#this coloring looks like shit but *shrug emoji*

[satorusugurugurl]

Feverish

Summary: When preparing for your annual Halloween party, you realize you forgot to take your heat suppressants. Thank god your Alpha boyfriends are always there for you!

Characters Alpha!Gojo Satoru x Omega!AFAB!Reader x Alpha!Geto Suguru

Word Count: 1.9K

Warning: ABO!AU, alpha/omegas, heat, sex unprotected sex, DP in the puss, praise, language, cream pies, Double knots 😏

A/N: Kinktoner Day 28: Omegaverse! This is short because holy shit ive been super busy!

It was hot, which was strange since the autumn air was crisp, causing steam to rise with every breath you took. You grimaced, readjusting the shopping bags in your hands as you hurried down the sidewalk. The last thing you needed was to be getting sick; there was far too much to do still. Seeing as your Halloween party was in the next three hours.

You would just pop some ibuprofen and start working on snacks and decorating. You pushed open the door to your apartment, huffing out a sigh as the smell of mint and clean linen permeated through the small space. The scents of your two best friends and boyfriend drowned out the smell of the autumn candles you had lit, making you feel even hotter.

“I’m back,” you announced in a slightly breathless voice as you hurried into the kitchen, placing the bags on the counter.

“Hey!” Satoru said as he eyed a small carving pumpkin. “Welcome back!” He closed one perfect cerulean eye before humming in thought. “Hey, how does this look?” He turned the pumpkin towards you, a proud smile on his face.

Satoru and Suguru had been tasked with setting up the snacks you had prepared. That included pulling out the chips, candy, and cookies you had made. Satoru had carved a face similar to the vomiting emoji of the small pumpkin and conveniently placed the guacamole in front of its mouth. You smiled, feeling sweat beading on your forehead as you smiled, fanning yourself as you shrugged out of your sweater.

“Looks good, Toru.” You could feel the heat in your cheeks, but you tried to ignore it, washing your hands in the sink. “What’s Suguru up to?”

Earthy music wafts through the kitchen, the smell only making you slightly dizzy. “I just finished setting up the projector; we’re all set.”

“Mmm, thanks, you two.” You whispered, leaning slightly over the sink. “I appreciate it.”

Your stuttering had both men straightening as they shared a look before focusing back on you.

“You good?” Satoru asked, concern lacing his voice.

“Y-Yeah, I’m just feeling a little hot.”

A cool palm pressed against your hand, and you shuddered at the feeling of skin on you. “You feel hot like you have a fever.” Violet and cerulean eyes took you in as you learned against them, taking a deep breath to ease your nerves.

“I’m okay.”

But the smell of you, sweet and tantalizing, overtook both men. They sniffed the air, deep growls vibrating in their chests as they pulled away to eye you. They saw it when they really took the chance to look you up and down. Your cheeks darkened in color, and your chest rose and fell with quick breaths.

“Our poor omega~.” Satoru calmly began, his hands rubbing at your shoulders.

“Someone forgot to take her heat suppressant.” Suguru finished, pressing his lips against your temple, his hands groping your ass.

They were right; you forgot to take your medication this morning. You had been in such a hurry. It was the furthest thing from your mind. There was no going back, though; you had forgotten to take it, and now you would have to live with the consequences of your actions, which sucked royally.

Your boyfriend began moving without being told to. Satoru pulled his phone out and started dialing numbers on the screen. Suguru swooped you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom. Even through the pounding of your heart in your ears, you could hear Satoru apologizing to your friends, telling them that your party would have to be rescheduled. You felt a little bad about it, but the second Suguru tossed a couple of their hoodies at you, you began purring instantly.

“Sweet Princess,” Suguru whispered, watching as you cuddled both their hoodies close to you before it began to construct your nest. “Do you want us to give you some time to yourself?”

“No~ need you, Alpha, I need you both.”

Suguru reached out, pulling your scent patch away from your glands. The sweet, almost sugary he sent flooded the bedroom, overpowering their scents. You purred, watching as Suguru’s jaw clenched as he tried desperately to hold himself back, only for Satoru to come in, tossing the phone onto the bed, completely forgotten. You smelt utterly delectable, and neither wanted to waste any time.

“Mhmm~ you look so sexy.”

“God I want to taste you.”

The Both joined you on the bed, kissing you at the same time their mouse on yours as their hands trained and groped your body which held molten heat making you cry out with every single gentle graze. You purred kissing them both at the same time before they shared the kiss together, making you whimper softly as their hands continued working at you taking off your clothes holding you tight.

