.

“Oh this ones pretty cool!” Prismo gushed, “This one was made when someone wished that they could just live as a child forever. So I made a kid world! Aren’t they cute?”

“Awwww! Look at little Finn!” Jake cooed, “I forgot how cute you were!”

“Are you kidding? Look at puppy you!” Fin laughed, “You’re so tiny!”

“Not as cute as you!” Jake laughed, jumping on Finn and starting a wrestling match between the brothers.

Prismo watched fondly, this happened a lot when they came over, but it never stopped being amusing to see. It kinda made him wish he had a sibling, someone he could hangout with and talk to. A built in best friend, like Finn and Jake.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a sudden shriek, followed by a burst of laughter from Finn. Looking over, his eyes widened and he quickly looked away, if he could blush, he was sure he’d be red as Golb. Jake was tickling Finn.

Now Prismo was no stranger to the concept of tickling. Watching hundreds of universes with hundreds of people, he’d seen plenty of tickling. It always had a… weird effect on him. It made his guts feel twisty and fluttery, he couldn’t always look at it, but sometimes he couldn’t look away, sometimes he’d even replay those moments over and over. He didn’t really get why he felt like this, the only other time he felt like this was around Jake but… it was different. He knew that without a shadow of a doubt.

“HELP!” Finn cried, reaching a hand out to Prismo before he shot it back down when Jake scribbled into his underarm.

Prismo just tried to focus on the screen, not able to look directly at the scene. He wished he knew why he felt this way about such an innocent practice. He’d watched parents tickling their kids, siblings getting into tickle fights, heck! He’d seen babies in the baby dimension tickle each other! So it was just an innocent, fun, silly thing! Sure he knew it could be used in… other ways, but those didn’t make him feel all fluttery and twisty.

“Prismo, you good?” Jake asked, apparently having given Finn mercy.

“Oh! Uh, yeah! Yeah I’m good! Totally good! So good actually! Ha! Why do you ask?” he said nervously, moving from wall to wall with his jittery energy.

Finna sat up, rubbing his belly, “Dude, are you sure? You’re acting all weird.”

“Nope! I’m dandy as candy!” he laughed, “Hey! Let me show you the dimension where everyone is a stuffed animal!”

“Prismo…” Jake said, his voice sending shivers up Prismos back. “Are you ticklish?”

“Am I…” he thought for a second, was he ticklish? “I… huh, I don’t know. No one’s ever tried.”

“What?” the pair cried, immediately jumping to their feet.

“You’ve never been tickled?” Jake cried, “Dude it’s like, the best! How have you never been tickled!?”

Prismo shrugged, “Well, who’s gonna do that to the wish master? No one really does that kind of thing around here, ya know?”

The two looked aghast, which was a little funny. Till their faces changed with a single shared look, devious smiles spread across their faces.

Jake casually cracked his fingers, “Well… I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

Finn smirked, “I think it’ll be fun to be the first ones to try.”

Prismo felt that twisty fluttery feeling in full force. He didn’t know if he should run, or just let it happen. He did want it to happen, but also every part of him was saying to run. “I- uh- w-well!”

Jake chuckled as he stalked closer to the 2D being, “Don’t worry Prismo, we’ll be nice!” “For the most part.” Finn giggled, a distinctly evil sound to Prismo.

“N-now guys! Let's just chill! I-I mean, we can just sit back and watch some other dimensions and eat cheese crackers!” he rambled, waving his hands around animatedly.

Well it seemed the pair weren’t swayed by his incredible argument, as they pounced, scribbling at where his belly was on the floor. And Prismo was absolutely not prepared for the feeling. It was like… Glob he didn’t even know! He’d never felt anything like this! It was light, but scratchy, but it made him feel all tingly and light and weird!

Poor Prismo didn’t stand a chance against the feeling, especially since he’d never experienced it before. Immediately he burst into giggles, and shot himself over to the other wall. There was a pause, a moment where they all just looked at each other…

“Get ‘im!” Jake cried, and the two launched themselves at Prismo again. Prismo wasn’t fast enough to get away as they scribbled at him again. Finn targeted his belly, but Jake decided to try other spots. He stretched his limbs to scratch at his underarms and his neck.

Primso shrieked, a weird sound coming from him in his opinion, and fell into cackling laughter. He didn’t run this time, just flapped his hands and wiggled around in the room. Random things began appearing in the room as well, a feather duster, a pig, flowers, little glowy swirls, stars, and moons appearing on the walls. “Jake! Dude! His powers are goin bananers!” Finn laughed, picking up the feather duster and brushing it against Prismo’s side, making him screech and jerk away.

“NOHOHOHOHO! AHAHAHAHAAHAH! STAHAHAHAHAP!” he shrieked, not at all wanting it to stop. This was more fun than any wish granting, any dimension watching, it was even more fun than pickle making!

“Aw, you’re fine!” Jake teased, “You’re barely trying to get away! I bet you like it!”

“NOOOOHOHOOHO!” he lied, laughing wildly as the pair seemed to attack from all angles. They left practically no spot untickled, it was maddening, but also some of the most fun he’d had in his life! After what felt like an eternity, but also somehow didn’t last nearly long enough, Prismo had had enough. He zoomed just outside of the room, giggling as he caught his breath. “Prismo!” Jake called, “Where’d you go? Are you ok? We didn’t go too far did we?”

“No!” he called back, “I just… I needed a breather!” “We won’t tickle you again!” Finn shouted out, “You can come back!”

“...You won’t make fun of me right?” he asked, “Like, you promise?”

“We promise dude.” Finn answered.

“And we don’t break promises.” Jake added.

Prismo took a deep breath and came back in, looking flustered. “So… I guess that… happened.” “Yeah man! It was awesome!” Jake grinned, patting Prismo’s shoulder. “You took it like a champ! I doubt Finn could last that long with two tickle monsters!”

“I totally could!” the teen protested.

Jake smiled wickedly, “Oh yeah? Prismo, wanna help me out?”

Prismo grinned, moving closer to the kid, “I’m not usually one for revenge plots, but…”

Finn seemed to realize how bad he donked up. “Uh- h-hey now! Let’s talk about this!”

But there was no time to talk, as Jake jumped on his brother and pinned him down. Prismo only paused for a moment, he’d never actually tried to tickle someone, he’d only watched it. But… it couldn’t be that hard! He got his hands onto Finn’s knees, a spot he’d seen Jake tickle him, and began wiggling his fingers. Finn let out a hilariously high pitched scream before he fell into a fit of laughter. “NAAHAHAHAHA! PRISMOHOHOHO!” “What? I’m not doing anything!” he laughed, moving his wiggly fingers to the softer underside of his knees, making Finn scream again.

“Dang son! You’re a natural!” Jake praised, sending butterflies fluttering in Prismo’s belly.

“Awww, gee, thanks Jake.” he smiled sheepishly.

Jake grinned, before he joined in the wrecking, squeezing at Finn’s ribs, sending the boy kicking and shrieking.

“STAHAHHAHAAHAP FLIHIHIHIHRTING!” Finn cackled, which made Prismo splutter, before digging punishingly into the backs of his knees, getting a scream from the teen.

“We’re not flirting! Shut up!” There was no flirting! Jake was just a good friend! Nothing more! Besides, he had Lady…

Jake blew a raspberry on Finn’s belly, getting a loud squeal in return. “I’ll teach you not to make Prismo uncomfortable!”

Prismo laughed, “My hero!”

Jake flexed his arms, stretching them to look like muscles, which made Prismo snort as he giggled at him. Sadly this also distracted the pair from Finn, who promptly tackled Jake and scribbled into his belly. The poor dog immediately burst into bright laughter, his leg adorably kicking at the same time.

“NAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO FAIR!” he cried, snorting as Finn attacked. Finn just grinned evilly and replied, “Too bad!”

Prismo hesitated for a second, but when Finn nodded for him to join, he decided to just go for it! He got his hands behind Jakes ears and began scribbling, making Jake bark in shock before falling into loud laughter.

“PRISMOHOHOHOHO! YOU TRAHAHAHAITOR!” the dog shrieked, kicking his leg and laughing loudly.

Prismo laughed at his friend, “All’s fair in love and war!”

“Especially tickle wars!” Finn agreed.

“YOU WAHAHANT A WAHAHAR!?” Jake cried, before stretching himself away from the pair and quickly attacking their bellies. “I’ll show you a war!”

Prismo shrieked with Finn as his friend tickled them to pieces. He wasn’t complaining though, this was fun! Probably the most fun he’d had in… forever! He never wanted it to end! He was definitely adding some tickle scenes in Fionna and Cake! And well… he’d probably ask Finn and Jake to come by a lot more often.

[hollyhomburg]

I have several ideas about this hours later, such as!!! The beginning when she’s barely showing and it’s just jin there, the rest of the pack asking over face time “so 👀 what’s it like, rooming with a pregnant omega?” And while jin says it’s fine, he says nothing of the quiet late nights sitting side by side on the couch, how when he comes home from schedules she’s usually flushed and cozy looking in her nest, and how it makes jins alpha purr.

they’ve agreed that checking on each other- that jins eaten enough, that she’s resting her swollen ankles- is fair game. What he Definitly doesn’t say is that she came into the packs nest when jinnie was having a nightmare and soothed him to sleep with her gentle humming, his face tucked close to her neck in a way that a strange alpha that she’s only known for a month Definitly should be.

or that jin had felt the baby kick- that it was weird but made him feel all…twisty inside. His big palm on her stomach, the gentlest and the safest he’s felt not only physically but mentally in years.

How he’d come back from a schedule late at night and nearly sent out a private einvestafator to track her down, so riled up and instincts on high that he just- couldn’t quiet his wolf down. That she just told him she was going out for a craving and didn’t think he’s be back before she’d gotten her vanilla ice cream and Cheetos.

I imagine the others start to come back slowly, pausing at the door to the den and realizing /fuck/ the divine smell coming from that spare room- the m/c’s nest- is Litterally just what she smells like all the time and how are they supposed to even think? I’m just thinking about hobi coming home, jin descending and her just waddling by already wearing on of his sweaters because “it smells nice 🥺” and hobi is like- instantly smitten, wants to go to all her pre-natal meetings. Almost has an absolute fit when she stands on a small step stool to paint the nursery and says it’s fine- he can do that, she’s got alphas to do that for her now.

I think they’d both end up in her nest when the nightmares wake them 🥺 nothing more soothing than that milk sweet scent. Maybe pregnant omegas feel more nesting instincts, get sleepier easier, and also feel warmer. Her cheeks constantly cute pink splotches that jin can’t resist pecking, it’s only- friendly affection right?

Especially when namjoon gets home, nose all over sensitive and physically cold from being stationed so far north. Body and heart ready to be thawed by…matching flannel pajamas? And it’s only instincts that they want to feel the baby bump and ask and fuss. Namjoon’s been reading parenting books for ages just to make sure he’s ready to be around a pup.

Her cute little yawns have them ushering her towards her nest, piled high with their clothes because of course they insisted she should get used to their scents. Everyone remarks that she seems to have a preference for jks clothes- strange because she hasnt even met him yet. Over face time- jk says that it’s fine- what we hyungs think is best.

Maybe late at night, standing at the door watching her rest they all kinda confess that…although the pup will be theirs…they sort of wish that…she was theirs too. Something about having an omega around just makes the transition back to idol life so much easier, having someone to fuss and take care of.

Especially once the packs actual pups come back, tae first, whose all wide eyes and “I’m too young to be an appa” “you know you can just be like- uncle tae right?” “Can I teach them how to play the saxophone?” “If you do it outside then yeah” “cool, I’m in.” And then jimin- who basically tries to sweep her off her feet, the charming beta that he is, something about his scent and calming being that makes being 8 months pregnant not all that scary.

And then jungkook comes home, heavy boots in the doorway, he feels- strangely hummy- there’s a scent in the air that makes jk feel on edge. the rest of the pack is making dinner for his home coming, it’s cause for celebration having the whole pack under one roof. Maybe jins shy looks have become shy kisses and touches, a promise that the pack are here for her and the pup for good, regardless of if she returns their feelings.

Maybe they’ve agreed to let her nibble, because if their baby’s hungry then she should eat as much as she needs. And jks just- there suddenly, heavy bag over his shoulder- just home, their faces turning eyes crinkling because finally/ finally the whole pack is in one peice.

There is a stranger in the den, and jks sweatshirt is pulled tight over their baby bump.

The m/c looks up at the dark tattooed stranger as jimin starts to turn and say “honey, this is jk, you’re going to love him” they make eye contact from the doorway, and the m/c realizes yeah- jimin is right because there’s a bond there- a red string of fate pulling tight. A scent that smells better and stronger and more /home/ than any other scent does.

They make eye contact and jks whole world shifts.

(Tw: talking about military stuff, death, pregnancy, implied abuse) I have a super angsty au in mind that is both an idol au and and omegaverse, where alpha! Jin’s second in command sacrifices himself for him, or maybe it’s a training accident gone wrong. It takes place just after everyone in jinnies pack has gone in for service, even the beta’s 🥺

and he comes to know that the man’s omega is with pup and takes on the task of raising them and supporting the omega, going from the tense and sad first meeting where jin can barely see the baby bump under her long fluffy coat and then the devistation when he realizes /oh/ sweet little omega is going to be alone, and his alpha- still mourning and licking his wounds from the trauma of almost war- because it was just mandatory military service right? the only reason why he’s waking up afraid at night isn’t trauma or? Maybe it is? Can you have trauma if you never saw real war?

Maybe she’s got a bit of a secret too- although Jin talks about her mate like he was god gifts to mankind…maybe in secret shes a little glad that he’s dead, because he wasn’t so kind behind closed doors.

I’m just picturing him calling with his packmates, and all of them agreeing that yeah- they should help- because their pack alpha is here and hers isn’t, and they owe it to him for saving their hyung. At least until the pup is old enough for her to work- they can both live in the packs house- a house paid for by their music not just their military salary of course.

I’m just imaging the start of it, jin alone in the big pack house with her that he’s used to being filled with loud and soft love. I bet they’re both very needy behind closed doors, jins out but it feels like he never left and he need- needs someone to look after to make the loneliness not so bad. Imagine the slow lingering touches, at night when he wakes from his night terrors and she’s there smelling sweet and pupped and safe. Pregnant omegas always have a soothing affect on alphas.

Imagine those soft protective looks go hungry eventually, because she looks and smells so sweet as she starts to show more and more, the rest of the pack coming home one by one and realizing /oh/ having a pregnant omega around when they’re all healing and still a little riled up and protective because the military has done a good job of cultivating their protective sides into something lethal is really nice, it’s really nice to have an omega around- because none of them had ever presented as omegas, just 2 betas and 5 alphas.

Of course the love would Combined with a little bit of guilt because if her alpha wasn’t gone- then they wouldn’t have her would they? And she feels too guilty to really let them touch her even though she want it, until… the youngests come home and within 3 hours half of the pack is in rut and she has a pregnancy heat 😩 maybe a touch of fated mates with her and kookie, someone she’d never met before only seen over face time, maybe when she first came there she snuck in to jks room and made a nest with his clothes and didn’t really understand why, but it’s because her omega knew and she didn’t.

[softsnzstuff]

I love your writing and I'm glad you're part of this little corner of snzblr where I live.

Eddissy Headcanon. Chrissy thinks it's cute how sneezy Eddie gets during ragweed season and always carries an extra pack of tissues for him. She also pets his hair and massages away sinus headaches.

❤️ Bewitchedfeathers

Aww thanks for reaching out! This idea is so cute!!! Please enjoy this Edissy Drabble ❤️

*******************************************************

Chrissy arrived at the Munson trailer wearing her cream sweater and red skirt. She had a pumpkin patch date with Eddie today and was so excited. She knocked on the door and waited.

She heard a muffled, “h’MPTCH!” Before the door swung open, “Hey babe! I- hitchiew!! snF tsschiew! I’m so happy to see you!”

Eddie brought her into a hug as he rubbed at his eyes with the sleeve of his flannel.

“Me too, Bless you! Ready to go?”

“Yeah!” Eddie nodded and hopped in his van, Chrissy sitting in the passenger seat. “What kind of pumpkin are you looking for Chris?”

