#there's so little to hold onto here. isn't it worth trying to focus on the nice things

[lemon-berri]

"You're s'pretty.. will you marry me?"

"Toru.. we've been married for two years..."

Your husband, Gojo Satoru, is a lightweight.

You know it. He knows it. Everyone knows it. Yet for whatever reason he had decided to drink when you'd gone out tonight.

Three shots. It had taken three shots to get here. He's on one knee in the middle of the bar, holding up a shot glass instead of a ring as he attempts to propose to you.

At the mention that you're already married, his big blue eyes light up. He grins. The innocence in his expression is completely at odds with the amount of trouble he's causing you right now.

"Reeeaally?" He chuckles out. "Wow.. m' so lucky!

Without warning, he stands up, suddenly towering over you. He picks you up, twirling you around and almost hitting several bar patrons in the process. You yelp, but his grip on you only tightens.

"Have we had a honeymoon..?" He asks.

"Satoru, put me down-" you start to say, despite the smile on your face.

"Let's go have one right now!"

"Wha-"

You're entirely helpless as the man carries you off, your friends and colleagues all but forgotten. And you most definitely do not know where he's taking you on this supposed honeymoon.

Given the fact that he attempted to propose to you with a shot glass, you're sure this can't be good.

This adventure is short lived however, when he sets you down on the dance floor. Twirling you around. His eyes roam over your figure appreciatevly, pausing on your smile. The expression on his face matches your own.

"Is this our honeymoon?" You ask him.

"Eeeeh? What honeymoon?" He answers, a little too loudly.

Really, Satoru is drunk enough that you should be taking him home. But he's making that almost impossible for you, as his strong arms wrap around you on the dance floor. There isn't much space for you to escape, not with the amount of people here.

So you let him have his fun, indulge him for now. You dance and laugh and let him kiss you in front of everyone. His breath tastes like alcohol and whatever fruity liqueur he's been having, and he smiles against your lips. You're a little tipsy yourself so you don't notice as the hours drift away.

It's much later when you finally drag your mountain of a man home. He's leaning his large body onto yours, swaying back and fourth with every step.

"Come on you" You say "let's get you ready for bed"

"Bed.." He hums. That seems to be the only word he registered, because he lifts you up once again and carries you off to your shared bedroom.

"Toru!" You yelp. "We gotta change- and I have to wash my face-"

It all goes unheard. He pulls you into bed, long limbs wrapping around you, making it impossible to move. He nuzzles against your shoulder, till all you can see is his mess of white hair.

"We'll get the bed dirty.." you complain, even as your hand comes to brush over his undercut. The sensation sends shivers down your husband's spine.

"Love you..  s' very much.. you know that? You're.. my world" He mutters out. His voice is soft, tired, and almost childlike in innocence.

You take a moment to respond, it seems like he's not intent on moving anytime soon. "I know.. I love you too"

"I'm so lucky..." His voice draws out on the last word. And you feel him relaxing with tiredness.

Satoru will most definitely have a headache in the morning. If not because of the alcohol then because he lost his blindfold somewhere at the bar. But you try not to think about that.

Instead, you focus on his soft breaths, and the comfortable weight of having him wrapped around you like this. You wonder how he could be so adorable, even when he's causing this much trouble.

But the trouble is all worth it. It always will be for him.

Credits for the dividers go to @aquazero

The blue manga panels were edited by myself 🫧

Once again thank you so much for reading! This took ages to write because I have 0 motivation at any given time.

I hope you enjoyed 🌟

[3laf-kaazisscared]

"THE SPLENDOUR OF LIFE, AND THE SILENCE OF DEATH. AS IF HE STANDS ON THE LINE BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH, DRUNK ON ONLY THE ASPECTS OF BEAUTY IN THEM BOTH. WHO ARE YOU, REALLY?"

I saw faeshine flowers, they reminded me of you so I took a photo

VEhFIFNQTEVORE9VUiBPRiBMSUZFLCBBTkQgVEhFIFNJTEVOQ0UgT0YgREVBVEguIEFTIElGIEhFIFNUQU5EUyBPTiBUSEUgTElORSBCRVRXRUVOIExJRkUgQU5EIERFQVRILCBEUlVOSyBPTiBPTkxZIFRIRSBBU1BFQ1RTIE9GIEJFQVVUWSBJTiBUSEVNIEJPVEguIFdITyBBUkUgWU9VLCBSRUFMTFk/

[devilfic]

❝friends of the web❞

plot: you have a fear of spiders, but you've made a promise to work past it. peter thinks your determination is really quite adorable. pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: fluff, humor, established relationship, spiders (not graphic), reader has arachnophobia but is being so brave about it, based on the poem "ten legs, eight broken" by I, e on tiktok because it fundamentally changed the way I interact with small bugs forevermore. words: 1.2k.

a/n: I have had pretty bad arachnophobia my entire life and after reading ten legs, eight broken a while back, it convinced me to start saving little spiders I find in my house. this fic is 100% based on how that ends up going every single time. minus peter parker coming to save the day

He's careful, stomach coiled tight to control his breathing. One hand is delicately pinching a bolt with tweezers, the other holding his webshooter frighteningly still. One wrong move would trigger the suspension, and about four hours' worth of fluid refill would end up all over his research notes. He has to be slow. He lowers the tweezers another half inch.

Gently, the bolt's thread catches and he releases the breath he'd been holding. In that same moment, you shout and his tweezers slip.

It's the feeling of webs spraying him in the face that he registers first, their tendrils catching onto his glasses and eyelashes and lips. Then it's your rushed breathing, the pumping of your heart nearly beating out of your chest. He doesn't feel a tingle along his spine but your shout jolts Peter out of his spell. In an instant, he's batting away the webs and throwing himself out of his office with enough velocity to take down a wall. He's expecting scorpions, vultures, lizards, his hearing zeroing in on you, and-

-and he turns the corner and there's you, crouched on the floor, hands cupped in front of you—cocooning something. "Hey, hey, hey, whoa, whoa." Peter's eyes flit around the room, looking for the threat his senses ought to have picked up on by now, and kneels beside you. He focuses on your hands and your complete and utter lack of urgency. "What's going on?"

You glance to the side, so quick he doesn't even think you register the panic on his face, "Pete, thank God. Can you talk to this thing for me?"

You move your hand and the other breathing thing in the room becomes apparent. A spider, barely the size of a crumb, is crawling over mountains of carpet thread. It's moving quickly but in circles, clearly confounded by the terrain. Peter looks at you. He drags each syllable out as he asks, "What is happening?"

You shift and Peter shifts with you, keeping an eye on the spider, "This thing- this spider is such a jackass."

"Yeah?"

"I'm trying to get him outside and he won't go."

You've got a flier for Pilates in the Park clenched in one hand, while the other is cautiously putting a wall between the spider and the abyss under your sofa, a place where even Peter dares not go. "Why don't you just kill it?"

Clearly that was the wrong thing to say. You look horrified at him as you answer, "I can't kill him!"

"Do we- are we sure it's a him? Have you decided he's a him?"

"I made a promise to myself that I would stop killing."

"I don't think... okay, what is going on here?"

You struggle to explain and focus on the spider at the same time, "It's a resolution I made for the new year. That even though I'm terrified of these things, I won't kill them anymore because... because they're living beings just like me." Peter watches you bite your lip, a twinge of pity sewn into the divot between your furrowed brows, "So I'm putting them outside whenever I see one... if only they would stop being jackasses about it."

Peter half-laughs, half-sighs. The little spider crawling around on the ground is none the wiser to your inner peril, "This isn't just because your boyfriend is, like, 1/3 spider, is it? I won't take it personally if you hit him with a shoe."

You snort and place your flier in front of the escaping spider, watching it crawl over the word "yoga" before making a u-turn for the carpet, "Of course not, my spider overlord."