And taste you they did. They kissed every inch of your body, making you arch off the bed in your makeshift nest. They took turns licking your tripping pussy, tongues, ding out flicking over the sensitive buds before they alternated between the two of them. Suguru was much more gentle, drawing out the sweetest of cries from you. While Satoru was addicted to taste his tongue swirling over you, laughing at your inner walls until you were shaking withering mess. Then to make matters even better they would kiss each other all for your entertainment and their enjoyment.

But they didn’t stop there.

No kisses moved all over your body up the dips of your hips over your tummy that they absolutely adored before they both took one of your breasts and hand, squeezing massaging it before taking your nipple into their mouths. They grazed over the sensitive stiff peak with their tongues, and their sharp elongated canines scraped over it. The Sensation had you arching your back off, the mattress, your hands gripping the shirts that Suguru had tossed to you.

God You were so fucking lucky. Not only were you blessed with two of the strongest alphas you had ever known, but also spoiled rotten. They Saw you as an equal, and didn’t use you just for their pleasure. They got off on you getting off. So even though you had forgotten to take your heat suppressant this morning, they were going to make the most of this very rare opportunity.

“It’s my turn to grind, Satoru, you can go first.”

Your head was hot as you watched your boyfriends intently. “You sure?” Satoru asked as they both got into position laying you on the side so Suguru could lay down behind you spooning you, while Satoru took the front.

“Yes.”

You sighed softly as you looked between the two of them as Satoru slowly began sliding inside of your dripping cunt. Hearing them share you, making your amazing relationship work made you so wet. "Holy fuck~ why the fuck are you both so hot." You questioned before you wrapped your arms around Satoru's neck. "You noth feel so good~ so warm and thick."

Satoru groaned softly, gripping you tight to his body before kissing you deeply. While Suguru was suddenly pressed behind you, his thick cock teasing your entrance before continuing to rub against your ass.

"You're so pretty, Princess, you're so fucking hot."

You shivered under all of the kisses the duo plated on you. Feel Satoru pushing further inside your pussy. While Suguru rubbed up against you. Longing to be inside your pussy, too, god, it sent you into a frenzy of whimpers as you tried grinding back against Suguru in an almost encouraging way. Deciding you didn't just want one of them inside of you.

You wanted both.

"M-Nnngh~" you finally pulled away from Satoru, panting for air. "Fuck me too, Sugu~ please!!" Satoru showered, pausing his hips for a second so you could talk to Suguru over your bite-ridden skin.

"You want me to fuck you too?" He hummed against your sensitive skin. “Where?”

You reached around, pressing the head of hiscock right against Satoru’s slicked-up cock. "Here." Both your boyfriends shuddered as Suguru groaned deep in your ear. He didn't question what you wanted, he just slowly slid into your pussy. It was so unbelievably tight, but you were so wet, it made it easier for him to rub his cock up and down over Satoru's with a hiss.

“Oh my fuck!” Satoru barked out, his cock rubbing against Suguru inside the amazing woman between them. "Sh-Shit—!! S-Suguru-Sweetheart!” Your eyes were wide as the two men filled your cunt up with their cocks. It felt so good to have both of them inside of your cunt. The sensation was so good it left you whining, looking at Satoru while your hand reached around and gripped the back of Suguru's head. "Fuck me, Alphas! Please fuck me like you mean it, please."

They both hurriedly agreed before thrusting into you, both of them moaning around you, filling your room with sounds of sex. After hours of countless orgasms and sex, the room now reeked of sex, which was making your heat all that more enjoyable. Their scents the pleasure; all of it had you screaming out in pleasure as they both fucked you. You had lost count of how many times you had cummed. Your eyes flickered between blue and lilac. It wasn't until the tenth orgasm crept up on you that you got

"Alphas~ I-I want you to cum inside me." your breasts pressed against Satoru's chest as you leaned your head back on Suguru, why attempting to close your legs. They were both panting against your skin, their cocks throbbing from overuse but ready to burst.

"Omega, yes fuck--" Satoru growled before biting down on your neck, piercing your scent glands, Just as Suguru followed Satoru’s lead biting down on your other scent gland with a predatory growl

“Sweet Omega, cum with us~!” Suguru gripped your hips, his hips speeding back up.

Their sweet words, desperation, and the need to feel your come undone had you cunning hard. "C-Cumming!" You shouted, your eyes rolled back into your skull as you squirted and convulsed around the two of them.