“I want a cute one.” She pictured a perfect, smooth pumpkin with a small stump.

Eddie chuckled, “A cute one” he mimicked. “I wanna find one that’s snFF the best for carving! I think I want to carve some bahhh b- H’tsssciew! Issshew! H’Nxxt! Bats…”

The strawberry blonde reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “Bless you. Bad allergy day?”

The older boy didn’t move his wrist from in front of his nose, “yeah, the ragweed is killing m’be today.”

Chrissy rummaged around in her purse and pulled out the travel sized pack of tissues she kept on hand for her boyfriend. She plucked one from the small pack and turned to hand it to him.

Eddie’s eyes were watering and his breath started to hitch. She pressed the tissue into his hand just in time.

“HIH’TSCHMpt! HNNGtchew!” He blew his nose, one hand still on the wheel, and coughed slightly.

“Poor guy. Are you sure you want to do this today?” She knew his allergies would only get worse once they got out to the pumpkin patch.

“Yeah! Of course. A few sneezes won’t stop Eddie the Banished!”

A few minutes later they were pulling up to the field. Kids were running around picking pumpkins, lining up for the hay rides, and trying their hand at the corn maze.

“Chris, we HAVE to do this corn maze!” Eddie shouted, grabbing her by the hand and running. “You try first!”

Chrissy started to walk through, looking for open paths. 9 times out of 10 though, she was met with a ten foot tall wall of corn stalks. She heard a rustle behind her and jumped slightly, turning around to be met with an empty wall of corn.

“GOTCHA!” Eddie jumped out and grabbed her from behind, leaning back and lifting her up as she kicked her legs.

“Eddie!!” They both laughed as he put her down.

The two exited the maze, Eddie only stopping to stifle into his shoulder twice. Once they reached the pumpkin patch, they took off looking for the perfect pumpkin. Eddie found his quite fast, a very big pumpkin with a twisty stem and warts on the side.

“Babe this one’s perfect!” He laughed as he made his way over to Chrissy who was looking at a few different small options.

She knelt down and picked one up. “What do you think of this one Eddie?” She called over her shoulder. No response. “Eddie?”

She turned around to see that Eddie had put his pumpkin on the ground and was fighting back a sneeze. He pitched forward suddenly, one hand on his knee and the other a fist in front of his mouth.

“Heh Nxxt! Nxxt! Hih H’NXXT!”

Chrissy lay her hand on his back rubbing circles as he bobbed with each near silent sneeze. “Eddie I-”

He held up a finger to pause her. “Hehh Not dhhh- done. NGtsschiew! AGKtssiew!”

He straightened up but swayed on his feet slightly. Chrissy wrapped an arm around his waist and used her other hand at his elbow to steady him. “Here, sit for a minute. I’m gonna go buy our pumpkins and we can leave. I’ll drive.”

She sat her boyfriend down on a small wooden bench that was up against the fence bordering the pumpkin patch. Eddie felt the small pick of tissues being pressed into his hand as she jogged off to pay. He thought it was so cute how she carried these on her 24/7, just for him.

Chrissy made it back in record time, finding Eddie with his elbows resting on his knees, punching the bridge of his nose. “You okay, Eds?”

He looked up at her and grabbed one of her hands. “Yeah. Just a sin’dus headache.”

“Well let’s get you and your cool pumpkin home then and I’ll give you a massage for that headache.” She smiled and he smiled back.

“You’re too good to m’be, Chrissy Cuddinghab.” He swiped at his nose with his one free hand and stood up.

Still holding hands, they made their way back to the van with the pumpkins, Chrissy taking the wheel. “Do you need anything?” She asked Eddie.

Eddie turned to her with red eyes and nose swollen. He held up the small pack of tissues and kissed her forehead. “I’ve got everything I need right here.”

[dotster001]

Hi, I’m Corrina. I am requesting the matchup if it is still available for twisted wonderland. I’m 5’5 1/2”. I’m an Infp, April 5th is my bday, Aries here. I’m natural blond but always always always dye my hair red. I’m a shy introverted person who sadly also has a lot of mental issues ( ptsd, depression, anxiety) from being bullied and abused by peers, family and even plenty of friends and ex relationships. I have severe trust issues due to this as well (my motto: never trust anyone). I hate it but it is what it is. I’m weird once you get to know me and I’m comfortable with you. I love rain and thunderstorms. I love music ( French pop-angele, l.e.j. ; heck I like just about anything except rap and country) I love swords anything fantasy based like lord of the rings, or wheel of time series! I love horror movies, pretty much anything dark and twisty! I love reading just don’t as much thanks to work. I love playing games like sims 4. I do not dance, I look hilarious and stupid, I have two left feet! 😂😂 I am left handed speaking of left. I would like a romantic match if possible, if it is still going on. I saw one of your match makers and loved it! I hope I have done this right.

(yo a LOTR fan? Fuck yeah 😎 my ace ring is a black "one ring" and I have a frodo build a bear that I bring with me to the doctor so I don't pass out when I do blood tests. I'm so happy you liked my matches! Hopefully this lives up to the hype)

I match you with Azul Ashengrotto.

Just trust me bro.

Mans is in a board game club. He's a fucking nerd. You can't tell me otherwise. So he is into watching fantasy stuff with you. Tell him all about the Lord of the Rings. He's already thinking about a way to market it in Twisted Wonderland. He'll find you fantasy media from his world, but for a price. (The price is a kiss. Please give him a kiss. He'll die in a good way.)

Show him the sims 4. Just do it. He'll create a thriving business in game. Wait, why are you looking at his unnamed save file? Don't do that! Okay, yeah, he made the two of you, and yeah you two are married, and yeah, you have two dogs named Jade and Floyd, and yeah, he is playing your happy little househusband, but it's not what it looks like!

He gets not trusting people. Until he met Jade and Floyd, he had no friends, and trusted no one. He was bullied, and it affects how he puts himself out there to this day. He doesn't want you to feel that way anymore. The two of you help each other grow and feel loved. He works hard to make sure you always feel safe, and wanted, and respected. And in return, your love helps him on his own healing path. It's cute for people on the outside to watch.

He loves reading too, and understands how being busy makes it hard to have time for. So the two of you work together, and come up with a plan, where every Wednesday from 6-7 you both keep your schedule clear and read together. If it becomes a cuddle sesh in the process then so be it. Azul isn't complaining.

You're outside in the rain, desperately trying to get your prim and proper boyfriend to join you.

"You won't melt, Azul. It's just rain," you giggled, playfully pulling his arm to try and make him stand in the rain with you.

"I won't melt, but my suit might, it's quite expensive, angelfish," he grimaced.

"Okay, okay, we'll compromise."

You take off his hat and coat, and gently lay them under the Ramshackle porch where they won't get wet. Then you resume your pulling.

He sighs heavily, before giving in and stepping into the rain with you. But he quickly gets a smug smile as he pulls you tightly to him, and begins swaying back and forth while humming softly.

"You know I don't dance," you pout.

"We're not dancing, we're swaying. It's a rather large difference," he hums.

You look up at him and see his soft smile. You gently push a strand of his now soaked hair behind his ear, and press your head to his chest, laughing inwardly as you hear his heartbeat pick up speed.

You both stand there like that until Jade and Floyd find you, and decide to mercilessly tease Azul.

[liz-allyn]

shudder, part 3/6 [agent mobius x gn!reader]

You're undercover on a mission with the team, and Mobius' affinity for cowboy culture is making things unexpectedly difficult.

Part 1 | Part 2

Series Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.

Words: 1.6k

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Language, period/canon-typical gun violence, cowboy!Mobius (valid as a warning), mutual pining, flirting, fluffy and fun, at least one naughty thought.

A/N: let me know how you feel about longer chapters!

III.

The next time it happened, it was 1881, and you looked ridiculous.

Your clothes were too tight and the leather smelled like the cattle you were wearing was still alive. You didn’t get to pick your uniform for this mission, and since you were supposed to be deep undercover in an active timeline scenario where reset charges were not permitted, wearing a TVA-issued “Variant” jacket wasn’t going to work.

So now here you were, sweating your ass off in what would one-day become the Las Vegas desert, with your partner wearing a giant 10 gallon hat holding a revolver to your back. He definitely looked ridiculous, and you let him know that. But to be fair, it was almost... cute. Sort of.

Variant T-3051 was the target, this stagecoach robbery at gunpoint was the trap, a Skrull artifact locked in a safe was the bait. And you were technically also bait, disguised as the hapless hostage.

Mobius laid it on extra thick for this one; you were pretty sure he was enjoying himself.

“Easy does it, fellas,” he said in a honeyed voice. “Everyone move nice and slow.” With one hand on your shoulder and one hand on the gun trained on your back, he urged you forward with a gentle double-squeeze near your collarbone. It was a little secret communication between you two. “Keep your hands up where I can see ‘em, sweet thing.”

You struggled not to overtly roll your eyes as you lifted your hands slightly higher. You were 99% sure that Mobius had never held a revolver in his life and probably didn’t know how to fire one. The man’s idea of excitement is debating top historical time periods at lunch with you or fantasizing about jet skis. Or whatever he fantasizes about.

You glanced at the team around you, a mix of Minutemen led by B-15 - on a giant ass horse holding a rifle steady with only her eyes visible behind a black bandana, and a band of outlaw civilians who were T-minus 9 minutes from their destined massacre. The mission, simply, was that one of these people was not like the others.

U-91, also dressed as a Frontierland cast member, barked an order to hand over the chest or else. While he was monologuing on about whatever “else” was, you were scanning the group carefully waiting for the Skrull variant to reveal himself. Or you were, until—

“Hey,” you heard Mobius softly whisper behind you. You glanced to the side without turning around as he leaned closer to you. “Nice work infiltrating the gang.”

You could feel the heat of his breath on the side of your neck, and your stomach was doing something odd because of it.

“Okay,” you whispered back, trying not to move your lips. “Now is an inappropriate time to—”

“Where did you learn to ride a horse like that?” he exclaimed under his breath. “That was incredible.”

You weren’t sure if it was the anxiety of the situation, the harsh sun off the surrounding mountain range, or his praise that was making your skin flush.

“Um,” you softly replied, taken aback that he was actually impressed, “I mean- my aunt used to have this pony ride business. They’d do birthday parties—”

U-91 snapped at you, the talkative hostage, “Hey! I said shut up!”

Mobius reared back his grip on your shoulder and suddenly you crashed back into his chest. You cried out as he wrapped his arms like a vise around you.

“That’s right, I said shut your trap!” he hissed at you, playing to the audience around him.

It wasn’t often that he got to play the bad guy, but he gave it a valiant effort. You could feel the (hopefully) unloaded barrel against your back. He brought his other hand up to your throat, firmly squeezing, pulling a gasp from you.

He leaned into your body, pulling you tightly against him, as he dripped sugar-coated poison in your ear. “Not another peep outta you, ya hear?”

The first thought that sprang through your head was remembering your kink for authoritative bad boys.

Uh-oh, was the second, third, and fourth thought in your mind.

Your core was tight and you realized how heavily you were breathing when his grip loosened slightly from your throat, slipping down just a tad. You felt the warmth of his hand and resting on the skin of your chest. B-15 was already giving orders, but your brain wasn’t following the conversation anymore.

“Are you okay?” Mobius breathed in your ear. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You slowly exhaled the heat of your breath, shaking your head ‘no’ and ‘yes’ for some reason. You could feel your pulse thrumming in your neck and you knew he could feel it too.

“Did I scare you?” he asked, inquisitively. You could hear the edge of a grin in his voice.

Your brow furrowed. “What?”

“Did I scare you just now?” Your eyes darted back to the group of outlaws as B-15 began to round them up. You were definitely supposed to be paying attention to the mission, but all you could think about was how heavy his hand was on your chest. He could curl you into himself if he wanted to.

If he wanted to, and if you wanted him to, he could keep playing cowboy outlaws. He could steal you away from your bed in the middle of the night. Or maybe he could turn you in for a bounty and visit you while you’re locked in a jail cell, making you do favors for him in exchange for freedom…

Uh-oh.

He leaned in a little closer. You could feel the shadow of his lips at the nape of your neck. “I felt you shudder just now... Did you get scared?”

“No!” You replied, almost too loudly.

“Oh. Are you cold?”

“What? Why?”

“I mean, if you’re trembling and it’s not because you’re cold, and it’s not because you’re frightened, there must be some kind of reason, right?”

Your face was burning. You’re pretty sure it’s the sun. Heat stroke. You’re dying, probably, definitely, maybe.

You gritted your teeth. “Why. Are. We. Talking about this?!”

“It’s not me, is it?” he replied coolly, like taking a sip of bourbon and lemonade on a hot day. You could hear the smirk on his lips. “You’re not intimidated by me, are you?” His cast his eyes over your rosy cheek with a satisfied gaze. “Maybe I make you a little... nervous?”

“WHA’THUH HELL—?” A terrified twang rang out and you both were snatched out of the clouds. You looked up to see a green-faced cowboy, cow-Skrull? Skrull-boy? - hostile variant reach into the the side holster of one of his outlaw posse. As soon as the Skrull had his hands on his “partner’s” weapon, he shot his partner through the back, killing him (just a few minutes before his time).

Variant T-3051 was fast. As B-15 fired her rifle, he was already pulling another stunned outlaw in front of him as a shield. T-3051 raised his gun towards B-15 and fired towards her horse. The animal raised up on its hind legs, bucking her off.

“Take cover!” Mobius ordered, pulling you down with him, but there wasn’t much around.

T-3051 fired a shot blindly, striking U-91 in the arm. He dropped to the ground and crawled in a one-arm dash for cover.

In the chaotic confusion and fear, the other outlaws drew their weapons and began to fire on the TVA team and each other.

The horse that B-15 was riding began to trot off, trampling a fleeing outlaw. B-15 struggled to grab her weapon off of the ground, but T-3051’s boot dropped down on the rifle, pinning it beneath his foot. She looked up to see the barrel of T-3051’s gun pointed at her, sights trained.

You had already grabbed the single-action revolver out of Mobius’ hand. He reached for you, but you leapt out of hiding with his gun raised high.

You shot the gun out of the variant’s hand before he could fire. Stunned, T-3051 dropped backwards onto the ground as the other handful of living outlaws turned their attention towards you. With one hand rapidly pulling back the hammer as the other hand steadied your aim and squeezed the trigger, you knocked them down like bowling pins.

A few shots later and it was over. T-3051 attempted to crawl towards the stagecoach, but B-15 leapt on his back and collared him. With a push of the button, he was frozen in time.

“Target acquired,” she stated into a radio, winded from the skirmish.

Mobius jogged towards U-91 as he pulled himself to his feet. He deftly inspected the Minuteman’s injury. “U-91 is injured,” he reported into his own communications device. “Alert the infirmary. B-15?”

“All clear,” she nodded.

Mobius’ eyes searched the area frantically until they rested on you. You walked up to the safe as B-15 retrieved the alien artifact - a twisty, metallic, (oddly) phallic-shaped thing.

You snorted. “This is the bomb that could rip a planet in half?” you asked incredulously.

If you didn’t know any better, you thought you saw the tiniest smile on B-15’s lips. She radioed in, “Artifact is secure.”

Grinning with an amused chuckle, you glanced over and spotted Mobius gazing at you proudly, watching the sun rise and set in your smile. You felt your cheeks flush, dropping your eyes to the ground and biting your lip. God, this was bad. He could not look at you like that.

“Incredible,” you heard him breathe.

Part 4

A/N: Did you like it? Reblog & let me know! Also seriously, I feel like my chapters are getting long. If that’s a bummer for anyone, please say so.

@aloyssia @generalhugzzz

[fishybehavior]

@kittydemon9000 's original spbnr au, but with a lil twisty twist!! (with their permission of course) Based off the Kai!verse version of spbnr au

- - - -

tw: slight blood, and Aki is not good with children

-

“Keep the red ninja alive, and make sure he doesn’t go home.” That had been Aki’s orders, but something must’ve gone wrong. Cause the fearless red ninja, the one he was a copy of- was making airplane noises as he ran around in circles.