You try to scoop up the spider again but every time you lift the paper, it dives off the other side and back into the carpet. "How long does this usually take?" Peter asks. He sits back on his ass, propping up a knee to rest his arm on.

"Ten minutes at best. If I don't lose them."

"Hm. And this works for you?"

You pout up at him, scooping up the spider again and watching it fly off once more, "I usually manage to get them outside, I'll have you know."

"And the screaming?"

"I never said it was a peaceful process."

"So, let me get this straight," Peter leans into you, "you spot the spider, you grab the nearest piece of paper, you try to get the spider on the paper, and then you...?"

"Scream and run until I make it to the window."

"Why- why the screaming?"

You wince, trying not to lose the bug in the carpet, "Because I'm scared they'll touch me." Your boyfriend tickles his fingers along your arm and you shiver, swatting him with your free hand.

After another failed attempt, Peter places his hand in front of the spider's path and it crawls into his palm to get to the kitchen. Before it can cross over into tiled territory, it's forced to a sudden stop, and Peter takes advantage.

It takes him three strides to get to the living room window, yank it open, and release the spiderling into the wild.

You're standing behind him with a look of frustration on your face, even though your shoulders have finally sagged with relief, "How'd you convince him to sit in your hand like that?"

"I didn't. Sticky hands." Peter wiggles all his fingers at you, amused.

"Wh- that's it? Do they not usually listen to you or something?" You grab one of his hands and quickly realize he's using that ability on you this time. He's got you stuck in a handhold.

"I can't remember when I ever said I could talk to spiders."

"I mean, it seems like a pretty fair assumption," you grumble, trying to shake his hand away before giving in, "they put their juices in you after all."

"Why would you say that?"

"Thanks for the help, by the way. I'm still... getting used to not panicking when I see them."

Peter raises his other hand to your hair and gives you a kiss on the temple, smiling against your skin, "You are so, so, so brave."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's pretty brave to show mercy to something you fear, right? You could've killed it or asked me to do it, but you didn't. You wanted it to live."

"It doesn't mean to scare me," you bring your intertwined hands up to your mouth and press a kiss to his knuckles, "I'd want it to take pity on me if it was the other way around."

"I think the spiders will appreciate that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Then why do they give me such a hard time?"

"Well, you're so scared of them that you don't even realize they're just as scared of you. You gotta make 'em like you, you know?"

"Got any tips for that?"

Peter guides his free hand to your waist, rocking you side to side, "Hm. Buy them sushi. Take them to a midnight showing of Night of the Living Dead. Tell him you think his nerdy rambling after the movie is sexy..." You giggle into Peter's chest and his heart swells, "Don't laugh! It worked on me."

You tilt your head up and he steals a kiss without hesitation, making you stumble on what you say next, "How about you just come let them out for me next time, hm?"

"And if I'm not around?"

"...make me a super scientific spider catching gadget?"

Peter hooks his hands underneath your thighs and hikes you up around his waist, "I'll make you one if you refill my web fluid for me."

"You can fill me with your web fluid."

"Okay. I'm putting you in time out, freak."

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Hey!!!! I literally love your writing, could I request comfort prompt 2 with Bruce? You write him sooooo well :)

Sorry this one took me so long, nonnie!

Prompt: Giving them a shoulder massage when they won’t leave whatever they’re working on

"You're still down here?"

"You're still asking questions that you clearly know the answer to?"

You rolled your eyes, planting your hands on your hips as you eyed Bruce's hunched shoulders. He didn't even bother to look up as he sassed you, just stayed focused on whatever it was in front of him.

"Bruce, you need to sleep."

"Bats are nocturnal."

"And you're a man, so I don't know exactly what point you're trying to make right now. Aren't you expected at a ribbon cutting tomorrow morning?"

"They just want me for my deep pockets...And my giant scissors."

"Bruce," You whined, walking more deeply into the batcave. You stopped behind him, running your hands over his shoulders and beginning to gently work the tense muscle there. He hardly moved as you lean over him a little, taking in the marked map he's looking over. "What is that?"

"Reports of sightings of Crane."

"Jonathan Crane? That—Scarecrow guy?"

"Mm."

You frowned, curling your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling his hair. "You planning on going after him?"

"Tomorrow night."

"It'd be a real shame if you were so damn tired that you missed him, wouldn't it."

Bruce finally shifted, and you straightened up as he tipped his head back against you.

"You're very subtle."

"I'm not trying to be subtle, Bruce," You sighed, stroking your knuckles along his jaw. "I'm just trying to keep you alive."

Bruce's lips pursed before he gave a nod. You smiled, relaxing as he stood, taking hold of your hand and leading the way toward the elevator.

"You know, I'm worth more to you dead."

"That isn't funny."

"I'm not joking."

"You think I'll go running to the papers with an exposé? My Lover Was Batman?"

"No need after they read the will."

You went still, brow furrowing as Bruce stepped onto the elevator. He turned back toward you calmly, brows raising as he held his hand out again.

"You coming?"

"Bruce."

"I thought you wanted me to rest."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Bruce."

"Are we going to bed or not?"

You hesitated before you took his hand and stepped onto the elevator beside him, eyes narrowed as you searched Bruce's expression.

"I find you very suspicious, Mr. Wayne."

"You've got nothing to worry about."

"Right now, or ever?"

"Let's just focus on right now."

[oliversrarebooks]

Brainwashing Chair CYOA - Save Your Strength

Masterlist > Next

tw: pet whump, restraints, drugging, conditioning

you chose: save your strength

The handler is pushing an ominous black mask closer to your face, and you can't seem to think of a way that you're not entirely screwed. 

Perhaps it was a little too easy to confidently state that you're willing to risk your mind when you were safe and surrounded by your journalist group, eager to reveal the sordid secrets of pet processing. Now, confronted by the very real possibility that your mind is going to be permanently altered, you can't help but wonder if it's worth it.

You hope at the very least your group is getting good footage of this.

Overtly struggling seems pointless when you're restrained and surrounded, and they've threatened to do something worse to you if you fight them too much. You think that if you want to make it out of here intact, you're going to have to choose your battles. Still, you can't keep yourself from holding your breath as the mask seals firmly around your mouth and nose, not terribly eager to be drugged again.

"Just take a deep breath," the man says, as he straps the mask around the back of your head. "Count backwards from ten if you like. Soon, you won't be worrying about a thing."

"You can't hold your breath forever," says the woman, as your lungs start to burn. "Make it easy on yourself and breathe."

She is, unfortunately, right. You can't hold your breath forever. You eventually have to take a breath, choking down the artificial scent of flowers. Your head is spinning from it -- whatever they're drugging you with is potent, and there's no way you can avoid breathing for long. You're just going to have to try and keep yourself awake and aware as much as you can.

The handlers are hovering around the chair, their complete nonchalance adding to your humiliation. "Did you put in an order for lunch?" the woman says.

"Oh, I think I missed the group order. What was it?"

"Mexican. But I wish... cool local place..."

You realize that you're sinking into a kind of daze. It's hard to focus on their conversation. You try to shake off the feeling, but it's filling your head like cotton wool. The drugged gas is quickly getting to you -- you're starting to feel so drowsy and your eyelids are slowly drooping downwards.

But being sedated isn't really what's worrying you. The larger problem is that it's beginning to feel nice. There's a lovely warmth spreading all over your body, and a strange euphoria blossoming in your brain. It feels good. So good. 

Your terror at having your mind altered, your fear of being found out, your uncertainty about what you've gotten yourself into -- all of that is melting away, slipping through your grasp even as you try to hold onto it. It's becoming difficult to focus for long on any of those complex, scary thoughts. Not when you feel so amazing, like everything's going to be okay.

Maybe everything is going to be okay. You feel so warm and blissful and you're so sleepy. Maybe it's fine to just relax and let whatever's going to happen, happen.

...No! That's just the gas, not how you really feel about it. You can't stop yourself from being drugged, but you can fight against the effects.