"Nnngh-fuck!"

“Ooh fuck!! Good girl!!

Satoru and Suguru both barked out grunts of pleasure. Before, they were biting purr scent, glad and complex as Suguru had. Both of them force their cum and their knots into you while kissing and sucking on your neck.

"F-Fuck-Never cum that hard-" Suguru whispered in your ear, his hands moving down to massage your surely aching thighs.

“Me neither~” Satoru hummed, resting his head against the pillow.

You didn't respond; you were too busy shaking. “Princess? You okay?” Suguru questioned with a slight quirk of his brow. “Or did we give you a real treat?” They both listened closely as you whispered something.

“What was that, Sweetheart?”

“Again.”

Your single word had both your boyfriends stiffening in shock. They shared a look before Satoru scoffed and laughed softly. Suguru joined him, nuzzling your neck.

“That was cute—”

“Yeah, you had us for—nngh!” both men hissed as you rolled your hips.

“Again.” You repeated in a more severe and stern voice.

They laughed and gulped down their nervous laugh. “Yes, Omega~,” They said, voices shaky as they continued to give you what you wanted, and when you finally were satisfied, they both lay there next to you, panting heavily. A sight that would make anyone wonder who got the trick and who got the treat!

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918

Kinktober Tag List:

@candy-s72

[leewritestoomuch]

Hello! Small request here~ can you possibly do a Dr,stone headcanon where reader has severely bad memory? They’re memory is so bad to the point they would start to call everyone by fruits, vegetables, plants. You name it. Just so they could remember their faces properly? This has been in my mind for so long..but of course no rush and always take care of urself! <3

Idk if you take emoji anons, but can I be 🌒 or 🪻anon? You can choose which one if both are free!

Hi🪻anon (I picked this one cuz I like flowers and it’s different from the emojis I already have anons for, hope that’s okay) (oh and this request is about plants so it fits!)

I decided to do Senku, Gen, Tsukasa, and Hyoga. (I’m finally writing for Tsukasa, THE WORLD REJOICES)

Senku Ishigami

You called him a Leak.

He’s confused, but then looks in the mirror and… holy shit you’re right.

He’s offended, but like brushes it off.

“Focus” he says, turning you back to your work.

He thinks it’s strange thought when you don’t call him by his name even to others.

Eventually, he realizes you must not remember his name.

He couldn’t care less tbh. Maybe you are bad with names? Thats common enough he really doesn’t dig.

Gen Asagiri

You called him “nightshade”

It’s his favorite flower so he’s not fazed.

Oh, not the mention it means “liar.” And he’s the world’s best.

Eventually, while watching you, he realizes you don’t call him anything but it, so he subtly tests you.

He works to push you towards saying his name, and you really just don’t seem receptive.

Eventually, he’d subtly pry your reasoning out of you when he notices you call everybody plants and vegetables.

He finds out that the amount of different plants in the nightshade family reminds you of his two faced nature and helps you remember him.

He finds it interesting.

Tsukasa Shishio

He was confused when you called him “Rosanne”

Did you think he was a woman…?

From Gen, he finds out that you might be referring to a Rosanne Brown Lisianthus since you call everybody by plant names.

Gen says he doesn’t know the reason and shrugs, shaking his head as he walks away.

You later tell him it looks like a rose and it’s got a beautiful brown color sometimes.

He gets it now… his hair color!

Takes it as a compliment because the flower sounds pretty the way you describe it.

Hyoga Akatsuki

You called him “cauliflower”

He’s confused?

He’s not… a vegetable?

Are you calling him as weak as a mere vegetable? He’s not, so???

Genuinely, he’s confused.

Takes it the wrong way.

Gives you an eye smile and nods, but then straight up walks away from you.

He over hears somebody talking about your odd nicknames for every one and it clicks that you must be remembering him that way. Cauliflower is white�� so is his hair. Okay…

[kairiscorner]

reader creating silly miguel emojis and sending them tk the spider society gc for everyone to use bc shes a fun gal ;p (and she likes annoying him too)

fr. (did i legit make a whole ass dc server for this? yes.) sorry i didn't change my display name to y/n, i got lazy 😭😭😭 also written ver with additional scenes under the cut !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

shitting on miggy cutely. 🫶— miguel o'hara x reader

✧ written version !! ✧

after lyla had signed miguel up for a discord account, much to his frustration, you immediately got a hold of his username (which was really generic, he named himself: 'miguelohara' at first, but lyla changed it up to: 'migolohellnawh') and added him to the spider society's discord server. you made a channel that was dedicated to showing miguel all the stickers and emojis you and the society had made that was just full of memes of miguel. thanks to earth-928's social media, you were all fed with silly stickers and emojis of him for days; you all had a spam channel where hobie and pav would have contests to see whose thumbs could spam more miguel shitpost memes, but that would be a story for another day.