He was now a small toddler, no older than 2 or 3, laughing and screaming as if his very existence didn’t bring disgust to Aki. He was looking forward to this. Aki would finally get time on his own, thinking Kai would be his usual age, he wouldn't have to worry about him unless he tried to escape. But now? He had to watch the brat. If he got injured so did he, if he ran off and got himself killed in this world, he would die too. Meaning he was stuck babysitting the guy he hated most.

Watching the brat play while screaming and laughing and it was starting to get on his nerves, but the sun would be setting soon, and he needed somewhere for him-- for them to sleep. Grabbing the kid's hand, he pulled him along, ignoring his whining as Aki looked for a good place to hunker down.

----

“Ow, ow ow!” Kai whined. They had been walking for a while and were near the edges of the city. Aki's own feet were starting to hurt from the wandering. Looking down at his charge, he met with a pout and a pair of adorable eyes holding his arms out. “Pick me up?”

“Cute. Y’know if I had a soul, you’d have an argument. Now c’mon we’re losing daylight.” Aki pulled the kid again, he was lagging behind but he just made sure he had a grip on his tiny hand as he marched onward. He thought about taking an alleyway as a shortcut, but most seem to be dead ends. Looking into one, he saw two figures; someone in a green jacket seemed to be getting mugged.

“Sucks to be him,” he muttered, walking away.

“Bwother!!”

Aki turned, seeing the toddler running towards the mugging. He watched, frozen in shock for a second as the child ran, trying to grab the mugger's knife. Surprising the guy and making him sweep his knife hand back. Aki felt pain flare in his face as the child screamed, and it broke him from his stupor.

Rushing the guy he tackled him into the wall, and the guy crumpled as the impact knocked the wind out of him. Grabbing his knife before he recovered, he held it to the guy's throat.

“Wait wait, don’t-”

“I won't do anything if you leave now and forget about all of this.” Aki hissed, and the guy scurried as soon as he finished. Threat gone, Aki took note of the rest of the scene. He heard crying and looking behind him he could see the guy in the green jacket comforting Kai, who was clinging to him like a lifeline.

The two made eye contact, and Aki almost recoiled. That was Lloyd, no wonder the kid did something so stupid. He growled and Lloyd jerked in surprise. “If you don't wanna end up like him, I suggest you run too.” And that got the kid to back off, making the kid cry harder as he backed away. Making Lloyd hesitate, concern in his eyes.

“Scram!” Aki screamed, and he was gone.

Leaving him alone with a screaming toddler.

“Kid, stop.” But Kai just ignored him. He probably couldn’t hear him with how loud he was being.

“Shut up!” He snapped but that only seemed to make him scream and cry more. At this rate, the noise was going to attract attention, or worse, cops.

Groaning, he crouched down so he was about eye level with the kid, he could see the cut on his cheek bleeding. “Uh, hey kid. It's ok, I chased off the guy. You can stop crying now,” he said calmly if a little awkwardly. He’s never had to comfort anyone before. Yet it seemed to kinda work, the screaming toned down, but the kid was still loudly crying.

“Uhh, hey. If you stop crying, I’ll carry you the rest of the way.” He bartered. They needed to get out of here fast, his gut screaming at him that he’s been out in the open too long.

But his promise caught Kai’s attention, tears were still falling, but his blubbering had mostly stopped. The kid lifted his arms, tiny hands making a grabby motion towards Aki. Sighing in relief, he picked up the little guy, who buried his head into his shoulder. Making sure he was comfortable, Aki set off again, looking for somewhere to sleep and now somewhere to patch them both up.

[theplaceicommitmysins]

The Call - Reader X Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)

This is the first time I’ve ever written angst and it’s for the Don’t Go Breaking My Heart Collab! (Congrats on 1k Bee!!) I hope I’ve done alright?? It’s a new genre for me ngl - Hopefully it’s knife twisty enough to satisfy uwu

Not beta’d.

No gendered language is used (I think)

Wordcount: 2,164

Contains:  Second Person (Third? It’s Hizashi’s POV but reader is always referred to in 2nd) SFT, heavy angst, reader death, descriptions of blood and injuries, fridge-ing trope, I think that’s it??

Summary/Excerpt: “Do you want to see them again?” The caller’s voice has returned to how it was before, quiet and reserved.

Hizashi has to swallow to stop himself from throwing up. His eyes flick to where the phone lines are going crazy.

“Yes.”

A glance to the clock on the wall and a deep breath.

“4:30 in the morning Listeners, you know what that means! After this next song is over it’s time to hear from some of you lovely callers! You can call or text the number on my website, PYHUR.co.jp for the uninitiated few, and I’ll do my very best to get to you!” He presses a button and the next song starts.

Then he pulls his headphones off with a groan.

Hizashi is exhausted. His own voice grating on his ears in this mostly soundproofed broadcasting booth as he sips cheap coffee that’s long since gone cold. Don’t get him wrong, he loves his job, wouldn’t still be doing it if he didn’t but ever since you’d moved in, hell, ever since he started dating you it’s been itching at him a little more. There’s this whiny voice in the back of his head telling him that he’s wasting precious time here when he could just be with you.

Three full time jobs take a lot out of a man but you never mind.

A smile stretches across his face as he kicks back in his seat, muscle memory dropping his feet onto the one spot on the table where he won’t hit any buttons.

He knows when he gets home you’ll be in his bed, in his shirt. You’ll wake up when he unlocks the front door, light sleeper that you are, and be sitting up and waiting for him by the time he’s made it to the room.

And you’ll be so damn cute blinking at him with sleepy but warm eyes and reaching for him with grabby hands. His side of the bed will be warm, cause you always sleep there ‘til he gets home. You’ll hold his hands in your perfect ones, smaller than his, and kiss each and every one of his fingers. You’ll tell him welcome home and goodnight and snuggle up to his chest and be asleep before he can say it back.

You’ve been doing the same thing every night for a whole year now, and every night he still feels as happy as the first.

One time you told him you worried that he might just be in the honeymoon phase. That there might come a day when you pull him into your arms at night and he loves you less for it.

Hizashi burst out laughing in your face.

Then spent ten minutes apologizing and frantically doing a hearing check while you smooshed his cheeks between those hands he can’t stop thinking about and insisted you were fine.

Fuck, he loves you so much.

He’s tempted to text you but resists, though his thumb hovers over your name in his phone where it sits at the top of his favorites. At least one of you should be getting some sleep from time to time.

He’s so tired he almost doesn’t notice the song ending. Jumps a bit when the switchboard lights up and the phones start ringing.

If you didn’t make him so damn happy he’d say you throw him off his game, but you do so he won’t. Though now he has to pick from the lines that are lighting up at random, having lost the privilege of screening them first.

It’s only thanks to over a decade of practice that he so easily snaps back into his DJ persona and he calls out, “Yo, yo, yo Listener! You’re on Put Your Hands Up Radio! Care to make some noise?!”

“Present Mic.” A girls voice, quiet and reserved. He always thinks it’s sweet when he gets fans like that. It reminds him how universal music can be, connecting us all together.

“The one and only, Listener! So, first request of the night-”

“You ruined my life.”

“…Uh- I don’t think I’m following-”

“He’s gone because of you. You and the rest of those worthless caped fucks that strut around thinking they have the right-” Her voice is going up steadily, until she’s practically shrieking down the receiver, “All he did was steal a motorcycle and you chased him into goddamn traffic-”

His heart drops into his stomach. He remembers who she’s talking about. A wannabe villain who was trying to prove a point picking fights with heroes. The report said he was 20. Just a kid. “I’m sorry.” And he is, “Listener, I’m going to have to take you off air. There are counseling services-”

“So I’m going to ruin your life too.”

The phonelines are flashing as more calls pour in and he’s getting a bad feeling about where this is going. Knows he needs to end this now. But then another voice comes over the line. Strained and scared and-

“Hizashi.”

No.

“Found your favorite Little Listener outside the broadcasting station. I was coming to get you but this works out even better for me. Now you get to live with the consequences.”

He can barely understand what she’s saying. Her voice like static and his mind a scratched record as he thinks on repeat, You should be in bed. You should be at home. You-

His chair clatters to the floor with a bang as he steps out of it, palm hitting the wall as he nearly falls over, his legs fighting to take his weight, “Whatever you want-”

“I want you to feel what I felt-”

“So talk to me! Don’t- Don’t hurt them, just-” Years of training to deescalate, to handle hostage situations with ease, all go out the window when he hears you scream.

“Stop interrupting me, Voice Hero! And you, pipe down. This isn’t about you noisy brat.”

His nails dig into his palm as he makes a fist, shaking with rage and fear, “If you so much as look at them wrong I’ll-”

“You’ll what?”

For a moment, radio silence. Then-

“...Tch.” There’s a choking sound. A shriek. A thud.

He can hear a whimper that he knows is yours and he punches the glass of the booth so hard his knuckles split.

“Do you want to see them again?” The caller’s voice has returned to how it was before, quiet and reserved.

Hizashi has to swallow to stop himself from throwing up. His eyes flick to where the phone lines are going crazy.

“Yes.”

“Go down the Yokosuka Line for Tokyo at Shimbashi Station. You have ten minutes.”

“Hiz-”

The line goes dead.

He doesn’t even turn off the broadcast before he starts to run.

Every Friday he comes in for work from that station. It’s about a 14 minute walk from there to the studio.

It takes him six minutes.

There’s police cars with sirens on when he gets there and a cop starts to approach him, calling out his hero name, but he ignores him. Ignores everything but the sign postings directing him down, down the stairs and underground to the tunnel.

When somebody grabs his arm, another cop, he yells, “Get off of me!” and people go flying.

Nobody tries it again.

At least he thinks they don’t.

It’s too bright down here. It’s too sterile. Fluorescents illuminating the space with an eerie hospital like quality as he flies past onlookers, cuts a right onto the tracks and heads down the second tunnel.

They’ve probably delayed the trains, what with the broadcasted possibility of somebody being on the tracks.

He doesn’t actually care though.

He just has to get to you.

The tunnel curves ahead.

He rounds the corner.

He sees you.

He stops breathing.

You’re hanging from the ceiling, just far enough around the corner that the only reason he didn’t slam into you carried by the momentum of his sprint was pure luck. One of your wrists is tangled up and pinned in the barbed wire that’s wrapped around your throat. The palm of your hand looks mangled. Those perfect hands this fit the space in his like a puzzle piece resembling raw meat more than human skin.

There’s blood all over your throat and the front of your shirt- No. His shirt. It’s dark and thick and it’s completely saturated to your waist, but not spreading any farther. The bleeding has stopped.

He can tell you’d tried to keep the wire from digging in with your hands but nobody can hang their own weight off of barbed wire for long. Especially not a civilian.

The closest thing you had to training was helping him with warm up stretches and the occasional tickle fight.

Based on the gouges in your fingers and neck it got slippery at some point.

And you’d been crying. There’s tear tracks staining your cheeks. Blood too.

He thinks of all the times he’s seen you cry. All the times he’s kissed tears from the corners of your eyes and your cheeks and your jaw. Happy tears, usually. He’d go out of his way to make you laugh to the point of tears just so he could kiss them away. You always said it was romantic.

Your eyes are still open.

They don’t look sleepy or warm.

Or scared.

They don’t look like much of anything.

He reaches out to press his fingers between yours. To hold your hands.

Even the blood is cold.

You’d probably been dead since moment the caller hung up.

Hizashi takes in a breath.

And he screams.

He screams and screams and screams until he can feel his quirk kick off. The difference in sound jarring and wrong as he hears his own voice get quieter and the echoes in the tunnels trail off.

“Hizashi.” A strong scarred hand wraps around his shoulder to pull him away but he shrugs it off violently. His fingers dig in tighter between yours as full body sobs tear through him. “Hizashi you need to let go. Forensics will want to take them down. They need to look for physical evidence-”

And he doesn’t know why he does it, but something about the monotone of his oldest friends voice, the professionalism he’s managed to maintain snaps something in him, and he turns around and swings, fist aimed directly for his best friends nose.

But Shouta just catches his hand and pulls him further away from you by the arm.

“No! Let me go- I’m not leaving, let go!”

He doesn’t know if he’s coherent through the tears and the rage and the overwhelming waves of stark agony that he’s absolutely drowning in but Eraserhead ignores him. Just focuses unblinkingly on him as he wrestles him away from your- From you.

It ends up taking three cops and Aizawa together to hold him against the wall of the tunnel long enough to remove your- to remove you from the crime scene. To set you on a gurney and pull a cloth over your face.

“I’ll kill her-” He feels like he’s choking. Every so often Shouta’s quirk lets up and Hizashi yells just to feel something. Doesn’t give a shit who’s ears bleed for it.

It hurts. He tastes blood. He smells it too. Sees it. It coats his hands and the floor and you-

“No you won’t.” It’s that monotone again, so at odds with the look of pain twisted across his oldest friends face. Like he’s the one who’s world just ended, hanging lifelessly from unforgiving wire.

His hands feel numb where they touched yours.

It must’ve hurt, he thinks. Dying like that.

You’re pulled further away from him. Wheeled out of sight around the bend of the tunnel.

Hizashi goes slack against the hold on him and Shouta’s grip slowly transitions into a crushing hug as he tries to ground his friend, shaking from the rage and pain and cold.

Your hands were so cold.

He always knew this was a possibility. Jokingly warned you that it could happen. At least he told you it was a joke as he voiced the loudest of all his fears one night, fingers twined with yours. But you told him he was worth it. Called him your hero.

You said you knew he would always save you.

Blood stained fingers twist into the back of Shouta’s hero costume as he goes quiet. There was no point yelling. It wouldn’t change anything. And his throat hurts. Hurts like it’s been wrapped in barbed wire. Hurts like he screamed until the taste of his own blood overpowered the smell of yours.

He knows the protocol. He thinks about the statement he’s going to have to give. The paperwork he’s going to have to fill out. The bed he’s going to fall into when he gets home, hours later than he’d planned.

He thinks about how his spot is going to be cold.

Hizashi takes a moment to catch his breath.

Then he thinks about exactly how he’s going to kill the caller when he finds her.

Because he is going to find her.

And she is going to die.

Slowly.

[pallasperilous]

Boneless Wings

 {AO3 version}

So, blah blah blah, it’s their standard-issue disaster: pack of dumbass witches (always with the dumbass witches. Where do they find the time for this shit? Somebody get these women signed up for a Peloton subscription or a macramé class or a vibrator of the month club, seriously, whatever it takes—), ancient curse, Castiel being the actual angel of stepping in it, nobody cares. 

The point is, two hundred and forty-one hours of binge-worthy drama later, Dean and Cas are living in a semi-detached just a short thirty-minute commute to somewhere equally lame, Castiel has two literal-ass wings, and yes, Susan, they kiss now. 

The neighbors are weirdly cool with it. 

For those of you perving along at home, Dean could absolutely provide a list of the hundred or so ways that having a boyfriend* with giant fucking actual wings is super hot and/or awesome.

This is not that list.

(*you can just shut right the fuck up , Sam, because it’s either this or Dean will start saying lover. And nobody needs that. Nobody wants that.)

1.  Bird mites. Holy shit. 

 2.  Sharing a bathroom. The shower curtain rod, and consequently the security deposit, are early casualties. The medicine cabinet follows swiftly behind. Shower hijinks are not even an option.

 3.  Dean comes home one day from a gig and there is a giant plastic green turtle in the backyard. A closer inspection reveals that the turtle is actually a mule for about half a truck bed of industrial dust ‘n grit. It is, in fact, a kiddie sandbox. Dean points out that they do not, in fact, have a small child (FINGERS CROSSED), so...?

Cas then earnestly shows him an entire playlist of exotic birdy dust bath videos on Youtube. 

Dean then earnestly shows him the garden hose. 

4.  The down just gets, like...everywhere. EVERYWHERE. How many times have Sam and Dean practically sold their kidneys for a single angel feather for some dumb spell to solve some pointless Occult McProblem? And now Dean is picking them out of his damn teeth every morning. (No, gross, not because of... Jesus, no, that is not a thing.)

On the upside of this one, Dean finally has an excuse to buy a Dyson, which he’s secretly always thought looked awesome. It is. 