...but it's a lot of effort compared to just laying back and breathing the nice gas that's making you feel so, so good...

"Looks like it's kicking in now." The woman is talking about you, startling you as you were starting to drift off. "I'll start the program."

"Great, then we can get lunch."

Lunch? How long are they going to leave you here under the effects of this gas? Isn't that dangerous? You're not sure what worries you more: the idea that they're going to be leaving you alone and drugged for god knows how long, or the fact that part of you is more than happy to melt into the chair and let the soothing sensations just wash over you.

The man dims the lights in the room as the woman slips a pair of headphones over your ears. You hear a sound that's like a cross between pouring rain and white noise, and beneath it, words that are difficult to make out. Subliminals? Those don't actually work, do they?

What are they saying? You strain to hear it.

At the sound of the door clicking, you shake yourself out of a daze once again. The handlers are gone. Maybe you can free yourself? Do... something...?

The darkened room is blurry and indistinct around you, and your limbs feel heavy. Your eyes are blinking slowly as you try to keep yourself awake. There has to be something you can do before you lose yourself completely...

Masterlist > Next

[bingbongsupremacy]

Knock knock Pt. 2 (Last Part)

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

Warnings: Use of pet name 'baby' and nick names.

Summary: A simple request to turn the music down turns into a frustrating back and forth battle. Why does your neighbor have to be so damn attractive?

This fic does not mention anything about the way the readers' body is shaped, their weight, their height, etc. If I happened to miss something or accidentally described the readers' appearance anywhere, please let me know so I can fix it.

*Not Proof Read*

ABC List TLOU Master list

*****

" You fucking narc. " Venom drips off of Ellie's voice. Her eyebrows are drawn together, anger splayed across her face.

I hold onto the door handle tightly, staring at the girl on the porch. " I told you what would happen if you didn't shut your little party down. I'm not playing. Williams. " I try to keep my tone cool.

" I'm not either. This isn't over. " With that, Ellie storms away. She slams her front door, mumbling to herself in the process.

Serves her right.

------

" I'm going to kill Ellie Williams. " I huff, burying my head into my hands.

Loud, music vibrates off of the walls. Dina rolls her eyes. " You just keep making things worse by pranking her. She was pissed when you sent 50 pizzas over and she had to pay. No wonder she's throwing another party. "

" She'll easily make the $300 back. She sells fucking drugs, she makes more than I do. " I mutter.

" Maybe try talking to her again? I mean, if it's bugging you that much, it's always worth another shot. Just don't piss her off this time. " Abby suggests, her eyes not tearing away from the medical anatomy book in her hands.

" She's pissed off by everything I do. I literally asked to borrow a pencil once and she told me to fuck off. " I sigh. " But I guess it's worth a shot. Are you guys seriously not bothered by the constant noise? "

Dina shrugs. " Not really. I mean, we live on party row. Of course people are going to throw parties all night. "

I just want some peace. At least like an hour.

I push myself up from my spot on our couch. I'll just try asking nicer.

Once again, I find myself wandering through Ellie's house trying to find her. Eventually my eyes land on the brunette. Her head is tossed back from laughter, her blunt loosely hanging out of her fingers. She's manspreading on the couch, a guy snorting what I assume is coke next to her.

Her eyes eventually find mine as she scans the room. A small smirk makes its' way onto her face. She breathes in another puff from her blunt before releasing it in my direction.

God, even through the smoke she's hot.

" Look who's here guys, the cockblocker. " Ellie teases. " What can I do for you, babe? "

My stomach tumbles from the pet name. I can't tell if it's from nerves or from excitement.

I ignore the feeling, trying to focus on the reason I came over here.

" I wanted to see if we could work out a deal. " I stand a few feet away from the brunette, my eyes not leaving hers.

Ellie's eyes break contact as they scan me up and down. " A deal? " She leans forward, her full attention on me. " What kind of deal? " her eyebrow cocks up in curiosity.

" The kind where we both end up happy. You get to throw your parties and I get a full nights' sleep. "

Ellie stands up, taking a step closer to me. The faint scent of cologne and weed fills my nostrils. " Go on. "

" I'll pay you 100 bucks a week to shut the parties down at 10. Please. "

" No. " Ellie's voice is cool.

I furrow my eyebrows. " No? " I was really hoping she'd take the deal. I mean, who doesn't want free fucking money. The only thing she'd have to do is shut down the party. " What? Um, fine. I can probably do like 10 bucks more. But barely, I'd have to pick up a few more shifts. I- "

Ellie interrupts me. " I don't want your money, Y/N. "

" Then what do you want? " I ask, desperation in my tone. " I can't stay up like this anymore. I've-I've tried earplugs, white nose, everything. Fuck I- "

" I want you to go out with me. "

Ellie's words surprise me.

I search her face for any sign of a joke.

Her expression is serious. Her eyes stare into mine. A glinter of what I think might be worry or nervousness shining at me.

" What? "

Ellie repeats the words. " I want you to go out with me. I'll stop the parties if you go out with me. " She shrugs, pulling the blunt up to her slightly chapped lips.

My eyebrows furrow. " But why? "

Ellie rolls her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. " Because you clearly want to. Don't think I haven't noticed the way you check me out. Not that I have an issue, I think you're hot too. "

I feel heat burn against my cheeks. " I do not check you out. "

Ellie nods mockingly. " Sure you don't, babe. What I said still stands. If you go on a date with me, " She shrugs. " I'll stop the parties. "

" Completely? " I ask.

" Completely. " She confirms.

I'm silent for a minute. Ellie continues to look into my eyes, her confident exterior seeming to grow slightly less confident as the time goes on. She looks a little nervous. I've never seen her like this before.

" Fine. " I finally talk. " I'll go out with you. "

Relief flashes across Ellie's face. " Alright. " She grins. " Friday sound good? "

I nod. " Friday. "

Hopefully this is worth it.

Tag: @macaroni676

[ariesmusingz]

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ╱ saves the world sentence starters pt 2 ( created using lyrics from muna's saves the world album. feel free to adjust to fit your muse. )

so i let it happen again

i loved someone who's indifferent

that's why i can't sleep at night

that's why i keep sleeping in

so i started over again

i got back onto that medicine

i don't like when dreaming ends

there's a pink light in my apartment

it comes mid-morning as a reminder

at the right time, in the right surroundings, i will be lovely

i can't help thinking that maybe if you stayed for an hour or two

maybe if you'd seen the soft pink light i wouldn't be alone tonight

i'm living inside my mind

i keep retracting that storyline

thinking if i start again, i can change the way it ends

maybe i will always keep a little piece of this belief

if it isn't you who sees then there isn't any pink light in my apartment

waited a minute till you went in

we talked and then we stopped talking

put on a song and we listened

i know that i make you nervous

i do it half on purpose

you know i think you're precious

i think you're a good person

so why do i wanna blow up your life?

i'll be a very good girl

i won't even think about it

i'm just feeling like i can't help it

i know you said you had a girlfriend

i just want it if it's taken

dad left when i was 11

mom said it was cause he couldn't keep from tocuhing other women

some things have a way of sticking

now i'm standing in your kitchen

you said you told her you were leaving

i can't help thinking i hate you 'cause you're just like him

so why did i have to blow up your life?

i just thought that if i could take you from her, maybe then it would prove that i'm worth something

now i'm alone and i'm hurt

wishing i'd taken you at your word when you said you were taken

i know you said it

i just want it

i see you

it's been some time since i've seen you last

you know the night

i bet you know the night

i'm here

you're here

it's in the air like a firefly

it's june and july

i know you're bad for me

when you say you want me again

i can feel you up on me

it hits me all of the sudden

you can't touch

get your hands off me

there's no reason

i'm free

i get so high every time

happens every time

a damn idea

i focus then i hold that feeling inside

got this feeling inside

i want you

come closer

i feel like i've been here before

you want the power

you tell me it's now or never

you think i'm playing hard to get

this must be hard to get

you've got to get your hands off

you think i'm playing with your head

do you need me to do the chorus again?