 5.  When Dean is scraping out the umpteenth canister of fluff he jokingly suggests they use some of it to supplement the tragically flaccid down comforter currently shaming their bed, and Castiel pitches an existential fucking sulk. Dean wants to experience happiness again, so he does not point out that it get ass-bitingly cold here this time of year, and decent bedding is not exactly inexpensive, and the Dyson kind of maxed them out on household purchases.

But whatever.

 6.  Castiel is indulging in what Dean thinks of as a sky pout when he flies right into a head-on with li’l Timmy NextDoor’s new Christmas surveillance drone. It dings the shit out of one of Cas’s left primary feathers (the scientific term is “those big motherfuckers”), which apparently hurts like a bitch. Cas is grounded for a few weeks after that and is cutely pathetic about it and at first Dean is absolutely down to kiss it better. By the end, Dean is almost ready to strangle Cas with his own necktie, but he has learned a lot of surprisingly interesting stuff about ancient Mesopotamia, like that it was super horny.

 7.  After the snow melts, Dean starts finding shit on the front step with the morning paper. It’s not even a good newspaper; Cas signed them up for the local fish-wrapper (or maybe it was Sam, before he fled for the hills— he occasionally breaks out in a  “support local journalism” rash). The crossword puzzle is insulting, but the paper does at least syndicate Carolyn Hax, whom Dean secretly suspects of being an absolute wildcat in the sack, so he grudgingly expends the calories to bring it in every morning. 

Anyway, at first the stuff he discovers crapping up the welcome mat is just shiny bits of trash — couple granola wrappers, some MGD pull-tabs, a few field-stripped twisty-ties. Probably just windblown, and he tosses it in the garbage can. 

Then a couple weeks in, things start getting...grisly? It escalates real slowly, from a variety platter of mouse bits to squirrel à la power line and then half of a dry-aged raccoon and an opossum that has recently graduated from playing dead to professional dead-being. The neighborhood crows obviously love that their front step is now a roadkill café; Dean has to bat increasing numbers of them away with the kitchen broom in order to relocate their horrible snack to the edge of the nearest storm drain.

Then one morning there are like twenty crows and they’re in just the cutest little football huddle-up around what turns out to be a human fucking finger with a retro-fun mood ring still on the knuckle (it’s feeling: Sad) and Dean fully loses his shit. 

Cas hears him freaking out and comes whomping out of the garage ready to, whatever, flap somebody to death maybe, but as soon as he establishes that Dean doesn’t need anything more than a fresh pair of boxers, he de-poofs a bit and assesses the whole human finger/crows situation in his usual infuriatingly unrushed way. The crows had mostly bounced up to the cable line over the house, safely out of brooming range, but one by one they start to drop down and hippity-hop back towards the world’s tiniest crime scene.

If Dean were five percent less freaked he’d be tempted to go inside and find out how much of a dent he can make in a six-pack before Castiel finally dings and spits out his results, but he isn’t, so he just stands there in silence clutching the broom like it’s a shotgun.

Eventually Cas says “hm,” and then he looks at the crows and makes some noises that sound like a spoon caught in a garbage disposal, and the crows make some scrawps and chuks back, and then one of them delicately noodges the tip of dead finger with its beak and then hippity hops back a foot or two, bows, and then they all fly away over the shitty little beige duplex across the street like they’re running ten minutes late to an important bird appointment.

Castiel stands up (Dean reflexively backs up into the doorway, as this involves Cas bomfing out his wings a bit for ballast and Dean has caught a blow to the nuts on more than one occasion), dusts off his goddamn slacks, pulls a plastic evidence baggie out of thin goddamn air or maybe his socks, and casually bags the finger like they’re doing a standard FBI wheeze. “So what,” Dean says, as Cas diligently zips the baggie, “the fuck?”

“Oh,” Cas says, blinking in surprise that Dean is still there and interested, “they think I’m their god.”

Dean kind of stares back at him, the six feet of dude and like sixteen feet of bird, and thinks sure, okay, but his face must still be stuck on “Tippi Hedren attic scene” because Cas puts a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder and adds “Don’t worry. I’ve told them I don’t require further offerings, and I reassured them that you’re my consort and were simply jealous of other potential mates.”

It takes Dean two weeks to come up with a response to that, but by then it’s become evident that no bird is ever going to shit on the Impala again, so he decides to just chalk it up in the win column and move on.

You know. The family business.

8.  No matter how tightly he folds them, Cas can’t fit his wings through the definitely-not-up-to-code doorway of the wood-paneled family rec room in the basement, so Dean claims it as his man cave and dubs it the “No Fly Zone.” 

Castiel doesn’t find this funny, but Dean really only uses it to fold laundry. 

 9.  Transpo is an obvious issue. Cas can almost stuff himself into the Impala if he sort of reverse-cowgirls the back seat, but then the wingtips smoosh up against the windshield and Dean’s visibility is approximately zip. And, sure, Cas could fly himself anywhere they really needed to go, he’s basically a Chevy Of The Air, but sometimes it’s raining, and the seraph Castiel — Shield of God, Heavenly Soldier of the Lord, multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, will smell like a wet fucking chicken for days afterward. Febreze does not help.

Dean spends a few nauseating weeks contemplating the purchase of — and here he learns that the human gag reflex can be conditioned, but never truly eradicated — a convertible. Once Cas brings up the possibility of a minivan or perhaps a station wagon (he’s taken to studying family motor vehicles with all the intensity of a birder with a life list) and Dean makes him sleep on the couch.

Dean gets his own living room rotation after he shows Cas a Craigslist posting for a very reasonably priced horse trailer. Castiel points out that it’s used and Dean notes that neither of them is exactly mint in original packaging either. Castiel points out that he’s not a horse, and after a few necessary but admittedly unoriginal jokes, Dean pulls up a website with an exhaustive photographic tutorial on how to convert a horse trailer “for the safe and sanitary transport of ostriches, emus, and/or cassowaries.” Cas points out that he’s not an ostrich, emu, and/or cassowary, and Dean counters that he clearly isn’t, because an emu would probably show a little more gratitude, and that’s how Dean learns that the couch has a broken spring under the left cushion. The transpo issue remains unresolved.

 10.  Dean keeps a pair of shop-grade safety goggles by his side of the bed. It’s not the sexiest look, but it turns out feathers are stabby as hell when encountered at a particular angle. Cas can do the healy thing, of course, but they learn the hard way that cornea perforation is not really a mood enhancer. On the bright side, Castiel accidentally corrects Dean’s incipient presbyopia, which means Dean doesn’t have to hold the newspaper at arm’s length anymore when he’s idly speculating what Carolyn Hax looks like below the neck. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

 11.  You’d think that, when you’re coming down from a time-limited but incurable curse that makes you feel like every cell of your body has its own cute little individual headcold — because you missed a hex bag due to the fact that you were preparing your legal response to Sam turning up to the hunt wearing a goddamn hair scrunchy, as if he were fresh off the set of a very special episode of Clarissa Explains It All — anyway, you’d think that being wrapped in the warm embrace of an angel’s wings would be nice. 

But you would be wrong, because apparently your boyfriend has been out communing with the bees again, and those feathers pick up ragweed pollen like it’s their goddamn job, and guess what else angels can’t cure? Dean will take Motherfucking Seasonal Allergies for 600, Alex. 

12a.  One of the neighbors has that homesteading hippie brain disease that drives an otherwise normal-seeming person to brew their own beer and raise a bunch of chickens despite living within five hundred yards of a fully functioning Hy-Vee. There’s a week where one of the wee little velociraptors seems to be processing some kind of trauma because it starts yelling at dawn and keeps going until well past the hour that swearing is allowed on network TV. 

When Dean finally hammers on the front door the next afternoon the neighbor apologizes with some extremely nasty home-brew (HIPPIES) and some absolutely devastating weed (HIPPIES!) and explains that “Ginger is going through a rough molt” and then he kind of nods his head towards Dean’s side of the fence where Cas is futzing around in the squash plants and stage whispers (this is a direct quote) “You know how they get.”

Dean is about to rip the dude a new one for comparing his immortal space-kaiju lover to a fucking Australorp yard pullet when Castiel pops his head up over the white pickets and breezily contributes “Bad molt, yes, those are terrible, Dean can tell you all about how insufferable I am those weeks,” and sometimes Dean just doesn’t know why he even tries.

 12b.  The less said about angel molt, the better. 

Seriously, the freakin’ eyes-on-his-hands naked mole rat dude from, whatsit, Pan’s Labyrinth of Subtitles, would run screaming from this shit. 

 13.  There’s a 4th of July BBQ Potluck Block Party and Dean’s inability to stand idly by while good meat is abused ( shut up Sam ) means he winds up manning the grill and dismissing the pretenders to set some strictly inedible things on fire. Cas hangs out next to him and uses his flappers to kinda whupf the smoke away from Dean’s eyes now and then, which rules. It’s actually a pretty chill event until Sharon and Don From Number 4267, The Green House With The White Trim, turn up with a giant Pyrex full of naked, still-marinating teriyaki wings. 

Sharon And Don look down at their wings and then up at Castiel and then down at the wings and then up at Castiel and they are clearly teetering on the edge of a Midwestern politeness failure-based nervous breakdown. But then Cas, smooth as a margarine commercial, gently takes the dish from Sharon’s frozen hands, examines the contents for a silent moment, and says “it’s alright. They weren’t personal friends.”

He gets an extra burger for that one.

 14.  Cas keeps absent-mindedly trying to groom Dean — who, in case it still needs to be said at this point, possesses zero-point-zero feathers of his own — so he goes after Dean’s hair, instead. Dean has to stop him after his second hour of trying to straighten out a cowlick. “I don’t understand how you can steer properly with this deformity,” Cas says, as if it’s a genuine miracle that Dean isn’t constantly careening over ottomans like Dick Van Dyke. He’s even more horrified by Dean’s (frankly minimal) use of hair gel. “Jesus, Cas, it’s not like I’m drinking it,” he says, but then one time they have an epic make-out session shortly after Dean performs his masculine beauty rituals and there’s some smearage of various types of Product (tm) on the flappy areas. 

And, sonuvabitch, for the next six hours Cas is spirographing around the house like he has a heavenly inner ear infection, and he only stops veering into the doorframes after Dean wipes down every. Single. Feather. With mineral oil and about eighteen clean shop cloths. Dean switches to something called hair wax, which costs thirty zillion times more per ounce and makes him smell vaguely like church, but is a lot less gloppy. The things we do for love.

 15.  Seating inside the house is a bit of a conundrum, too. Cas can kind of flop his wings out to the sides if he sits in the middle of the couch, but then Dean’s stuck on the recliner, which is basically in the next county. Bar stools are disastrously tippy, Dean’s lower back and hips have not endured mumble-mumble years of hunting just to be subjected to a damn beanbag chair, and, after a brief flurry of optimistic excitement, Dean determines that they’d have to take the front door off to get a massage chair in. He finds a swing online that if, he can get the hardware properly installed in the crossbeam, is rated for up to 500 pounds, so he texts Cas the URL so he can check out the specs. After half an hour he writes back —

CASTIEL: Dean

CASTIEL: I believe this swing is intended for sexual congress.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: I can infer from the ellipsis that you have spent several minutes attempting to draft a response.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: Dean

DEAN: it’s multipurpose

  16 . On the plus side, though, big-ass wings make for a pretty good drying rack. He can get every sock in the house laid out on those suckers in a single round and, one episode of Dr. Sexy later, they’re perfectly dry and toasty warm, without any of the pair-busting casualties Dean has learned to expect from the apparently socknivorous dryer in the basement. 

Dean assumes it’s just the product of good air circulation and body heat until he realizes that he hasn’t had to toss a pair for being too worn out in...maybe six months? So he asks Cas “Are your wings... healing the socks” and after an entire Abbott and Costello routine centering around heal versus heel, Dean determines that the answer is: yes, his boyfriend’s wings are channeling the almighty power of Heaven to magically repair the socks Dean buys at Target in twelve-pack bags. On sale.

This is actually kind of sexy, if Dean is being perfectly honest, so, you know what? It doesn’t belong on this list.

 16.  So nobody really freaks out or bursts into tears or calls the news or the FBI or anything when Cas goes out in public with him, which Dean is secretly a little disappointed about, because come on. (Maybe giant wings just reads as a gay thing? Was there an episode of Will and Grace about this that Dean missed back when he was ass deep in wendigos or something?)

But no. Dudes tend to just glance at them across the Home Depot parking lot, throw them the Mutual Dude Acknowledgement Nod, and say some shit like “Comic-con,” or “nice anime” in a knowing tone. Then they go back to rolling their carts full of gaskets or hammers or whatever back to their mom’s station wagon. 

Little girls tend to go googly-eyed — Castiel seems to fall into the same category as a Disney princess, despite the stubble and the drabcore wardrobe, and Dean can’t count the number of times some mom has approached Dean at the grocery store (like he’s Castiel’s manager?? Which, okay...yeah, actually) and asked if they do birthday parties. The money would actually be pretty tempting if Dean weren’t five thousand percent sure that Cas would get them both arrested by launching into an anatomy lesson about duck sex or how God is a loser who favors relaxed fit jeans and Wild Turkey.

The worst is white ladies of a Certain Age, and it always seems to happen in the pudding aisle, for some reason. They either go cross-eyed with horniness and become indiscriminately handsy (Dean can’t blame them for the impulse, but also back off, Karen), or ask Cas for prayers for their cat’s chronic asshole problems (which Castiel WILL take seriously). 

Worst of all is when some hippie spinster clocks them. This woman inevitably reaches right for the feathers and asks in a willowy voice if they’d ever consider turning some of them into dreamcatchers to sell at her studio, which is literally always named The Faerie’s Glen. Then Cas gets confused about why, exactly, a sixty year-old WASP in a peasant skirt would need to call on the infant-protection powers of an Ojibwe spider goddess, while Dean just wants to bite the lady’s fingers off. 

Either way, it’s always a bad scene, and many fully loaded grocery carts have been lost to the fallout.

17.  For some metaphysical reason Dean is too dumb to suss out but also too smart to question, lugging a pair of Cessna-sized flappers around this mortal dimension actually seems to tucker Cas out. He doesn’t need to zonk out every night, but he semi-regularly throws in the towel and actually crawls in with Dean for the duration. 

This would be swell in theory, but the guy absolutely cannot settle the fuck down in less than three (3) human hours, which is the exact amount of sleep Dean requires to maintain his famously sunny demeanor. It’s not just ye olde tossing and turning — Dean can handle that, sharing a bed with Sam is like sleeping next to a kangaroo with restless leg syndrome — no, it’s a nonstop parade of little flippy-flappies and shiffle-shuffles and spontaneous outbursts of preening. 

So Dean makes him a Baby Sleep Sack. 

This is something Dean knows about due solely to one super dumb hunt involving a banishing sigil that had to be drawn in — he still feels like this had to be a misprint — human breastmilk, and that was obviously not happening. But the monster of the week wasn’t going to banish itself, so they wound up at the nearest Walmart, at 4am, picking up what turned about to be an unnecessarily generous supply of baby formula, along with a fresh box of shotgun shells because God bless America*. It doesn’t work, although “lots of stabbing” turns out to be a solid fallback plan, but the point is that while Sam was debating between Digestion Support or Neurological Development, Dean acquired an unprecedented familiarity with some of the products currently available to the sleep-deprived parent. So Dean finds some DIY Baby Sleep Sack knockoff patterns online and determines he can replicate and scale up the concept with some beach towels and duct tape, and the next morning he presents the lumpy but totally functional prototype to Castiel. 

Initially Cas thinks it’s a sex thing (reasonable, it probably is), but once they clear up that misunderstanding, he’s obviously a little peeved by the concept of being swaddled as if he were a gassy baby instead of a deathless sky monster in a sexy dude-shaped can. But Dean must be giving off some serious man on the edge vibes because Cas grudgingly agrees to let Dean tape him up the next time he’s feeling dozy. 

It’s real awkward and takes forever to get Cas bundled up right, and then he’s just kind of lying there on top of the sheets, like an enormous, grumpy baked potato. 

“I could easily break out of these restraints,” he says in a pissy tone after Dean has crawled in and turned off the light, and Dean rolls over to tell him “no shit”, but then he has to stop himself because the guy is already asleep.