i must be some great feeler

i must be really deep

i had a major crisis

when you stopped calling me i saw a psychic healer

she just turned 17

all that she said was to do what i want

like i'm supposed to know what that means

i'm gonna figure it out

i'm already here and i won't leave now

put a pot of coffee on

i'm just having a time

the good news is, if you don't like life, they say it doesn't last long

i was sad in the kitchen

tearing myself apart

trying to search for the piece that i'm missing

i didn't know where to start

i went to an art exhibit

there wasn't any art

all that there was, was a sink and some dishes

be where you are

i know it's not just me who thinks it is just me

got a bee sting on the way back from your house

it was crawing up my leg inside my car

something 'bout the way i had to pull it out

never healed quite right and now i've got a scar

i'm glad it left a mark

remind me what it was like seem i forget

when i'm drinking or i'm thinking with my heart

baby this is what you get when you're reckless and you're playing in the dark

you're gonna move to new york and experiment with communism

go down on a girl after reading her some frantz fanon

you'll go out of your way trying to find some place you can hide and get high

you're gonna call your mom

you're gonna cut off your hair with dull scissors from the desk in your dorm room

learn by trial and error that threesomes are more sad than fun

you're gonna move to la

guess you're running away from the patterns you have and the decisions you've made

yeah you're gonna sit in the sun

it's gonna be okay

you're gonna smoke cigarettes on the ground beside the pool at stardust

you're gonna get obsessed with a boy who's hooked on heroin

you'll have some all-time nights dancing outside with lcd on the speaker

you're drinking dark pink wine

you're gonna lose those friends

you're gonna fall in love with a girl which you were not expecting

you're gonna start a band

it's just her, another friend and you

then you get freaked out

you say something about how you just can't commit

you move into your aunt's house and all your dreams come true

you're going to come to depend on the sec of a sadistic stranger

you're gonna learn to pretend

you lie about it to save face

the morning you awake in the deepest of pain that you've ever been in

you admit you've got to quit him

you're gonna learn to pray

you're gonna start to call friends

you're gonna start to call yourself an addict

you finally read zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance

you're gonna clean out your drawers

you're gonna feel much more like god is a mystery and jesus is a metaphor

you're gonna tell your reflection

[kouxbe]

christmas open mic kou performing ... d.o that's okay

it hadn't been something he'd planned. though again, kou was never someone who meshed well with the idea of planning – for some reason, his life had always felt like a pile of things accidentally falling into place.

it comes in hushed whispers from the trainees at the building. an open mic night – a somewhat good way to try and get some exposure and experience. probably not the most effective, but the trainees there seemed desperate enough to grab onto anything. and most of them genuinely seemed as though they liked the idea of performing for a crowd.

"you should do it too kou," a trainee says, nudging kou's shoulder.

"huh? me?"

"why not? you've been here for a month already. don't you wanna see how much you've improved?"

kou blinks. "i don't think i've improved that much though..."

-

it's his turn to step on stage. the idea of performing in front of a crowd isn't foreign to him, he's done it enough in japan, and more often than one would think in korea ( next gen and dead calm ), but it's a little different now, standing on stage alone with nothing but his guitar and just a month's worth of training on his back.

"uhm, hello. i'm sato kou," he bows, and his head accidentally hits the mic, causing it to make a high pitched noise. "oh sorry," he says, blinking. "i'll be performing a song, that i've been really into lately. it's called that's okay."

he wants to say something else, wants to say that this song is dedicated to a special person, someone he holds close to his heart and can't seem to stop thinking about. that the lyrics have somehow perfectly expressed his own emotions. but he doesn't, because he's both short on time and isn't sure if a trainee publicly professing their love for someone else is the best thing to do.

"so for y...ou... all out there, that's okay." close enough.

he strums his guitar and a soft melody begins to play, no longer is he the boy that had accidentally hit his head on the microphone.

i feel like i'm losing myself in the many emotions that have gone by from a certain point, i became used to the rules i follow to hide my heart, oh, uh, oh

he begins to sing, and quite honestly he feels as though there's been some sort of improvement with his pronunciation. he continues to sing, voice floating through the crowd.

like time passing all the happy days and all the heart-breaking days i’m naturally letting them go like the sun and moon that rises and sets

he's a lot more comfortable now, singing. though as he's singing, a face appears in the back of his head. singing is the closest thing to pouring his heart out, and he feels as though he's doing so in front of a crowd. an unspoken public confession.

it's then when he tears his eyes away from his guitar and looks up at the audience. yuwol is there, yuwol is there and he's looking at him and kou wants to rip out his soul and give it to yuwol right there and then. he wants to place it on a silver platter, he wants the words – his voice – to be the only thing that yuwol can focus on.

his heart tightens and there's a sort of fluttering in his chest that seems to have been bottled up from his stomach. butterflies, is what they call it. he can't seem to tear his eyes away from yuwol. so pretty, so so pretty. in a sea of people, his eyes can only spot yuwol.

like the countless stars always in the same place i'll shine as much as i can so don’t hide yourself but show me you, just as you are, it’s alright, it’s alright

he smiles, and it's bright. kou's never been a big smiler, his own mother had pointed it out to him years ago ( you can't keep that blank expression forever! ) but when he's with yuwol – when he sees yuwol, he's so overwhelmed with happiness that smiling only feels natural.

it's alright, it's alright.

today, for the first time i faced my honest heart i even hesitate to stand in front of the mirror why is my face so awkward?

he likes yuwol. kou likes yuwol, he really likes yuwol. that is his honest heart. he wonders momentarily if yuwol can understand the depth of his feelings? if the song is reaching him? and then, he wonders if he'll ever reach yuwol.

all the unspoken worries all the deeply paved scars time always passes at the same speed tt will wash it all away just like always so you can just go with the flow, it’s alright, it’s alright

he ends off the song with the chorus, his fingers against the guitar strings slowly fading away. "thank you," he says into the mic, before bowing. once more, the top of his head hits the mic and a loud echo spreads across the bar. "oh, sorry."

[fatalled]

「 KYUNGSEOK — & saint. ( @agentbilliard ) 」 CLOSED HALLOWEEN STARTER. LOCATION: TRICK 'R' TREAT ROUTE.

They are nearly done. & Kyungseok is more than ready to be done.

"Can we see your bow now?" One of the kids next to him asks, looking up through his skeletal mask. His face is already smudged from how many times he's been adjusting his mask. It's been one of the biggest questions of the night. Can I see your bow? Show us your bow! Can we see it now? Can I hold the bow? I wanna shoot it! The entire route had been filled with questions. They either wanted to see the bow or they wanted to know what the other heroes were doing.

Kyungseok flashes a smile, the one most practiced for Loveshot.

"That wasn't part of the deal, my friend. A hero keeps his word, right? Once we finish the route and head back, then I will show you the bow."

"But that'll take for-ehv-er!" The long words are enuciated with heavy, dragging steps. Their light-up sneakers engaging with every stomp.

"He said we have to wait! We gotta be patient!" The little girl holding onto his hand says, trying to have a conversation around Kyungseok. She was dressed nearly the same as Loveshot except someone had added a cape, sparkles, and a mask. ( Kyungseok did not wear mask. It interfered with his periphery. All of the costumes, however, added a mask. ) The pink and glittery bow in her other hand rattled against her plastic pumpkin. You're favorite color is pink and so is mine! had been the first thing she said to him after bolting across the lawn as soon as he showed up.

She is the daughter of some senator, some politician, someone up in those ranks with enough money to pull enough strings to get Cerberus to look. Heroes, they wanted. Heroes for their children. Nothing but the best for their kids. ( A smoke screen. Kyungseok knew he was there because they did not want to be there. Their children were an inconvenience that beheld them to tradition. My child has to go trick or treating but I won't be the one taking them. ) All ten of them, walking in a haphazard line up the street, were the children of the rich and famous.

Maybe that is what he lets her hold onto his hand. He had been the child of an important person and it nearly cost him his life.

"Patience is a virtue that every hero needs. It's just powers or being strong. The things you can't see are also important. Waiting is hard, I know, but the reward is often worth it."

"Waiting is boring!" Another kid pipes up. She is dressed in a mixture costumes that seem to range from Hades to Granite to Glimmer. "Show us now! Show us fire! Can you shoot fire? Or-or water too? Can, can Whirlpool also do ice if he ... if he can ... if he has cold water?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. I'll have to ask him the next time I can see him but Ymir can control ice while Whirlpool can control water. I can't do any of that."

"Why not?"

"Those aren't my powers. Those belong to my friends. I shoot arrows, that's all I do." Extremely well and extremely capably but a child is always going to want flash. The bow is his flash but he isn't going to summon it here. It required concentration and calm. He wouldn't be able to focus on the kids and that is where he needed to have his full attention.

"That's kinda lame. My dad—my dad said ... he said that heroes have to do what we ... we say. So, really, I'm your boss."

"Wow," he keeps the smile on. "A sudden change in management."

"Yeah, so, as your boss. You have to show me your bow."

"I will show you the bow after a few more houses, my friend. I promise. Boss."

The next house glitters with orange lights and flickering pumpkins. Ghosts hold their arms out, haunting the gravestones that litter the yard. Kyungseok squeezes the little girl's hand and sends her off with the group up the steps in order to ring the doorbell. He stands back with his ... partner. Agent Billiard. Telekinesis although the mission report log hadn't been too impressive. He hadn't seen him around, honestly. & if Kyungseok is being honest, he didn't take the time to learn the Level III agents. They were ... well, to put it bluntly, beneath him.

"I am ... ready to leave. Do you think they would notice if we cut it a few houses short?"

[lightsiided]

     she forces herself to exhale, finding comfort in the warmth of thor's embrace. as he pulls her closer, she tries to get her racing pulse to calm. thor is still here. he remains with her, and he is right -- nothing has happened YET. and they will both do their best to ensure nothing does happen. moreover, there is no limit to what SHE will do. "i know. i'm sorry." rey takes a second to balance herself, sliding her hands along thor's arms. she has to hold onto her hope. she has to believe gorr will not win, that they will fix all of this. it is ALL SHE HAS. "we can travel there with thunderbolt?"

despite thor's confidence, she knows the situation is likely more COMPLICATED than he makes it seem. this entire time, gorr's plan has been detailed, precise. she would be a fool to think he might not already know where he needs to go -- at least generally. "i know you're right," rey murmurs again, though her voice is small as thor gathers her close and wraps his arms around her tight. it doesn't stop her from feeling the weight of their circumstances, or from being afraid. "i love you."

the few minutes that stretch on around them feel as if they come and go in the BLINK of an eye. it is not nearly enough time with thor -- simply being held by him, letting his presence comfort her. she can still feel his sadness, his guilt, his worry... and her heart aches with a desire to PROTECT him from tragedy -- tragedy she knows is likely to find them anyway, somehow, one way or another.

it always does. for some reason, that seems to be the force's will.

rey rubs her face into his chest before he pulls back, gathering her hands in his. "sick?" she questions, holding thor's gaze steadily. "how? i could try healing it anyway." she has more PRACTICE with injuries, certainly -- physical wounds she can see and touch, watching them knit back together beneath her hands. but that doesn't mean a transfer of life force won't heal her. surely it would be worth the chance... even if thor does believe she'll be gone soon. the graveness in how he delivers the news draws her up short. rey blanches, her eyes widening with sudden sadness and sympathy. it can't be true. after so much loss, must thor truly be destined to lose another? someone he once loved so DEARLY? all of her feels a surge of terrible pain.

"of course it's alright," rey assures him. "i'm so sorry, thor. i know this must be difficult. isn't there... anything the healers can do? she seemed so -- well, she seemed fine, during the fight. are you sure it isn't... what she would WANT to do? and that... we will be able to finish this on our own?" it isn't that she DOUBTS their ability -- together, there is very little she and thor can't accomplish. his strength provides her the ability to push herself farther, to anchor herself in his safety and know she can achieve anything with its support. rather, she knows that worrying about one another often makes it difficult to focus on fighting anyone. she fears gorr will use her to distract thor, and both he and the children will be LOST. and that cannot happen.

for a moment, the worry of his face smooths. thor shakes his head, reaches over the chair to her, trailing his fingers along her arm. “you have done what you can. overextending yourself when it may not work against the curse will help no one.” that he doesn’t want her accepting a fault she hasn’t earned while he stands before her, wrestling with guilt, is an irony not lost on him. how could he not feel guilty? the gods have failed them all. it’s what has caused all of this.

more than once while she speaks, his mouth opens to respond, but he is stalled. she keeps going, keeps questioning. as the seconds tick by, he watches as her fear only climbs and climbs. it twists at his already aching heart. “rey—“ he tries, but more words tumble out. the grip on his arm is biting. instead, once he’s released, he rounds the chair to meet her where she stands. both his hands settle on either side of her face to pull her to him. he isn’t calm, but he tries to appear as such for her sake.

gently, he angles her head back for her to look up at him. “slow down. you need to breathe.” both thumbs stroke along her cheekbones, his gaze holding hers. “nothing has happened yet. i am still standing right here with you.” in truth, he knows how precarious the fight has suddenly become. it could be any second that he is simply gone, wiped from existence. at any second he could be robbed of the future with her he longs for. it is terribly unfair, frightening. . . but that is the last thing she needs to hear right now.

“valkyrie has thunderbolt with her. we need it to leave. waiting isn’t a choice.” thor’s voice is apologetic, as are his eyes, the tilt of his head. a frown tugs at his mouth. “gorr may have yet to travel to eternity, or even find it. the center of the universe is hardly a precise location.” though he doesn’t believe that, he says it confidently. he isn’t well practiced in lying to her, but if ever there was a time for it. . . “we will return the children safely, i promise you that.”

releasing his hold on her face, his hands fall to her shoulders, then her upper arms, then her waist. he pulls her closer; few hospital staff come and go, eyeing them curiously, but he pays their attention no mind. sadness tugs at his steely determination, making its way to his face again, slumping his shoulders. his hold on her tightens. he doesn’t care who sees that, either.

“we will face gorr alone. i doubt that jane could handle another fight so soon.” after a pause, he sighs. having rey near is always a comfort. having her at all is to know he will always have a place to call home, somewhere to be safe and protected. but she can’t protect him from everything. “he didn’t hurt her. there is no injury to heal. she’s sick. she’s— she will be gone soon. you must not have seen her, when we landed.” eyes falling away, he moves again, this time to take her hands in his. if only to have something else to focus on, to keep his own hands busy. nervously, he rubs at her knuckles. “is this. . . alright? to talk about? there are things that i want to say, but i know she is— a sensitive subject.”

[spells4riddle8secrets]

Tonight's Travels

Intro

I know I will be able to reach my destination. This journey may take me months, years to achieve. I may honestly lose myself to this dream... but I know if I wake up tomorrow this path was worth it. Should I let you in on my grand Master plan? My blueprint? You may think me mad. But if I have this formula right, it may just save the world. I may just save the world... let's just focus on the task at hand shall we? I need to recharge my pow3r. One of my God given gifts is manipulating, storing, and absorbing energy. It can be from a human, it can be from a FLUORESCENT light bulb. Don't ask me why LED doesn't work.... but yes energy... I need more of it if I am to continue my "great work".... within the last 4 years I have been having a hard time controlling my energy. Also, it was also a time when I was just learning about my "God Gifts". I truly do believe every person on this earth is capable of uncovering theirs just with the right guides and a little patience. Because i have not focused my intentions on myself and my mission, I forgot and lost track of why I even came to earth in the first place..... Long story short, this is another vigilante attempt to save the world....