Eventually they upgrade to a version made out of some of those trendy weighted blanket things, a few yards of parachute silk, and a whole lot of velcro. The dude looks so damn peaceful that Dean is honestly a little jealous.

*he doesn’t, actually. 

 18.  There’s a sunny afternoon that isn’t the usual Kansas is trying to murder you level of humid so Dean rolls the Impala out into the street for a wash. Cas helps him out a bit initially, although tragically not in a way that involves removing any unnecessary articles of clothing, but Deans sends him to grab a new tub of wax from the shed and he never comes back. After half an hour Dean needs a beer break and goes looking for him, expecting to find Cas lost in thought over whether Turtle Wax is made of actual turtles, or is made to put on actual turtles. Instead he finds Cas crouched on the shimmering pavement at the back of the driveway, sun beating down on him like it has a personal vendetta, and he’s got both wings stretched out real low above the ground. Dean kind of flips out because it’s the type of pose that just screams “stabbed in gut by angel blade” or “migraine from Hell, literally.”

Then Cas looks up, which pulls his wings up a smidge too, which in turn reveals that fully half a dozen neighborhood cats are lounging in the shady patch beneath his wings, spread out on the concrete like blobs of furry peanut butter. No, it’s actually eight cats. There are eight cats.

“Ling-Ling was feeling a little overheated,” Cas says, as if this explains everything. 

And, you know what, at this point, it does.

 19.  Dean has faith that eventually Sam or Cas or the third demon from the left in the second row will turn up a solution for the whole business. Castiel will get to tuck those bad boys back into the secret wing-closet dimension and he won’t have to worry about getting stuck in stairwells anymore, or being reported to the FAA (again). Then they can finally pack up the house, plaster over the more egregious spots of drywall damage, and go back to killing things outside of the tri-county area. The whole thing has been a pretty embarrassing interlude for a couple of dudes who’ve kicked Satan’s ass multiple times — Sam is probably telling other hunters that they’ve been deep undercover to take out a nest of suburban vampires, or a pack of ghouls with mortgages, instead of vacuuming angel down out of the AC unit and considering a Costco membership. 

And sure, there have been some...serious pluses to the situation (see: the other list), but, in his weaker moments, Dean has to admit that he’s kind of going to miss some of the goofy, irritating shit, too — like finding a six-inch feather in the veggie crisper (how? why?), or watching Cas fwap his wings out just in time to accidentally clothesline a jogger, or even the strangely compelling, sorta cheesy smell that starts to float around the house if Cas goes a little too long between hosedowns. 

He has actually grown fond of this shit. Which is 100% the least sexy thing on earth, it’s some genuinely, seriously pathetic goo goo crap, and that’s why nobody will ever hear a fucking word about it. People will ask “so what’s it like, with the wings” and Dean will waggle his eyebrows suggestively and review the highlight reel over an inadvisable amount of rail whiskey. His secret’s safe with, well. Him.

 20.  Seriously though, the bird mites. 

Gross.

[trashyswitch]

The Strange Flower

Logan and Roman take a walk in the imagination. Not long after, Logan is plagued with the giggles and phantom feelings! What ever could they be from?! Whatever it is, Roman is loving it!

I'm gonna be gone to the cottage for a week starting today. So, I'll be working on fanfics a little, but less than usual. It's a vacation!! I'm actually really excited!

This fanfic prompt came from @little-lee-lo-simp. Thank you so much for the prompt and I hope you enjoy the fanfic.

These are the morning Giggles:

Logan was walking around with Roman in the imagination, admiring the many flowers and trees surrounding them. There were so many colors! And so many different fruits and things hidden within the trees! From creatures to vines and flowers, it was beautiful.

There were poppies with smiley faces on them, different fruits that were covered in ‘paint splash’ syrup, there were lettuce bits that could be fresh, sweet or crunchy depending on your preference, and there were banana-shaped fruits that had edible skins and pomegranate-like seeds in the middle of the fruit.

There were vines covered in pickable sticks that were edible and used for healing purposes, and twisty flowers that had yarn-textured petals yet, were still real and growing on their own. There were thick leaves that held different-colored inks in them that could be used for mixing and writing, and there were thin large leaves that could be written on like paper without ripping when written on with a stick.

Many flowers looked like they were squirting different things. One flower had honey running down the stem. They were labelled ‘Buzzy suckles’, a wordplay of honey suckles. There were even different colored roses that looked like they were splashed with layers of watercolors. Red, yellow, purple, pink, they all covered the roses in a drippy paint-like pattern.

Logan smiled as he knelt down to look closer at the small cluster of roses. “These are beautiful, Roman.” Logan reacted calmly, filled with awe and delight.

Roman smiled at the complement. But when he looked upon the flowers that Logan was looking at, Roman tilted his head in thought. He...didn’t remember what he had called those specific flowers. Obviously they were a type of roses, but he liked to give them a spinney, cute kinda name to go with them. But...Roman had forgotten this particular cute name.

But he most certainly remembered how beautiful they were! “Thank you!” Roman replied.

Logan picked one of the roses and put it behind Roman’s ear. Roman giggled at this and wore the rose with confidence and pride. The flower started blooming little sticks that had...rectangular flags on them? And they had the gay flag on each one of them!

“Awww, it knows you’re gay!” Logan reacted.

“Yup! This flower can specifically tell what sexuallity you are. If you were straight, you’d have a straight flag. If you were pan, you had a pan flag. If you identified as multiple things…” Roman looked at the flower and pointed to hated multiple Gay pride flags that popped out. “Each of these flags would be different, to identify what kind of person you are.” Roman explained. “And if you’re more than 3…” Roman poked it and watched as a single LGBT flag poked out. “The LGBT community flag will pop out, specifying anything!” Roman explained.

“I love it!” Logan reacted.

“You can also use this flower to find out what you are in a few seconds.” Roman added.

“But it still has the usual sexuality journey, right?” Logan asked. “Cause everyone needs a journey.”

“Yup!” Roman replied proudly.

Logan continued to look around at the different varieties of flowers and plants that filled the imagination. There were even weeds that looked surprisingly pretty! A few of the weeds had pretty leaves and pretty flowers that were hidden within it. Even the dandelions were nicer to look at. They were more of an orangey yellow color, and were slightly bigger than the usual dandelions.

But in a specific spot: a small field of these strange flowers had been planted. They were blue flowers that looked a lot like Morning Glories. But...they resembled a heavenly blue version, and had a very visibly yellow middle. “Wow..I’m gonna head over here.” Logan decided.

Roman didn’t think much of it. “Okay.”

Logan walked to the blue and yellow flowers, and laid down inside the flowers’ fields. They looked so pretty...and very detailed when he looked closer at them. They had these dark green leaves that extended out of the stem. The flowers actually looked like they were dancing in the wind like Groot did in Guardians of the Galaxy. It looked really cute. It also seemed to be spirting out tiny bits of pollen. Logan tilted his head and placed a finger closer to the pollen. It was yellow looking, like all pollens were, and looked fuzzy.

Strange...

Logan got up and walked away from the pretty flowers a little while after. He dusted off his fingers on his shirt and pants to get rid of the pollen and walked to Roman.

“You have some really pretty flower and plant ideas. I love them!” Logan reacted.

Roman smiled eagerly. “Thank you! I worked really hard to make sure every single one of my flowers were distinctive and different in their own way.” Roman declared proudly. “Now: Cherry?” Roman asked, holding up a black cherry to him.

Logan smiled and took it. “Thank you, Roman!”

The two boys walked themselves out of the imagination and back into Thomas’s house. Logan was feeling a bit of an itchy feeling, but he didn’t think much of it. He just kept scratching it and continuing with his day. But soon the itchy feeling turned tickly. And it started spreading.

Logan attempted to ignore the feeling and hid his smile, but it felt like a single finger was scratching at one side each. It was distracting and made him wanna tense up. Soon, the feeling moved to his ribs. It felt like poking and wiggling in between his ribs. Logan could barely hide his smile without looking like a doofus that was trying not to laugh at a stupid joke. Logan looked away from Roman in an attempt to cover it up. But Roman could tell something was up.

“Logan...What are you smiling about?” Roman asked. “Are the smiley flowers making you smile?” Roman asked, referring to purple poppy’s that had a smiley face on each petal.

Logan shook his head and hummed ‘no’.

“Huh...I thought that may have been it. What’s making you smile, Logey Bee?” Roman asked. Logan accidentally let a giggle slip at the weird and strangely cute nickname. “Ooooh, you’re a giggly bee! I see now!” Roman declared. “What’s making you so giggly?” Roman asked.

Logan shook his head and couldn’t stop the giggles that left his mouth more and more. That’s a good question! What IS making him so giggly? He’s never like this!

“Iiiiis it a funny joke?” Roman asked. “Hey I’ve got one for you:” Roman cleared his throat. “What do dentists call their X-Rays?” Roman asked.

Logan frantically shook his head. Even if it wasn’t funny, any amount of jokes is gonna worsen his giggles!

“Tooth Pics! Dentists call X-Rays tooth pics!” Roman declared proudly.

Logan squeezed his eyes shut. That was a bad one...An obvious joke- “Hehehehehehehe!” Logan giggled. SHIT!

Roman gasped. “PATTON! PATTON, I MADE LOGAN LAUGH AT A JOKE!” Roman shouted. “YESSS!”

Logan growled through is giggles. “Nohohohohoho! Stahahap ihihihit!” Logan begged. Logan covered his belly as his inner stomach was attacked with the strangest phantom tickles he’s ever felt in his life. “Thahahahat tihihihicklehehehes!” Logan giggled, nearly falling over. He was beginning to lose his balance.

“Tickles? What tickles?” Roman asked, getting closer. “Does your belly tickle? Maybe your sides? Or your neck?” Roman asked.

That word was enough to throw Logan into full on laughter, mixed with giggles in between. “HAhahahahahaha! Rohohohomahahahan whahahat dihihihid yohohou puhuhuhut ihin yohohour flohohohowehehers?” Logan asked.

“Well that depends. The smiley Poppy makes you smile uncontrollably. The blue and red Mushrooms make you overly hyper. The morning Giggles make you- Ooooooh…” Roman turned to Logan. “Did you cover yourself in the pollen from the Morning Glory flowers? You silly, giggly goose!” Roman teased. “Those are called Morning Giggles! They make you giggle and laugh through means of tickling and softly teasing your ticklish spots!” Roman declared.

Well, that seemed to be the most conclusive answer.

“But when did you get in contact with the morning giggles? You never struck out on your own until the end- Oooooooh…” Roman smirked and leaned into his ear. “You brought this upon yourself, Giggle berry~” Roman teased.

You could say that again...He really did get himself into this. But why didn’t he warn him!

“If I had known you were gonna look at the morning giggles, I would’ve warned you! But nope! Telling by the spot you’re holding so tensely, it looks like you decided to lay on your poor, ticklish belly to admire the beautiful, giggle blooms!” Roman declared. “Does that sound about right?” Roman asked.

Logan finally kneeled over and flopped onto his side with laughter. With his feet free, Logan started kicking and squirming on the ground, unable to contain any of it. The pollen was tickling everything it touched. His belly, his thighs, his nose, his neck, his abs, his feet, the tops of his feet, even his armpits were partly covered in ticklish pollen! It felt like the pollen bits were jumping around and snuggling into Logan’s ticklish spots on his body! Even his hands were being tickled by the micro-sized pollen bits! What a strange conundrum!

To make things even worse, Roman’s teases were flustering him beyond saving. Logan was practically the color of a strawberry! How dare!

“Aww! Listen to that sweet little laugh! It’s so fun and cute!”

“You should laugh more often, Logan. It suits you! And you of all people know, laughter is very good for you!” Roman teased.

Logan covered his face and cowered into the fetal position.

“Where is my camera? I need to get a picture of this. Or maybe even a video! Or 5!”

Logan whimpered and whined. “SHUHUHUT UHUHUP!” Logan ordered.

“Are you whimpering now? You be careful doing that! Patton just might think there’s a puppy in this house!”

Logan whimpered again and covered his mouth. Just about every part of Logan’s front side was being tickled by the bits of pollen. It was so much tickling at once.

“HEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHEHEHEHE!” Logan begged.

“Hmmmmmm...Maybe in a bit. I wanna enjoy this for a little longer! Then I’ll dust you off!” Roman decided. “How’s that?”

Logan whined and groaned. “FIHIHINE…”

Logan handled the tickling for a little longer, despite his want for it to stop. It was getting to be too much light tickles for him to handle. “Ihihihit’s soho lihihihihight!” Logan reacted.

“Ohh! Do you want more? Does the blueberry Logan bean want the stronger tickle tickle tickles?” Roman asked politely.

“Yehehehes plehehehehease!” Logan begged.

Roman nodded. “Your wish is my command, your royal blueness!” Roman grabbed Logan’s hand and started tickling his palm.

Logan’s laughter TRIPLED in volume! “OHOHOHOHO NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Logan screamed!

“WHOA! Okay! What’s up with you?! You sound like you’re gonna rip a vocal cord if you keep screaming like that!” Roman reacted.

Logan cackled and laughed hysterically as his hand was attacked by Roman’s hand. His hand was moving the pollen around, which only made it tickle even more! And the pollen in Logan’s armpit was more free to move around, making the pollen tickle much worse in that spot too! There was just so much tickling!

Not that Logan minded, of course…

Logan squeaked, squealed, cackled and snorted through the whole thing. “OHOHOKAHAHAHAY, OHOHOKAHAHAHAHAHAY! EHEHENOHOHOUGH! IHIHI CAHAHAHAHAHA!” Logan couldn’t even get some of his words out properly at this point.

That was when Roman realized he should probably stop. Roman let go of his palm and placed it down. Then, Roman summoned a big broom-like paintbrush and brushed off the pollen. Though the pollen did end up coming off (Which lessened the tickling), the brush itself tickled as well. Even with the shirt and the pants on, it tickled! Logan giggled and squirmed around as Roman brushed the pollen off his poor body.

Roman soon stopped and looked at Logan. “Alright. I have a new plan.” He decided. “Let’s get you into a shower to let the pollen wash off you.” Roman decided.

Logan nodded as he held his belly somewhat lightly. Roman walked to the shower, started it up, checked the water, and left the bathroom so Logan could get in.

30 minutes later:

Roman was playing a game on his iPad when Logan walked in with his hair somewhat wet, and his body in new, yet identical clothes. Logan had a small smile on his face. “That was quite the ordeal.” Logan admitted.

Roman giggled. “I’ll say. I guess you gotta keep in mind the morning giggles from now on. And some of the other ones I mentioned.” Roman added.

Logan sighed and looked at him with a serious face. “I have another idea:” Logan picked up a sign that said ‘Morning Giggles: Pollen makes you laugh’ on it. “How about placing signs in front of the plants?” Logan asked.

Roman nodded and took the sign he made. “Thank you Logan. That’s a better idea than I could’ve come up with!” Roman reacted.

“No problem.” Logan replied. “Though I will say…” Roman turned to face Logan as he continued. “I would consider laying in the morning glories- giggles again.” Logan admitted.

Roman bursted out laughing at that. “Yohohou know you can just ask people to tickle you, right?” Roman added.

“Yes, I am aware of that. But doing that would ruin my image. I would much prefer there being an uncontrollable reason to my giggles and laughter.” Logan explained.

“Okay. Suit yourself.” Roman replied, sneaking a poke to both sides.

Logan jumped and shot a wobbly glare at him. This just made Roman laugh at him more.

Roman’s imagination is filled with thousands of different flowers. But only one flower’s pollen can make the most monotone person laugh beyond their years:

The Morning Giggles.

[neraidaastrid]

Never ending moment

Fred Weasley x Reader

Fandom: Harry Potter

Prompt: Y/N running off of coffee to stay up to avoid sleeping as it makes them feel like sleeping is wasting time. He gets her to 😴

Word Count: 1562

Warnings: Intrusive thoughts. Worrying. Unhealthy sleeping habits.

The warm liquid squirmed down your throat, enlightening your body with heat. It was as though you were being hugged on the inside, heat spreading internally. You relished in it, high on your caffeine drive, holding your cute cat mug in your hands while in front of the fireplace. The roaring fiery flames cackled, blessing your ears and sending warming shivers throughout your body. A thick crocheted jumper hugged your torso loosely; Black leggings shaping your legs, revealing them of their form; Fuzzy socks cuddling your feet with fluff; Legs crossed on the floor of the Weasley’s burrow. You didn't want to waste a minute of this; You couldn't waste a minute of this. 

You inhaled a deep breath through you nose, letting in faint coffee scent. Your eyes began to feel heavy, the feeling of sleep wanting to force them shut. You tightly shut your eyes, trying to squeeze it away; The tiredness was trying to catch up with you but you would not let it. Never could you waste these moments with something as stupid as sleep. What if you were to miss something while unconscious? No, it won't happen. You can't miss anything. So, you reopened them, a slight blur on the corners of your vision.

You started gulping down the drink like it would just suddenly make this feeling go away. And with every chug, your eyes began to feel somewhat lighter; Less strained. You let a sigh escape your lips; It was boring to tell the truth, but sleep was out of the question. You focused on the clock above the fireplace, most hands pointing home; Charlie was in Romania, tending to his dragons; Bill in Egypt, working as a curse-breaker; Percy was home; Arthur was working a late night at the ministry; Molly was home; Ginny was home; Ron was home; George was home; Fred was home. Your dearest Fred. Your bestest friend since our first year and the guy you so stupidly fell for. If only he knew.

You sat in solitude as the sun rose from the sky, letting the moon take a break from its reign over the night. Shades of pure oranges and pinks seep into the room, shining through the window above the sink. Dishes began dancing in the sink bowl, a scrubbing brush swirling soap over the pottery. Clinks and clanks of the plates putting themselves in the cupboards were quiet compared to your thoughts. Tapping of knitting needles sang through the morning clatter, working on Mrs. Weasley’s new piece. Threading purple and blue wool together in a complicated weave. Your mug had gone cold, no more warmth radiating to your hands, but still you clutched onto it for some sort of stableness in the war in your head. 

Mr. Weasley’s clock hand had been moving slowly throughout the past hour or so and you hadn't even noticed. It dinged, alerting you and prompting your attention. His hand had reached home and he was going to find you sat on the floor of his home. Would he think you were crazy? You shook the thought away, but you stayed frozen; In the end, you didn't really care. Let him see you. You just didn't want to move; You couldn’t move. Though you did not care whether he found you here or not, your heart began to race and your body trembled. The ‘what ifs’ still danced about your head unwanted, no matter how much you wanted to get rid of them. Your eyes stayed glued to the clock, awaiting Arthur to come waltzing into his home.

A fierce engine grumbled loudly outside of the burrow, landing roughly onto the grass, bouncing along to its stop. The noise only grew, rumbling into your ears until it immediately faltered, meaning that the engine had been turned off. A low click was followed by a slam and footsteps trudging along the muddy field of morning dew. 

The little bell above the side door gave a soft ring as the door opened and the redhead stumbled in. The noise echoed through the room, but it was quite quiet, melodious even. His heavy steps creaked the floorboards, his coat grazing against everything at his sides. Briefcase in his left hand which he placed on the table, his eyes catching sight of you. His face showed confusion; Eyebrows knitted together; Lips in a thin line; Eyes squinted, trying to find an answer. He looked slightly startled by your presence, “Ah. Goodmorning Y/N. You’re up a bit early aren't you?” He was polite nether less, but you could barely speak out a word; Your body paralysed by thoughts. “Morning.” Did he hear it? You’re pretty sure your voice cracked and it was really quiet too. Hopefully he didn't think you were being rude for not answering the question, but that was all you could say. It was polite but was it rude to not answer the question? Your mind ran and ran, no matter what happened, you could never get a break from it. 

Arthur took that as the best answer he could possibly get and sighed. His footsteps dispersed from the dining room and he travelled up the long twisty staircase. He could move, so why couldn't you? This was lazy, you were lazy. This was why you had to be awake, nothing you did today was productive and now you just sit frozen. You couldn't miss anything else; You’ve already missed most of the day whisked away in one of the twin’s rooms and now you spent your nights caffiened up and paralysed. Useless. 

The movements of magic were merely heard, they just blurred into silent background noise. But a new pair of footsteps awakened you and as if on instinct, you knew it was Fred. You blinked and all of a sudden the feeling in your body was back. You jumped up, fixing your hair and patting down your clothing, fixing a gentle smile on your face. Your mug was being tightly held in your hands still, the cold pottery keeping your skin chilled. 

The ginger spotted you in front of the fireplace, a small smirk tugging at his lips but concern played in his eyes. His eyes moved about your figure, studying your appearance. Exhaustion quite easily spotted on you; Shoulders slouched; Frizzy hair; Bags hanging under your eyes. While a smile was framed on your face, your eyes looked lost, they were darting around the room, unable to focus on one thing. 

Fred took steps towards you, placing his hand on your cheek, cupping it. “You never showed up to the bedroom last night. I thought you were with George, but then dad told me you were down here, sat frozen on the floor.” His face fell and he towered over you. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” His voice was soothing, but your body only shook more. His eyes fell down to the mug, staring at the rubbish bit of coffee you left. He sighed and took the mug from your hands and placed it onto the dining table behind him. Your eyes teared up, the brim of them crystallising. Fred’s strong hands went back onto your cheeks, circling his thumbs over your bags. You couldn't speak, your words were being held back by something. What if you said something wrong? 

“When’s the last time you slept?” His voiced calmed your thoughts, letting you escape them for a moment. You bit your bottom lip, trying to think but your mind was puzzled. Nothing; You had no recollection whatsoever of when you last rested your head. Your shoulders shrugged to show Fred. “I don't know.” His big masculine hands instantly let go of your face and wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Lets get you to bed.” He placed his hands under your body, lifting you bridal style. “Fred, I’m not tired, I don't want to sleep-” A yawn interrupted you last second, making your argument seem condescending and completely useless. You could feel his eye roll radiating off of him as he made his way to the staircase Mr. Weasley had gone up not too long before. “We’ll talk about this in the morning, but for now, you're going to bed.” His voice stern, as though he was scolding a child, but you stopped protesting. You were shaking still and the feeling wasn't so great, it was taking so much energy to keep your eyes open. Maybe you could just have another coffee- Nope, Fred wouldn't allow it. You huffed in defeat and Fred walked into his room, pushing open the already open door.

He softly lays you onto the mattress, transferring your weight onto the plush material. The redhead crawls in behind you, covering you and him with his covers. You kept blinking rapidly, unable to stay awake much longer. A pair of arms pull you into a body, your face nuzzling into his neck. His scent was euphoric and you couldn't quite think straight. “Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.” His chest vibrated when he spoke and he planted a kiss to your head, stroking your hair back. You closed your eyes, letting his scent fight away the intrusive thoughts and letting you drift off. Darkness took over your body while Fred just held onto you, hoping this moment would never have to end.

[desdealgunlugardelsur]

Harrison Ford: 2020 summary

A year like no other, as you must have heard countless times. The pandemic changed almost everybody´s life on this planet and Harrison wasn´t an exception. Our lil´ bean is strong and healthy but also has to be safe at home, so this year didn´t deliver many news about Harrison. Still, we had a new Harrison movie, The Call of the Wild, released in February, and a few other events before the lockdown. 2020 was also marked by the death of 3 former Harrison´s costars: Chadwick Boseman, Sean Connery and David Prowse. May all of them rest on peace on Heaven.

A new year begins, and we all wish Harrison (and everyone by the way) a productive, happy and healthy 2021. Stay safe!

JANUARY

Early January:  Harrison Ford enjoying his holidays in the caribbean island of Bonaire

25th: Harrison Ford with singer Carole Bayer Sager in a dinner in support of US Democratic candidate Michael Bloomberg

28th: The Call of the Wild “Adventure Companions” Featurette.  Harrison Ford talks about dogs and companionship in The Call of the Wild’s “Adventure Companions” featurette.

28th: not sure where these pics were taken. Probably in Wyoming?  (pics from Rich Elali)

FEBRUARY

3rd: Verizon Super Bowl Ad Features Harrison Ford And New Pearl Jam Song

Kathleen Kennedy Says Harrison Ford Is Still On For ‘Indiana Jones 5’

Early-mid February: the national and international promotion  of The Call of the Wild  begins

5th: In Mexico City:

Harrison Ford: America Has Lost Its Moral Leadership And Credibility:  The “Star Wars” and “Indiana Jones” star calls out U.S. policy on immigration and climate.

11th: On the Jimmy Kimmel Show:

More here 

13th: Harrison Ford, actor and watch designer.  Newly adapted from Jack London’s literary classic, “The Call of the Wild” transports us to the snowy expanses of Alaska in the 1890s, with Harrison Ford as prospector John Thornton. The actor talks about climate activism, technology and why mechanical watches beat smartwatches every time.

14th: Indiana Jones 5 Starts Shooting In Two Months Says Harrison Ford :  The long delayed fifth Indiana Jones film is finally about to get underway, as Harrison Ford reveals that he will begin shooting in two months. (that was what they were planning before COVID-19 hit the world...)

14th: Harrison Ford: Indiana Jones 5 Will “See Part of His History Resolved”

17th: “A Force ghost? I don’t know what a Force ghost is…I have no idea what a Force ghost is. And I don’t care!“. Legend.

21st: The Call of the Wild is released in cinemas

At the movie premiere in Los Angeles:

BRING ON THE PUPPIES:

More videos:

Call of the Wild Survival Tips!

SNACK??? (Kudos to that girl)

Find epic stories at your library! 

More news:

Of Course Harrison Ford Did His Own Call Of The Wild Stunts And 'Wore Out' The Stunt Team

Harrison Ford's shirtless chest is that buff (at 77) for his 'Call of the Wild' swim scene

26th: Steven Spielberg Won’t Direct ‘Indiana Jones 5,’ James Mangold in Talks to Replace  

27th: Harrison Ford Breaks Down His Career, from 'Star Wars' to 'Indiana Jones'  (Vanity Fair)

Late February: Harrison Ford visits Google´s offices in San Francisco to test the company´s self-driving car. [x] [x] [x] [x]

MARCH

14th:  Harrison spotted in South Hadley, Massachusetts [x].  Apparently Harrison and Calista went to Massachusetts to pick up their son Liam after college shut down due to the coronavirus pandemic.

MARCH

MARCH

MARCH

MARCH

...

APRIL

3rd: Disney delay multiple release dates including Jungle Cruise, The French Dispatch, and Indiana Jones 5  

(…) Another big reveal is that Indiana Jones 5 – which will reportedly be directed by James Mangold – is being pushed back a year, from July 9, 2021 to July 29, 2022.

29th: Harrison Ford under FAA investigation after making a mistake while operating an airplane on the runway

According to the audio obtained by TMZ, Ford, 77, did not follow the direction of a tower operator to “keep short” on the runway because of “traffic”. It seems that the actor did not hear the direction. He nevertheless started to cross the runway, which prompted the operator to reprimand him for not following his instructions.

“Cross this trail now!” I told you to keep it short! You have to listen, “said the operator.

“Excuse me, sir, I thought exactly the opposite. I’m really sorry, ”said Ford immediately.

TMZ said there was no risk of an accident. The other aircraft was allegedly 3600 feet from Ford’s aircraft.

MAY

6th: Lucasfilm Reportedly Wants Harrison Ford To Return For Han And Chewie Star Wars Spinoff (Note: this hasn´t been officially confirmed by Lucasfilm)

15th: No news but I think this is cute: 

From twitter.com/siikasele

21st: The Empire Strikes Back 40th anniversary. 40 years ago, TESB was released on theaters the 21st of May of 1980.

27th: James Mangold Confirmed To Direct Indiana Jones 5.  Producer Frank Marshall confirms James Mangold is directing Indiana Jones 5 and says he's only just begun to work on his own script for the movie.

28th: James Mangold plans to take Indiana Jones franchise 'someplace new'. 

Indiana Jones Writer on How Pandemic Will Affect Film's Script

JUNE

Nothing happens but look at this

You are welcome.

JULY

13th: Happy birthday king!

AUGUST

23rd:  Harrison Ford dropping off his son Liam at College with wife Calista Flockhart via private plane (from tinyrebelstuff)

28th: Chadwick Boseman dies of cancer at the age of 43

Harrison Ford Calls Chadwick Boseman "As Much a Hero as Any He Played" 

“Chadwick Boseman was as compelling, powerful and truthful as the characters he chose to play,” Ford said in a statement to The Hollywood Reporter. “His intelligence, personal dignity and deep commitment inspired his colleagues and elevated the stories he told. He is as much a hero as any he played. He is loved and will be deeply missed.”

SEPTEMBER

24th: Harrison Ford Cleared by FAA in Runway Investigation. "The FAA has closed the case involving the pilot who crossed a Hawthorne Municipal Airport runway without authorization on April 24, 2020. The FAA required the pilot to take a remedial runway incursion training course. When the pilot successfully completed the course, the FAA closed the case with no additional action," the FAA said in a statement to The Hollywood Reporter.

OCTOBER

19th: Harrison Ford & Ed Helms To Star In STX Seafaring Comedy ‘Adventures Of Burt Squire’ 

22nd: Actor and Pilot Harrison Ford Becomes Airlink Spokesperson. Video here

31st: Sean Connery dies at 90.

Sean Connery: Harrison Ford pays tribute to his Indiana Jones father and 'dear friend'

"He was my father... not in life... but in Indy 3," he said.

"You don't know pleasure until someone pays you to take Sean Connery for a ride in the sidecar of a Russian motorcycle bouncing along a bumpy, twisty mountain trail and getting to watch him squirm.

"God, we had fun - if he's in heaven, I hope they have golf courses.

"Rest in peace, dear friend."

NOVEMBER

2nd: Harrison Ford And Lincoln Project Back Anthony Fauci, Advocate Firing Donald Trump  

In the waning hours of the 2020 presidential election, the Lincoln Project has enlisted Harrison Ford to narrate a new ad that plays up President Donald Trump’s suggestion that he will fire Dr. Anthony Fauci.

The spot features a scene from a Trump rally on Sunday in which supporters began chanting “Fire Fauci! Fire Fauci!” and the president responded, “Don’t tell anybody, but let me wait til a little bit after the election.”

Ford then says, “Tomorrow, you can fire only one of them. The choice is yours.”

3rd: Harrison Ford and Bloomberg on Biden 2020

7th: Destiel becomes canon. Harrison doesn´t give a single fuck.

Also Joe Biden wins the US elections. Trump is defeated. Harrison, we know you hate Donald Trump. Congratulations.

21st: Harrison Ford back in Boston, Massachusetts, to pick up his son Liam for Thanksgiving Day.

28th: David Prowse, who played Darth Vader in the original trilogy, dies at the age of 85. Sorry, I didn´t find any words from Harrison on his memory... it seems they weren´t so close. Also, Jeremy Bulloch, the original Boba Fett, dies at 75 the 17th of december.

DECEMBER

10th: Indiana Jones: James Mangold, Harrison Ford Team to Close Out the Character  

Harrison Ford and James Mangold's Indiana Jones 5 will serve as the final chapter for the iconic character.

Disney changed the Indiana Jones logotype. I have a bad feeling about this.

15th: Rare, behind-the-scenes look at 'The Empire Strikes Back'

Including this jewel:

Gif from the @theorganasolo​

31st: And just at the very last day of this weird and strange year...

Disney Reportedly Wants Harrison Ford For Indiana Jones Streaming Show 

Thankfully, then, it seems that the fifth (Indiana Jones) outing may not be the last we see of the actor in the role, as insider Daniel Richtman claims that Disney wants Ford to appear in a series that’s being developed for their streaming service. Further details are unclear and the tipster doesn’t say if it’s an all-new show or a reboot of The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles, but as one of the Mouse House’s most valuable assets, it wouldn’t be a surprise if they wanted to continue mining the property once Indiana Jones 5 wraps up the big screen stories for good. 