The mission for the next 3 months and beyond?

I have my eye on a 🔑. He is just so full of energy. Energy that is not his.... I see it in his eyes and hear it in his hollow voice everytime he makes the slightest noise. He is on to me I think, I think he knows that I know know his secrets... But do I truly know them? Do i truly know that he's has this bloodlust? I don't know what I know so I'm on a mission... I am listening to spirit and what it is telling me about this person.... dangerous... don't trust it... don't trust his words to you... DON'T TRUST HIM... so I won't... the way I see it is... I'm here to pay attention... take notes... try to fix the problem within them.... try not to lose myself in the process.... so the target, 🔑 ,is honestly really friendly. But i know this person is only engaging for profit... whether its from money or my soul, idk that's what we are going to find out...

Tonight i will try to Astral Travel into his mind... key word here is TRY. The last time I connected to someone's mind they wanted me to do it. I have felt some kind of connection between us but it passed once I posted about my signification other... they soon stopped pursuing my energy for they felt as tho that shouldn't have said connection.... but because of this happening I will continue on my working. I know that they are looking forward to contact... I just have to play my cards correctly....

Stealing energy isn't easy... and it's honestly a very dangerous thing to do. Because people are very protective over what it essentially theirs. Usually i gather my energy from the hundreds of men online. They give their cum energy willingly... it's like they can't hold onto it anymore and they just need to let it out... I enjoy doing this because I love the feeling of being filled with all off it... I mean ladies don't deny... you know exactly what I'm talking about... 👄... anywho I have decided to raise a bunch of energy in order go help me with my "Great Work ". But in addition to these willing sacrifices of cum, I have chosen a 🔑 patron to remove his sexual essence in order to will it into the "Work". He will become probably really well known for his "sacrifice". He will not be harmed in any way... although he may want to serve me for all eternity but hey.... who doesn't need more eternity long partners am I right?

Steps to mind controlling

(And stealing energy)

✨️Astral project into targets mind successfully 6 times

✨️send persuasion dream to target to lower defences and confuse.

✨️repeat until desired outcome is achieved

By this point we want them to want us uncontrollably, to the point where they either want to send a picture of them ejaculating or them trying to find you to show you in person... hopfully is not the second option and they send a video to you with their baby gravy all over... ill take my energy battery and fill it as much as I can.

✨️repeat until situation is either dangerous for you or the targets sanity...

Tonight I'll be trying to reach the 🔑 through Astral protection.... they have to say a certain word in their post on order for me to know it's working... only we will know the symbol they have to mention... let's do something simple like the word candy. If I come back and write that I think I made contact and the target mentions the word candy... we will be in business.. remember I'll have to successfully do this 6 times in order to move onto the next stage in the plan.... are you guys ready because I'm not 😆

I use an app with binaural beats to put me into a trance like state to reach my destination... I was fasting for 2 months but recently broke it to get more energy from food before I tried going for the gold... so here is my tumblr to keep you guys up to date with my magical activities 🍨🍬🍫🧁

[hagoftheholler]

[ Pick a Card ] What version of myself do I recognize? What version of myself do I not acknowledge?

Felt like doing another pick a card reading, so here we go. The questions for this are: What version of myself do I recognize? What version of myself do I not acknowledge? There will be three piles to choose from based on the images below, so please take a moment to pick out one of these pictures. Try to follow your intuition.

Disclaimer: Pick a card readings are made for general audiences and should always be taken with a grain of salt. What you end up with from this post may or may not apply to you. Use your discernment to determine if this pick a card reading has anything relevant to you.

Pile 1: Bluebell Flowers | Pile 2: Wild Flowers | Pile 3: Tulip Flowers

[ Pile 1: Bluebell Flowers ]

What version of yourself do you recognize? | Four of Cups, The Empress, Three of Swords (rv)

You recognize the version of yourself that is wounded and needs healing. You recognize that sitting with remorse isn't doing anything good for you. Something here is holding you back and you need to move on from it. It's possible that, despite being aware of this, you have been choosing to distract yourself from the problem. For this pile I feel like a maternal figure or lack of is a significant factor. Perhaps what you need is to start nurturing yourself instead of looking for others to do it for you (that being said, if there is something traumatic you are struggling with please seek help with a therapist or counselor).

What version of yourself do you not acknowledge? | Nine of Wands, Five of Pentacles (rv), Two of Wands

You don't acknowledge that you are resilient and perfectly capable of healing. Life has been hard for you, but you've made it this far. Don't be afraid to ask for help. We all need it sometimes. Take the steps necessary to overcome your past and invite newer, better things for your future. You still have a long journey ahead of you, but you've got this.

[ Pile 2: Wild Flowers ]

What version of yourself do you recognize? | Strength, Eight of Cups (rv), The Tower (rv)

You recognize the version of yourself that focuses on your insecurities. You have difficulty focusing on the more positive things about yourself and tend to avoid doing anything that might disrupt what peace you have. As a result, you only sit with the things that bring you down. For some of you, this version of yourself was determined by your peers. Although you may think that people's cruelty made you tougher, it only made you defensive and maybe a little aggressive. You know that people tend to project onto you, so why do you allow them to get to you? You have a lot of good in you. Stop allowing others to dim your light.

What version of yourself do you not acknowledge? | Seven of Wands, Ten of Pentacles, Ace of Wands

You don't acknowledge your own self-worth. There is much for you to be proud of, so own it. You are creative. You are efficient. You have everything you need to prove people wrong. Instead of reacting out of anger or paranoia, choose to let your actions speak for themselves. It's time for you to stop letting others determine who you are. Stay grounded and focus on yourself.

[ Pile 3: Tulip Flowers ]

What version of yourself do you recognize? | Queen of Cups, Two of Cups (rv), The Lovers

You recognize the version of yourself that has much love to give, yet you can't seem to make a connection. You are compassionate and emotionally intelligent, which are both amazing traits to possess, but nobody can seem to vibe with you. Instead of focusing on the fact that you can't seem to find somebody that you vibe with (whether it be platonic or romantic), focus more on yourself first. You can't force a connection to happen, and sometimes you need to stop looking in order to find somebody that you do connect with.

What version of yourself do you not acknowledge? | Two of Swords (rv), Three of Cups, Wheel of Fortune

You don't acknowledge that you stress yourself out too much, especially regarding your friends and other loved ones. You may be surrounded by people who gossip and can't seem to talk about anything that isn't related to drama. Distance yourself from those individuals. Chances are you have been a little too focused on pleasing them over yourself. Take some time alone to practice some self-care and do things that make you happy.

[imagine--if]

Hello! Dano! Riddler x reader where she is trying to learn riddles to try to impress him but instead ends up getting frustrated and he helps her with them!😍

A/N: I’m not gonna say how much time I spent looking online for good riddles 😂 worth it though, enjoy 💚

Pairing: Dano!Riddler x reader (The Batman 2022)

Warnings: FlUfF

Words: 597

"A woman shoots her husband, then holds him underwater for five minutes. Next, she hangs him. Right after, they enjoy a lovely dinner. Explain... What the hell?"

You sigh impatiently as you glare at your phone screen, biting your lip in thought. Edward makes it look so easy; then again, he is the Riddler, so puzzles like these come naturally to him.

It's not coming so naturally to you.

"She shoots her husband," you repeat slowly under your breath, brows furrowing in concentration, "underwater, hangs him... she... what?!"

As if on cue, Edward comes into the room with two cups of tea, setting them down on a nearby table with a sweet smile.

"I made us tea," he says, sitting beside you on the sofa and glancing at your phone. "What are you doing, angel?"

You're quick to switch the screen off, looking up as innocently as you can at him.