Thanks everyone! Hopefully in 2021 the pandemic will fade and the world will return to normalcy. Luckily the production of Indiana Jones V will start this spring, as well as other Harrison projects such the tv show The Staircase and the movie starring with Ed Elms. Fingers crossed for a year full of (good) news about Harrison. Have a happy and safe 2021.

[ri-ahhh]

van life

I wasn’t gonna post this because it’s just like an overload of unrealistic softness but now that we know that they’re selling the van I think now is the best time if I’m gonna do it lol.

Also I’m sorry I can’t make this shorter on your dash by putting a ‘keep reading’ break. Tumblr is shitty and permanently fucked on my desktop where it just won’t load the page once I’m logged in so I have to do everything through mobile🙄

6k

warnings: fluff, smut, kinda unedited

***

MJ sighs as warm morning sunlight kisses her skin through the passenger window of the tiny house van. She and Grayson had decided to have a beach day to themselves — the first one of summer — and she could’t be more excited. Nothing makes MJ Macias more content and at peace with her life than laying under the Pacific sun until her nose freckles and her skin takes on that healthy golden hue. Wrinkles are a risk she’s willing to take as long as she has a nice, long podcast, something to munch on, and, of course, a good view of her boyfriend in the surf.

That view of him rivals the one of the ocean in her opinion, which is just past his window as they cruise down the PCH on their way to Malibu. MJ wiggles her white-painted toes on the dashboard and smiles as she watches him sing along quietly (and off-key) to the Tame Impala song filling the cabin of the van. She loves his profile so much: the perfect slope of his nose; his full lips; the chunk of hair that swoops across his forehead.

She lifts their clasped hands from where they rest on her thigh with their fingers threaded together, and kisses the back of his wide palm.

“You’re so handsome, Bear,” MJ murmurs against his skin.

Grayson stops singing long enough to look over at her and smile brightly, his eyes hidden behind his black Louis Vuitton sunglasses. He pulls their hands towards himself so he can copy her kiss, only to her her own soft skin.

“My pretty Peach,” he returns with a squeeze to her palm, making MJ flush the color of her pet name. “Always so beautiful in the mornings.”

MJ hums and takes her turn returning their hands back to her lap, trailing her long nails up and down his muscular, veiny forearm. Apparently they’re equally as headass for each other today. “Just in the mornings?” she teases, tickling the sensitive patch of skin near the crook of his elbow.

She can’t see his eyes roll, but she imagines they do as his grin turns playful. “Of course not, but especially in the mornings. Your hair is in that cute braid and your skin is all silky soft and your eyes are extra green.” He takes his eyes off the road for a moment to appraise her looking exactly as he described. “And, you know, usually on the weekends you’d still be naked at this time. I like that part about mornings, too.”

“Oh, Lord,” she laughs with a shake of her head. “Grayson!”

She gasps his name and giggles harder as he completely catches her off guard by moving their hands right over his hardening cock. MJ squeezes him reflexively, and Grayson gives a little grunt as he shifts in his seat with a smirk.

“What?” he asks in mock defense, placing both hands back on the steering wheel. “I had to show you how much you affect me! I only have to think about you naked in our bed and it goes up.”

“That’s sweet,” MJ says, stroking his dick one more time before moving her hand further down his thigh, “but if you think I’m giving you road head in this car on this twisty road, you’re very mistaken.”

Grayson makes an obnoxious little whiny noise in defeat, pouting playfully and muttering dejectedly, “I knew we should have taken the Tesla.”

MJ raises an eyebrow. “Well, we wouldn’t have been able to bring your surfboard. Or be the first ones to christen the tiny house.”

“Oh, shit,” Gray says quietly, surprised. MJ smiles at the small victory of teasing him, her eyes diverting back to the beautiful scenery ahead of them as her mind wanders to all the things they can do in that makeshift bed.

“How about road hand, then, to start it off?”

She lets out a frustrated huff, his request interrupting her daydream. If there was ever a scenario where she didn't trust Grayson, it was one in which he was receiving any overt sexual pleasure whilst controlling a giant motor vehicle.

“Gray, I love you, but you’re pushing it.”

“Understood.”

***

It takes about half an hour for them to reach their destination, but MJ knows it was worth the drive as soon as they exit the car and she inhales the clean, salty air. They park at a little camping lot they had reserved a spot in for the day, the glittering ocean a mere few hundred feet away.

“Surf looks good,” MJ remarks, her hand shielding her eyes as she gazes out at the water. It always makes her a little nervous when Gray goes out in big swells, so the mild waves are a happy sight for her. “Nice and small; just how I like ‘em.”

Grayson looks out as well as he climbs on the roof of the van to retrieve the surfboard. “Funny, I happen to know for a fact you like ‘em long and wide,” he jokes. He just couldn’t help himself, apparently, his wide smile looking down at her from the top of the ladder a clear display of how proud of the stupid joke he is.

MJ watches the exposed muscles in his arms and shoulders ripple under his skin as he begins wrestling with the hooks and ties securing the board to the roof racks. The sight combined with his words and thoughts of what transpired earlier in the car makes her center pulse dangerously.

Needless to say, he’s successfully turned her on despite her best efforts.

“You’re insufferable, Dolan,” she says with a shake of her head. Her body feels heated from his innuendo and also the midmorning sun that is steadily raising the outside temperature. She pulls off the hoodie she had thrown on in the chilly early morning and steps into the back seat to haul out the cooler and beach bag.

“Yeah, but you love me,” his voice comes from right behind her. She turns around and yelps in surprise when she sees Grayson peeking his head upside down into the cab from the roof. He’s inches from her and is just dangling there like an overgrown monkey, which makes her fall back in the seat in a fit of giggles. He wags his brows at her playfully. “Ooh! Spider-Man kiss!”

MJ rolls her eyes good-naturedly and happily scoots over to clasp his cheeks in her hands, granting his wish by planting a sweet kiss to his lips. The scruff on his chin tickles her nose peculiarly, but she’s not mad at it. “Too much. I love you too much, you goof.”

Finally, with all their beach supplies in hand, they walk together towards the ocean. The private beach that they can access with their camp site is quiet and secluded. Best of all, it isn't clogged with tourists or people in general, which they both greatly prefer. Less people means they’re less likely to be bombarded by fangirls, or paparazzi, or any other unwanted distractions from what MJ hopes will be a perfect day.

As soon as the texture under her feet changes from firm concrete to sunken sand, MJ is stopping to remove her flip-flops so her toes can dig into the fine powder. This moment of first stepping on the beach is one of her favorite experiences, as minute and insignificant as it seems.

She looks up at Grayson, who glances back down at her questioningly. “Race ya,” she challenges suddenly, hauling ass to a perfect open spot on the wide expanse of beach. If there’s one thing she and her boyfriend have in common, it’s a highly competitive spirit.

“Cheater!” Grayson calls after her. He has the surfboard under one arm and the cooler slung over his shoulder, but everyone knows Grayson Dolan is the last person to turn down a competition. Which is why he does his best to catch up to her even with the obstacles in his arms holding him back.

The finish line is also only in MJ’s head, so she stops when she finds a spot she likes. She drops their bag and turns around with her arms raised like Rocky. Grayson isn’t very far behind her, being as in-shape as he is he’s reached her quickly, but he slows down earlier than he really needs to so he can take her in. Her breasts heave beneath a leopard print bikini top, loose hairs escape from her messy french braid, and her long legs glitter with the sand she had kicked up on her run.

She’s the most beautiful, dorky, amazing woman he’s ever seen and she is his.

MJ watches smugly as her boyfriend stalks over to her. “I wi—“

Grayson releases everything he’s carrying to the sand and grasps her face in both hands, pulling her in for a long, lingering kiss. MJ lets out a little squeak of surprise, but she melts into him half a second later. Nothing warms her soul more than his lips on hers, and she wraps her arms around his middle to bring them as close together as possible.

When he pulls back, Grayson stares at her with complete, obvious adoration. Ethan would have called him a simp if he were there, that’s how sappy his twin looks. Grayson can’t help himself, though; he is a simp for MJ, and, truthfully, he doesn’t give two shits who knows it as long as he makes her smile up at him like she is now, every day.

It’s why yesterday he had casually opened a new browser window, convincing himself he was just curiously window shopping on the ring section of Tiffany’s and the like… even after he got sucked into the customization tool on one website for nearly two hours.

Shaking his head and biting his lip through a grin, he traces the freckles on MJ’s cheek. “I want a rematch later.”

MJ squeezes him and smacks his ass playfully before releasing him and reaching into the bag for the big blanket. “You’re always such a sore loser,” she teases, unfolding the cloth and weighing it down with Grayson’s help. She digs through the bag again and hands him his wetsuit. “Go catch some waves. I have to catch up on this podcast by this really sexy guy and his twin brother.”

If there could be snapshots of the rest of the day, they would have been out of a picturesque rom-com. For a while, MJ rests on her tummy as she watches Grayson glide through the water, his deep voice simultaneously reverberating in her ears through her AirPods.

Eventually, when he’s done surfing — looking like a beach Adonis when he walks up the shore with the top half of his wetsuit folded down at his hips, surfboard under his arm and his wet abs glistening in the sun — he joins her on the blanket.

In the early afternoon MJ props herself up on her elbow, appraising his form with hungry, appreciative eyes as he tans on his back next to her. He has his hands pillowed behind his head, which causes his biceps to bulge and her thighs to clench. MJ is lost in him as she trails her finger over the features of his face — down his button nose, smoothing over his arched brows, across his rosy cheeks, against his pillowy lips. She smiles as he sighs contentedly and drops a peck to the tip of his nose before settling with her cheek on his chest. He smells like tanning oil and ocean and that clean, woody musk that MJ knows as him.

Later, they wade around in the sea between batches of sun bathing. At some points, he’s holding her waist-deep in the water with her legs wrapped around his middle and arms around his neck, lips connecting occasionally amidst easy conversation. Other times they have full-on water fights that have her squealing and him laughing as they splash each other back and forth.

It isn’t until the orange and pink hues of the sunset paint the sky that they’re brought back to the beach for good. Once they rinse off and have all of their things collected, they head back to the van.

MJ removes her bikini inside while Grayson reattaches the surfboard to the roof. She slips on her sweatshirt and a fresh pair of soft shorts just in time for him to carefully crack open the back door to make sure she’s decent.

Grayson smiles widely as he crawls in on the already made bed where she sits and is piling her damp hair into a messy bun. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, giving her a lingering kiss while her hands are still mid-twist in her long hair.

A pleasant warmth swoops through her belly at his compliment; it had taken her a while to get accustomed to not only how often Grayson rains sweet praises like that down on her, but how sincerely he means them, too.

She hums into his mouth right before he pulls away. “I left your shorts there, baby,” she says, gesturing behind her with her head. Gray thanks her and she starts to dig through the cooler as he tugs his swimsuit down his inked legs, following them back up with the clean shorts.

They eat dinner with the back doors wide open, a perfect view of the sun setting below the ocean’s horizon right in front of them. A pleasant breeze floats around them in the van, cool and refreshing from being picked up right off the water. MJ nuzzles her cheek on Grayson’s bare shoulder, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head as she chews her last bite of tofu.

“Thank you for such a perfect day,” MJ says a minute later, gazing up at him while he takes a sip of La Croix. “Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I felt so…carefree. Loved. In love. Not that you don’t make me feel those things every day, but… y’know. Today was just great.”

Her hand reaches to caress his stubbly cheek, a soft smile at the corner of her full lips. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Gray.”

Grayson looks down at her silently, but his eyes say everything his lips don’t. He tucks his can and their empty tupperware back into the cooler, tossing the bag into one of the back seats behind them so it’s out of the way.

He cups her cheeks in both hands, wasting no more time in bringing their mouths together. MJ sighs and shifts so she’s that much closer to him, just as his tongue prods gently at her pliant lips to coax them open.

They make out like that, slow and deep, with the soundtrack of crashing waves wafting through the open doors. Gray lies her down and supports the back of her head with his forearm, his free hand swooping up and down her side before settling in the dramatic dip of her waist as he pulls away just barely.

Eyes closed, their breaths come heavy and mingle sweetly in the minute space between them. Grayson suddenly lets out a little incredulous huff, shaking his head and diving back in blindly to suck softly on her bottom lip. MJ lets out a little moan and digs her nails gently down his bare back, her eyes fluttering open.

“What?” she asks with a little smile of her own, nuzzling her nose against his in an Eskimo kiss.

Grayson’s hazel orbs meet her green ones, and the hand resting on her waist comes to cup her face once again so he can stroke the new freckles that litter her high cheekbone.

“I’m gonna marry you,” he answers, chuckling at her shocked little gasp. He hurries to clarify himself. “One day, when we’re ready. You’re my world, MJ. Maybe it’s selfish, or self aggrandizing, but hearing you say that makes it so obvious to me that you’re the only person I’d ever want to spend the rest of my life with. Because I feel the same about you. I only ever want to make you feel that way; nothing makes me happier.”

MJ is stunned into silence. Grayson isn’t exactly the most eloquent person, so somehow she reasons that his perfect delivery of such meaningful words means they’re truly heartfelt. Not that she would have doubted him either way, but their relationship has suddenly shifted even deeper in the matter of one day. One simple, amazing day.

She feels the prickle of tears behind her eyes, and bites her lip through a watery smile as she raises her hand to run her fingers through the back of his hair. No matter how happy she is, her instinct for dealing with any emotions is to deflect with humor. “Can’t wait ’til I pop out a few of your babies. From the sounds of it, you’ll be worshipping the ground I walk on.”

That hits him right in the baby fever, his dick hardening even more behind his shorts at the thought of her belly swollen with his child. Joking or not, she’s absolutely right.

“Fuck,” he whispers, grinning as he ducks his head to nibble her favorite spot just behind her jaw and right under her ear. “How many of my babies? Hm?”

“Mmm,” she sighs, scratching lightly at his scalp, considering the question seriously. “Four little Dolan babies, I think. Three boys and a little girl.”

“Yeah,” Grayson agrees easily, making his way across her jaw with soft little suckles. “But make that three girls and a little boy, and you've got a deal.”

MJ giggles and grabs his face so they’re staring each other in the eye again. “No actual baby-making until there’s a ring on this finger.” She wiggles the digits of her left hand, which Grayson grabs and kisses the back of with a smirk. If only she knew just how close that moment might be. “But we can always practice in the meantime.”

Grayson nods and hitches her leg up his hip as he ducks down for a surprisingly chaste kiss considering her invitation a second before. As much as he wants her, he has a need deep in his chest just to be close to her for the moment. To feel her hold him and nuzzle into the warm crook of his neck, sucking gently on that freckle there to make his head swim like after a nice glass of wine.

MJ is just as happy with that arrangement, and she lets her body be still and her breaths tickle the sensitive skin at his collarbone. The ocean breeze billowing through the open doors of the van is cool and salty and comforting.

“It’s crazy,” Grayson whispers after a few peaceful minutes, his fingers starting to trail up and down her covered back slowly. MJ pulls back a little so she can see his face. He isn't looking at her, but rather out the open van doors at the last moments of the sun setting behind the water. “I remember feeling exactly this way the first day we met, only now it’s…more. You felt right then, so right it was scary. And here we are. How did I know that you were my person as soon as you let me walk you back to that tent?”

MJ smiles and her belly swoops. She thinks back to that night, how scared she had been and how instantly — well, as he said — right Grayson had felt the minute they crossed paths.

“I did kind of seduce you,” she chuckles, lifting her head to nibble at the underside of his chin and reveling in the sensation of his deep chuckle vibrating against her lips. “Maybe you’re just under my Black Widow spell. Have I never let it slip I’m only after your money?”

Grayson laughs louder, squeezing her to his body tighter. “Nope. But that’s the MJ I remember falling head over heels for in a matter of hours. Smart and witty and sweet and so fucking pretty with her green eyes and bright smile.”

MJ stares up at him with stars in those emerald eyes he adores so much. He is unreal to both see and hear; his skin has turned olive and his hair has the crisp of the ocean still in it, and the fact that he can still pinpoint the little things he liked about her from so long ago…

“Do you love me?” she asks quietly. It’s so ridiculously unnecessary to ask, he tells her multiple times a day, every day.

“So much, Peach,” he murmurs back predictably, finally swooping down to capture her lips like she wanted earlier, tongues meshing instantly.