"Nothing."

Eddie raises a brow in with an amused, unconvinced look.

"Nothing?"

You nod, your smile growing. "Yep."

His eyes shift to look at your phone, then back up at you.

"Are you... hiding something?" He asks teasingly, leaning in closer to you as he brushes a lock of hair away from your face, his fingers grazing your cheek at the action. "Are you going to make me guess?"

You scoff lightly at the irony. "Yeah, I'm all out of guesses."

A confused frown makes its way onto Edward's face, and he sits up attentively.

"What do you mean, darling?"

You hesitate before sighing impatiently, turning your phone back on. "I was trying to learn riddles-"

Edward immediately gasps happily, eyes lighting up at the topic. "You are?!"

"The emphasis is on 'tried,'" you repeat, shaking your head in annoyance. "I'm just not as good at this stuff as you are, Ed, which is really annoying, because I want to have that in common with you. I'm just dumb, I guess."

He gasps again, this time out of shock at the last statement.

"Don't ever say that about yourself," Edward scolds you as he pokes your sides playfully, making you laugh. "You aren't dumb. You're my clever girl, aren't you? It takes a while to understand these things, angel. Here," he continues, moving over and pulling you up onto his lap, "let me help. What are you struggling with?"

You read out the riddle before looking behind your shoulder at him expectantly, and sure enough, a knowing smirk graces his lips.

"Ah, I see. This is aiming to throw you off track with all the information. But you need to focus on the first verb, 'shoots.' What else can you shoot with besides a gun, baby?"

You think quietly to yourself for a long moment, though it isn't exactly easy to focus while Eddie's resting his head in the crook of your neck, rocking you gently in his hold. Then it comes to you, and your eyes widen in realisation.

"Like, oh- a camera?"

Edward grins, giggling gleefully. "Exactly! She took a picture of him, developed it in her darkroom, and 'hangs' it up. You see?"

You nod with a smile. "Yeah, I see. Thanks."

"You practically got that one by yourself," he praises you, pressing a kiss on your neck and squeezing you tighter. "All you need is a little prompting. I'm so proud of you, always."

Your smile widens as you lean back in his embrace. "That's all I want."

Edward smiles back, taking ahold of one of your hands and bringing it to his lips, kissing it lovingly. "Then that's all you'll get."

Taglist:

@deadlights-darling @tianotfound @mortem-muse @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell @bloodypantomime

[bravevolunteer]

LUCKILY, THE MOMENTS SPENT in a brief back-and-forth over Michael's genius paper straw retaliation give enough time for the embarrassed flush to his face to go down, though Michael is left hoping it was barely visible enough for Jeremy to notice in the first place— he doesn't think Jeremy would make a big deal out of it ( if he weren't trying so desperately to hide it, that is... ), but... he doesn't know how Jeremy would react. And Michael has never exactly been the best at being open about what's going on in his head.

He can't help the smile that pulls at the corners of his lips as the wrapper hits Jeremy's glasses: good enough distraction either way, and watching him flick it off is amusing all the same. It's only when the paper comes flying back in his direction that he reminds himself to keep looking at the damn menu. Jeremy has a point: despite what Michael tried to call him out for, HE'S the one who barely picked it up for now on account of the... staring.

"I'm looking now, asshole-" Despite his choice of words, Michael laughs as he keeps his gaze on the options ( not really processing any of them, it's growing more likely that he'll just blurt out the first thing he sees when the waiter comes by ). He absentmindedly grabs the balled-up straw as he does so, unraveling it and fidgeting with the thin paper, holding onto his ammunition.

His attention is grabbed from the food again with Jeremy's answer, glancing up to listen to him talk about his family. He knew Jeremy had a lot of relatives back home, but they didn't exactly talk about it much. Michael does smile again, at the sweeping gesture and the thought of Jeremy wrangling a hoard of rowdy little kids... Michael isn't exactly familiar with big family gatherings. "Right... yeah— it, uh, sounds nice, for what it's worth. I get why you miss it. I've been here a few times— it's been around forever. We didn't really go out to eat a lot, though, it was always..." At Fredbear's, and then Evan was gone, and... Michael waves it off. "My old man had us eat at his restaurant most of the time."

Michael clears his throat, glancing back down at the menu ( realizing he had torn the straw paper ), before Jeremy calls him out again. He looks up, annoyed ( though not seriously, he's trying very hard not to smile again actually ), shifting slightly in his seat as the explanation Jeremy is grilling him about refuses to leave his head. "I was just zoning out, it's not THAT weird, you know. I don't think what's going on in my head is as interesting as you think it is." His heartbeat picks up speed, keenly aware of Jeremy's focus on him, and Michael is a fucking goner. "—And if it WAS.... sorry, classified information."

Jeremy had truly meant no harm by the question — was more or less just poking fun at the other boy. He couldn't help it, okay? The reaction he got in return was more than worth it, anyway, flustered expression earning a poorly stifled huff of laughter out of him. If he hadn't been actively trying to take a sip out of his water, he certainly wouldn't have been able to stop himself.

"Clearly," he asserted, smile only growing as Michael resorted to using his straw wrapper as a distraction. It didn't get much of a reaction out of him, other than a half-assed swipe to get it off of himself when it landed — the benefits of wearing glasses were few, but not having to worry about being hit in the eye with projectiles such as that one was definitely one of them. "Relax, man. Was just wondering what was up."

Hands working to ball up the straw wrapper as he spoke, he flicked it back in Michael's direction at the retort. "I already did. Unlike some people, I already looked at the menu." He didn't even bother to respond to being called a dumbass — he already knew he was one. That was, like, the number one Jeremy Fact that everyone learned the moment they met him. "Goofball," he muttered under his breath, more than a little fond, very clearly entertained by Michael's whole reaction to the situation.

The question made him pause for a moment, considering. "No, I haven't. I don't really... Go out much, y'know? Not since I moved here. Just kinda feels weird going out to eat somewhere all on my own. Used to be a whole family affair, back home, comin' to a place like this. We'd fill up at least two of those booths–" a sweeping hand gesture made towards the booths tucked up against the wall– "and I'd always get stuck with the little'uns so I could keep 'em in line while the adults relaxed. Always thought it sucked at the time, but..." Gaze lowered to the tabletop, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. "I miss 'em. Miss the whole lot of 'em, 'f I'm bein' honest."

Blinking once, twice, giving himself a chance to get back to the present, he looked back up at Michael. "Enough about me– I'm still not dropping the whole staring thing. Seriously, man, you were more than a little spaced out there. What's goin' on in that head o' yours?" Forearms rested on the table, he leaned forward, focus solely on Michael — as it tended to be, if he was being honest with himself. "C'mon. It's gotta be somethin' interesting if it's got you that distracted."

[yeraskier]

From the recent prompt list, help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second. With either geraskier or yenskier please?

There’s a reason Geralt’s always hated going out. Weird shit always happens to him when he goes out.

Like right now, the pretty and bright-eyed man he’d been watching all night is currently rambling dramatically right to his face. But is he offering to take Geralt home like he'd been hoping the stranger would when he walked over? No. Because that’s simply not how Geralt’s life works. Instead…

“…and the sex was great, you know? But that man is such a prick. I’ve never met anyone more self-obsessed, okay? And he’s been looking in my direction all night like he does every other time we're here at the same time, and he’s so persistent. So, I figure if I have a gorgeous, and frankly huge, fellow like you by my side, he’s bound to leave me alone.”

Geralt blinks. Pretty Eyes is wearing his most charming smile. It’s quite convincing.

“So, will you do it? Will you pretend to be my date for an hour or so? Or just until he leaves? I’ll buy you endless amounts of beer.”

Well, it’s not quite how Geralt had pictured his evening going.

“I’ll do it.” It’s probably the worst idea he’s had in a very long time, but it’s worth it for the way Pretty Eyes ends up beaming.