He tastes so familiar and sweet. She wants to devour him slowly, intimately, like she has a thousand times before.

“Close the doors?” MJ gasps after the simple swipe of his thumb over her nipple through her sweatshirt makes her thighs tremble and her hips grind onto his half-hard erection. Something about the heartwarming intimacy of the day has translated to her body being physically sensitive beyond belief.

Grayson nods and sits up, reaching for the switch of the fairy lights MJ had hung up a few weeks ago before slamming the doors shut on the nighttime scenery.

While he does as she asked, she scoots up to rest her head on a pillow and watches his bare, chiseled torso glow in the dim, sensual lights. Right as he turns around he catches her struggling to free herself from her hoodie.

“Let me do it, Peach. I wanna do it,” he breathes, dipping down to kiss her soundly before tugging upward on the hem of the soft fabric. MJ drops her head to the pillow to break the seal of their lips, lifting her arms up so he can pull the garment over her head.

Grayson flings it to the front of the van and brings their mouths together so quickly, like he simply can’t be away from her lips for longer than a second. His hands reach up and cup the pliable mounds of her breasts, which are several shades lighter than the rest of her chest. Clearly, he could care less, and MJ sighs softly as he massages them firmly, his calloused palms creating delicious friction on her hypersensitive nipples.

“Still the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, too,” he smirks, making his way across her jaw. MJ smiles too, eyes closed in bliss as he kisses the familiar trail down her sternum. Predictably, his warm lips suction around the bud of her left breast, and she lets her mind wander through the pleasure to flash back on the first time he did this.

“We’re still kind of in a tent, too, y’know,” she gasps as he switches sides, letting out her first moan of the night when he scrapes his teeth against her. “Just…more bougie.”

Grayson hums, quickly getting lost in the feel of how soft her tits are and how much he loves the sensation of her hard nipples under his tongue. He drops his hips down so he can grind his full erection against her hot center, eliciting wanton gasps from both of them.

MJ groans again, the feminine sound literal music to his ears and the perfect reinforcement to keep going. She hooks her legs around his waist to hold his hips against her, thrusting up against him as he continues to bite and lick and suckle her breasts.

“Holy shit, Gray, right there… I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers, grasping at his hair to hold him down where he was sucking perfectly on her breast, and continues to grind roughly on his dick. Sure enough, a few seconds later she’s shuddering with the most intense orgasm she’s ever had without manual stimulation. Even from Grayson.

Grayson himself can hardly believe it; they have a great sex life, but he can’t remember the last time he had gotten her off just through some intense dry humping.

He isn’t going to question it, though, because it only means one thing: she’s as voracious for him tonight as he is for her. He growls when she starts to come down and surprises her with his mouth planting roughly back on hers. MJ kisses him back lazily as her mind clears some, smiling and fluttering her eyes open to meet his dark gaze when she feels his middle finger replace his tongue in her mouth. She closes her swollen, pouty lips around the digit and sucks, holding onto his hand and maintaining complete eye contact with him when he moans softly. She pulls his hand out of her mouth and pushes it into her shorts.

“Fuck,” he rasps, collecting her slippery cum against his finger, swirling it against his thumb before trailing his middle finger up to her clit. He soaks in her expression as her eyes roll back at the first contact, his favorite reaction she has to his touch. “Fuck, MJ. So fucking wet for me.”

MJ nods quickly, opening her eyes again to watch him watch her. “Lemme taste,” she whimpers.

She pulls his hand back up and doesn’t wait for permission or leave him time to process her demand as she sucks the slick moisture straight off his finger, the taste of herself gracing her tongue causing her pussy to gush even more. When his brain finally catches up, he’s immediately ripping his hand away from her with a harsh groan and hooking it around the back of her neck to kiss her deeply. His tongue plunders her mouth as he searches for traces of that sweet, earthy tang he knows oh-so well. MJ’s hands distractedly push at the waistband of his shorts, desperate for the feel of his dick in her hands.

“Please, baby,” she whines against his lips when they break for air, using the moment of clarity to tug more determinedly at his shorts. “Need you.”

“Need me where?” he teases, backing up so she can’t reach him as he pulls her own shorts down her long, newly tanned legs. Once he flings the scrap of fabric to join her sweater, he ducks down and swipes his tongue quickly over each of her nipples. “Here?”

MJ groans and shakes her head, her brain not operating at enough capacity to tease back, it’s so clouded with desire for him. “Gray…”

Grayson smirks and grabs one of her hands that are coasting down his back and attempting to pull him down against her. He cups her petite palm against his pulsing erection, sighing a little when her fingers wrap around him through his shorts instinctively. He drops his hand and brings it to her pussy, his fingertips dancing delicately against her swollen lower lips. His head swims at how wet she is and how the solid feel of him seems to have brought her mind back to earth, because as soon as he lets go of her hand she delves past his waistband to grip him directly.

“My dick, baby, you need my dick?” he asks softly, his voice a little high and his breath pitchy as she strokes him steadily now.

MJ moans and her pussy throbs simply at his words. She nods hastily. “Need it in me,” she manages, meeting his heated gaze as she gives him a firm squeeze. “Love your dick.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, his touch leaving her as he helps her in getting him completely naked, kicking his shorts off when they reach his ankles.

He takes a moment to gather himself and to slow down, trying to get himself back in that intimate headspace they were so deep in earlier, so that this doesn’t turn into just a hot, hard fuck. They love that, and it’s kind of their bread and butter in the bedroom. But he wants to hold her close and savor her body, to pass that loving energy between them in the most special, physical way.

MJ’s chest heaves as she watches Grayson hover above her, staring at her, and she parts her legs to welcome him back into her space. He looks like a fucking Greek god in the low light, his hair curly from the saltwater and sweat, his skin golden and his muscles bulging. She can’t possibly want him any more than in that moment.

“C’mere,” she whispers, reaching her arms out and making grabby hands at him. She can’t allow another second to go by without the sensation of his smooth skin against hers.

Grayson smiles sweetly at her, eyes sultry as he lowers himself at her request and presses their bodies together from chests to centers. She cups his cheeks and scratches her fingers against his scruff as they kiss slowly, deeply, desire building intensely once again as they grind together at the middle.

“Please, Grayson,” she finally says again.

All thoughts of any more teasing are out the door as Grayson obliges her. He dips his fingers in her pussy, testing her readiness and using her sweet juices to coat his dick.

MJ spreads her legs up and out, bent at the knees, and she throws her head back with a gasp as he enters her in a short thrust; a little more on the second, until he bottoms out with the third.

“Fuck me,” she whimpers, her hands pushing on the firm globes of his ass.

Grayson obeys with a groan, drawing his hips in and out steadily. “Wanna fuck you slow,” he says in her ear, thrusting all the way in and all the way out. The warm clutch of her perfect pussy is so intense at that tempo that he shudders and his eyes roll back. “Slow and deep, Peach.”

“Yes,” MJ agrees, her breaths coming in fast despite the maintained speed of his dick. He’s working her up so good, and she leans forward to bite into the junction of his neck and shoulder out of habit to keep her sounds muffled.

“Yes, baby,” she squeals quietly when her minute adjustment shifts the angle just right for him to hit her spot over and over. Her nails claw at his back, scraping over the work of art that is both his rippling muscles and the picture of the lions inked into them. “Oh my God, keep fucking me like that.. like that…”

The air confined in the van is warm and thick. Sweat drips from the ends of his hair, his hot breaths fan over her forehead, and his chain dangles enticingly across her face as he stares down at her all blissed out beneath him. Nothing turns him on more than her words of encouragement, which are usually muted due to the fact that his omnipresent twin brother lives across the hall. But now that they’re alone, in nature — just like the night they met — all filters are off. It makes him even more determined to get her to cum so hard she forgets any of those sweet praises she’s mumbling other than his name.

It’s already so, so good, but as soon as he gets on his knees just enough to gain more leverage to thrust even harder into her, that knot in MJ’s stomach starts growing in a fantastically unfamiliar way. Her eyes roll back and Grayson reaches a huge hand up to support her head against his shoulder, sensing how perfect the angle is for her and wanting to help her maintain it. She’s getting tighter and wetter around him, so much so that he has to grit his teeth and hiss to avoid having to pull out and stop.

“MJ,” he moans into her ear, tugging on her lobe with his teeth, an unspoken warning that he’s close. He’ll hold on as long as he can, but he absolutely needs to get her there first.

In the back of her mind, she comprehends his cue. But she’s so focused on reaching the bursting point of that expanding ball behind her belly, she can’t help but selfishly draw every ounce of pleasure she can from him. She thinks she knows what’s going to happen, and it will be a first-time experience for both of them.

It’s only going to take a few more deep, hard thrusts, and she’ll be there. Almost there…

“Gray!” she squeaks, squeezing a hand between their bodies to push against his abs, just in time for him to pull out and her to gush all over him and the blankets serving as makeshift sheets beneath them. It’s an indescribable release that washes over her, her own loud, shaky squeals of pleasure distant noises in the back of her head. She can only see colors behind her closed eyelids, greens and blues and lavenders sparkling in her mind’s eye like a mystical fog.

Grayson can’t believe what he’s seeing. His shocked and aroused groan sounds obnoxiously loud and foreign in his own ears; the fact that he doesn’t bust his nut right there on the blanket next to hers is a miracle. Instinctively, he reaches his fingers down to help her through it by rubbing her clit, huffing out an incredulous laugh when her thighs clamp instantly around his hand and a little more of her juices come out, soaking his hand. His name tumbles repeatedly out of her lips, just like he was aiming for and unwittingly exceeding his own expectations.

He’s painfully hard as he leans over her again, kissing her through her mindless whimpers as she starts to slowly come-to, her damp thighs opening once again and allowing him to slip between them. Right where he belongs.

“MJ?” he whispers, stroking her brow softly and watching her face intently. “You okay?”

Eyes still closed and breasts heaving, MJ takes a second to respond, but she moans quietly and nods, puckering her lips in invitation for him to meet with his. He obliges, indulging her for a moment until he can’t wait anymore. “Where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside,” she breathes at once, reaching down to grasp him and bring him to her dripping pussy. Grayson flinches at her sudden grip on him and the overwhelming wetness against the sensitive head of his dick. “Come on, Bear. Want you to cum hard inside me.”

With a groan, he slides back inside her, and a few hard, sloppy thrusts later, he’s shooting deep in her pussy. He’s never cum so hard in his life, and he whines into her mouth with the timing of his spurts. She hums contentedly, obsessed with that feeling of warmth that comes with, well, his cum.

“So good,” he murmurs when he’s finally done, pulling out of her slowly. He grabs a spare towel and cleans up the liquid white that follows him dripping from her center. “That was incredible, MJ. You’re incredible.”

MJ shakes her head in agreement, clapping a hand to her forehead and giggling softly, her knees bent and swaying side to side. “I thought we had done everything to try to get that to happen. Turns out we just had to go back to the beginning.”

Grayson lies down next to her, turning her head with a gentle hand on her cheek so he can press their lips together. “I love you,” he says simply. “My pretty Peach.”

MJ grabs a blanket and tosses it over the both of them, brushing her nose against his once they’re cuddled together. “And I love my Gray Bear. Mine.”

“Yours,” he whispers in affirmation, tucking her head into the crook of his neck until they’re both lulled to sleep in their cozy little bougie tent.

[starrypawz]

Gerry & Nemo + taste ficlet? 😈

AO3

Send me a NSFT HC and write a short fic

Please note: This piece of writing depicts Gerry and Nemo fooling around whilst they are high (Pre negotiated consent), alcohol use is also referenced and light biting

It starts when Nemo climbs into his lap to swipe the joint from Gerry’s fingers. He chuckles and watches it slip between their lips.

(Those lips, he’s been thinking about those lips a lot lately, a couple of days ago Nemo was wearing black lipstick and he found himself constantly thinking about how much he wanted them to leave black marks on his skin and found himself downright jealous of the pint glass that got to bare it)

He reaches out, let’s his thumb catch their bottom lip. Nemo chuckles and Gerry feels his cheeks redden, and his head spin more than it is already as soft lips take the tip of his finger in, just enough to tease.

He’s able to catch the joint from Nemo’s fingers and put it down carefully on top of an empty cider can. And then Nemo’s cupping his face and then kisses him, slow and teasing and giggling against his lips. And he’s kissing back, just as a slow and teasing and giggling and then Nemo starts moving against him and he’s gripping the back of the sofa with one hand and reaching for the still smouldering joint with another and let’s his head tip back over the sofa’s arm. His thoughts are slow and scattered (and he’s thinking a lot about wishing he was that pint glass from the pub the other night) but honestly he feels great.

(One of the coherent parts of him does thank Past Gerry for getting across that ‘If we get high I don’t mind fooling around a bit, handjobs and/or oral only, okay?)

He feels Nemo shift, move down his body a bit so they can mouth at his neck, then kiss and then they bite at that one spot on his neck that does that fun giddy twisty thing to his stomach and makes his eyes roll back.

And then he moans.

And then Nemo is giggling again, (And it’s so cute like… like… Tinkerbell?) and he’s giggling too and then snatches the joint from their fingers and places it on that empty can again.

“You’re so… so fucking cute,” He manages before it’s his turn to cup Nemo’s face and nips their lip before kissing them, a bit clumsy, a bit sloppy but it feels amazing. Nemo licks at his bottom lip, kisses becoming progressively more erratic, switching between gentle and hard, fast and slow, all a little sloppy and all the time Gerry can feel Nemo’s hips rocking at him and it’s making him ache in good ways, as he feels the friction of fabric against his cock.

Nemo giggles again, “Oh you’re getting hard,” Their words a little drawn out, a little sloppy like the kisses. (That would be even better with black lipstick) “Yeah,” His grin just as drawn out.

“Want me to get you off?” Nemo’s words still a little sloppy,, nibbles at his lip again, as they grind on him more and Gerry tries very hard not to buck.

Gerry swallows, head swimming and voice a touch needy “Please,”

Nemo gives him another giggly kiss as they reach between them, giggles as they struggle a little to undo the button on his jeans, edges the zip down a little and with a grin slips their hand in, (Manages although it’s a bit tight) and…

“Ooooh,” Nemo giggles again as they palm him as best they can, a little clumsy, voice going a little singsong “You’re not wearing any underwear,” Gerry laughs, head lolls back, his voice also a little singsong, “Sometimes I don’t,”

Nemo pulls his zipper down further, Gerry shifts a squirms to help work the Jeans down off his hip and he gives a relived, low moan as he’s freed from tight denim. With a hand between them Nemo straddles him, wraps their hand around and starts to work slowly, giggling. And then those amazing, sloppy kisses continue, punctuated with the occasional moan and giggle.

It’s not long before Gerry’s bucking into Nemo’s hand, Nemo’s thumb running over his slit. And then with a sound that comes out more of a needy whine than a moan cums, and his eyes shut and his hips bucking he cums over Nemo’s fingers as they’re giggling against his neck and they manage to bite that perfect little spot just as he’s cumming. (And holy shit does that feel fucking amazing)

“Oops,” Gerry giggles at the sight of Nemo’s hand, thoughts still hazy and swirling about Nemo’s Tinkerbell giggle and them being fucking cute and how good it feels when they bite that spot on his neck and how he really wishes he was that pint glass from the pub. And all other swirling hazy thoughts about various things about Nemo but they don’t mean anything more than Nemo’s his friend? And sometimes they kiss, and sometimes they get high? And today they got high, kissed and Nemo gave him a handjob and he came all over their fingers? Means nothing more than that… right?

(But his thoughts are too hazy and the white rabbit has already jumped down that hole and he’s forgotten what the dormouse said and he’s not sure if he should ask Alice when she’s ten feet tall or wait until she was just small.)

Watches as Nemo’s tongue swipes over their hand with a pleased, horny little hum and it makes him twitch and squirm. And then Nemo’s pressing their fingers against his bottom lip and he eagerly opens his mouth and runs his tongue over Nemo’s fingers, moans softly as he tastes himself on Nemo’s fingers (and he’ll admit it… he? tastes amazing)

“You’re… really cute when you cum-”

And Nemo is giving that Tinkerbell giggle again.