And so, they spend the rest of the night in each other's company. He learns a few things about his date in the following forty-five minutes.

1) Pretty Eyes' actual name is Jaskier.

2) Jaskier is a musician with 107, 369 monthly Spotify listeners.

3) Jaskier likes to talk… a lot.

And Geralt usually hates that in a person. He’d probably have walked away from Jaskier by now. He probably should. He won't.

He likes the sound of Jaskier’s voice and the way he uses his hands to illustrate what he’s saying and the way his eyes light up when he speaks about his music and the way his laugh goes an octave higher whenever Geralt smiles at him.

He likes all these little things. He adores them.

And Geralt could have happily spent the rest of the night listening to Jaskier go on and on about literally anything he could think of, but the man's words die out midsentence as his eyes focus in on someone behind Geralt.

“Gods,” Jaskier groans, “there’s the guy I was telling you about.”

Geralt doesn’t need any further instruction, he moves closer to Jaskier and fits an arm around the man’s waist like it belongs there. Jaskier practically melts under his touch, body sagging so he’s leaning into Geralt.

He could’ve thought more about that if the man they were putting on this show for wasn’t now standing before them.

“Jaskier.”

“Valdo,” Jaskier greets with a tight smile.

Valdo? Who the fuck names their child Valdo? Geralt doesn’t even try to hold back his snort.

Valdo glares at him but Jaskier’s smile loosens up. It’s worth it.

“Anyway, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you tonight,” Valdo says.

Jaskier hums. “Well, that’s funny since I’m here every Thursday night. And you waved at me earlier.”

Valdo laughs and the noise makes Geralt grit his teeth. He's known the man for all of two minutes and already, he's one of Geralt's least favorite people.

"Right. Well, I suppose it's lucky that we're both here, then. What do you say I buy you a drink," the swine proposes as if Geralt isn't standing right there.

He pulls Jaskier closer so they're practically plastered together and aims a smug grin in Valdo's direction. "He's occupied, as you can clearly see."

Valdo looks like his head might explode. Good.

Still, the arse has the gall to look back at Jaskier and say, "you sure you wouldn't want to spend the night with me instead?" An endearing smile makes its way onto his face, and Geralt might have actually found this man attractive if he wasn't such an arrogant prick. And if his name wasn't so fucking stupid.

Geralt worries, just for a second, that Jaskier may decide to go with Valdo after all, but the musician rests a hand over the one Geralt has on his hip and squeezes. "I think I'm just fine where I am, thank you."

Valdo stares at them and goes as far as to eye Geralt like he's sizing him up. Geralt almost wishes he would actually try something.

He doesn't. Instead, he leaves with a scoff, turning on his heels to walk towards a woman on the other side of the bar.

They remain close until Valdo seems thoroughly distracted, but then Geralt lets go and Jaskier clears his throat. An awkward silence follows.

Geralt gets it, he’s served his purpose. He should just make a break for it now, leave before Jaskier asks him to go.

He sets his glass down. Jaskier’s watching him, he can feel it. The man is tracking his every movement which is making every movement very difficult to make.

Get it together. He’s just a pretty guy at a bar, and sure, he’s made you smile more tonight than you have in months. It doesn’t matter. Get it the fuck together.

Geralt clears his throat and detaches from the bar, barely giving Jaskier a final glance as he nods in his general direction— it might hurt less if he can’t see him, maybe— before walking off.

Or at least he tries to.

But he can’t exactly do that when there’s a hand wrapped around his wrist, holding him in place.

Geralt turns back to face the musician with curious eyes.

“Listen, I know tonight may not have been the most ideal night,” Jaskier begins, “but I’ve been having a great time, and I think you have been too. And if I’m wrong, well, this will be truly embarrassing but it’ll be fine because at least I worked up the courage to do this. I just… I just want you to stay with me, just for the night, just a while longer. Or however long you feel like staying.”

Jaskier shrugs at the end of it like he didn’t basically just imply he wants to spend more than tonight with Geralt. Like that isn’t kind of a big deal considering the fact that they just met.

God, he’s insane. Geralt likes that.

“Can I kiss you?” It comes out unexpectedly but Geralt doesn't retract his words. He wants this. He hasn't wanted someone this much in a very long time.

Jaskier smiles. “Yes.”

Geralt closes the distance between them.

[no-gorms]

Prequel timestamp for Stuck in a… from Steve’s POV

Steve/Tony pre-relationship, a/b/o universe, 700+ words

There are those who might define this as torture, but in Steve’s opinion there's nothing inherently masochistic about his commitment to regular sparring with Tony. Steve isn't punishing himself, or pushing boundaries, or trying to prove a point. Steve is merely attempting to be a good teammate, and perhaps a good friend.

"You need a handicap," Tony says.

He's in a dark long-sleeved sweatshirt, which is his usual choice of attire when exercising with the other Avengers. In the early days Steve thought Tony was self-conscious - an omega exercising with alphas could be its own kind of trouble - but that’s turned out to be genuinely what Tony’s comfortable in, as though being swaddled in synthetics allows him to focus.

Not that any potential outsider watching would think that Tony's focusing at all. His body language is insouciant and his fists are down, and he’s barely making an attempt to mirror Steve's slow circling him on the exercise mat. That said Tony's eyes are alert and sharp, though that's hard to see from the way he moves his head.

"Weights on your legs, or something," Tony adds. He lunges forward, fist out, but gets blocked by Steve's elbow.

"What about the advantages, though?" Steve side-steps another sudden right hook, and blocks a kick sent low to his shins. 

"What advantages?" Tony asks.

"You don't have to hold back. I can take the full force of anything you throw at me, so you don't have to be careful."

Tony scoffs. "You think I bother being careful? With you?"

"Well.” Steve shrugs. “I do.”

Tony's eyes flash with irritation, a signal announcing the next handful of hits that come quick and sharp. Steve moves with each blow - block, block, a detouring push of Tony's right arm out of the way - but is startled by a sharp punch to his kidneys.

Steve doubles over a little, his surprise stronger than the sting. He’s about to share his feedback about the blow when Tony grabs him, both his hands in a twisted grip underneath Steve's left arm as he throws their combined center of gravity in a dizzying turn sideways.

Steve lands with a grunt, while a rattling ache shoots up his shoulder to his back. Tony’s off him in a quick bounce, and Steve he rolls flat onto his back to look up at him.

There’s no laugh, no mocking grin, no joke at Steve’s expense. Tony’s his triumph is quiet, in his simple standing over him, with a slight pull at one corner of his mouth.

It is a sight worth seeing on multiple levels.

On the surface level, the most important level, it is evidence on the steady journey of getting Tony to trust him. Tony needs to believe he can count on Steve, and relax around him. At the very least, he doesn’t have to be afraid of Steve, the way Tony was once or twice in the early days but will never admit to; the memory of which Steve keeps close to remind himself to always do better and not let his guard down for Tony’s sake.

On another level, it is a gift to just be here. That Steve can watch Tony tilts his head to the side in a pleased, languid movement that draws the eye down the line from his mouth, to chin, to the trickling sweat in his clavicle. It shouldn't be captivating. Post-exercise sweatiness shouldn't flatter anyone’s appearance, but Tony Stark with a splotchy red face makes Steve's hands itch, with the urge to put his thumb into Tony’s sweat-shiny clavicle and stay there.

Steve takes a quick breath and sits up. “You learn that from Nat?”

“Oh,” Tony drawls, “you gonna give her the credit?”

“That was good, Tony.” Steve carefully stands up and brushes his knees. “That was quick, precise and decisive, and you got me by surprise. I’ll have to watch out for that.”

Tony sighs, though he’s pleased at the comment. “You and your stupid memory.”

“You can beat that, too.” Steve resumes he ready stance and ignores the phantom press of Tony’s hands at his shoulder, and Tony’s body against his. He’s well-practiced at that by now. “Let’s go.”