as miguel got notified that he was added to a server, the first thing that caught his eye was the vulgarly named channel of the server: "shitting on miggy". he brought his eyebrows together and tapped on the bold text of the channel's name. he asked what that channel was for, pointing out the name in a disappointed manner as he typed. lyla giggled under her breath as she watched miguel try to act intimidating and angry over text, but his scrunched up face crinkled even more as he saw that the first thing you sent him was a sticker of his stern, stoic face that had the words: "this ugly son of a bitch is fucking super hot chicks and basically you are fucking stupid. how? ...just watch the free video."

miguel had clicked the sticker, and he saw the file name: "singlehotmominyourarea". he huffed as he texted you, asking you what that was that you sent, because he thought it was an actual link to something. he took his reading glasses and, when he could make out what it said, he got angrier than he already was earlier. he told you what you sent was not at all funny, and when you replied that—no, it certainly wasn't... it was very hysterical, though—you sent him a very pink and cutesy sticker of him with cat ears. miguel groaned as lyla took a hundred screenshots remotely from his phone. "where are you even getting these?" he asked you as you kept sending him more shitpost stickers.

"but i don't even like horses." miguel muttered as he saw the "save a horse, ride a cowboy" sticker you sent. "yeah, you're scared of them." lyla reminded him as he rolled his eyes. "no need to remind me." he said as he typed out that he 'hated' (didn't fear, there's a difference, and that is that miguel is fucking lying, he is scared of horses) horses. but of course, you knew his secret, and miguel pounded his fist against the arm of his computer chair. "are you seriously telling them on your end?" he asked lyla as she stuck her tongue out and shrugged, looking all smug as miguel grumbled and told you that he didn't ask for your correction, only for you to send an emoji of your favorite girl dinner: his five course meal ass on display.

"yeah, you need ass correction 'bee cee' this bakery is packed; what...?" he read aloud as lyla groaned. "get with the times, old man." "we don't say stuff like that in 2099 anymore, don't tell me to get with the times." he told his AI assistant as he looked through the emoji catalogue you guys had, and among them all, a colorful one stood out to him and he sent it—hoping you could tell him what was on the emoji, but knowing you, you'd of course mess with him again. you told him the emoji, which was promptly named: "doublecheekedup", meant the very sticker you sent him in response. it was similar to the cat-eared one, but it read: "i <3 my girlfriend", with miguel's angry face in the heart.

miguel looked at it all confused and pulled his reading glasses away from his face and back on to see if he was reading this right. he asked you if he was supposed to be flattered about your sticker, with him immediately following up with his honest opinion; that it was irritating instead of flattering to him. you told him the sticker was more 'sexy' than it was irritating or flattering, and you soon sent him another sticker, where he was diving face first with his legs spread and bottom out. miguel looked at it all baffled and flustered, where were you getting these photos...?

you asked him who he was spreading for, asking if it was you, while sending him an emoji with his back turned to the camera and his ginormous bottom in full view. miguel couldn't make out the text in the emoji and told you the text was too minute for him to read it. he also cleared up that he wasn't intentionally spreading his cheeks for anyone, he had just 'stumbled'. "sure ya did." lyla said as she appeared over miguel's shoulder with a smug grin on her face. "i really didn't, though." miguel said as lyla nodded slowly, her smug grin not leaving her face as miguel saw your next message. "because you wanted to spread your asscheeks for me, i didn't spread for anybody!" he screamed aloud in the confines of his office, pounding his fist on the arm of his computer chair as you sent the girl dinner emoji that was the very profile picture of the spider society's discord server.

miguel was heated in the face and heaving... oh, was there some unspoken feelings he was hiding about your little provocative words? maybe... he might sound like he wants out of the server immediately, but deep in his heart, he'd stay; even if you'd annoy the shit out of him with those damned emojis and stickers. they were irritating, yes, and maybe just the tiniest bit flattering in a twisted way for him. "wow, you're a masochist." lyla pointed out as miguel mumbled for her to shut up, but she was right as always.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @ophanimgold @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hiii

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮

Hi! THANK YOU for the TWATYTK emojis. I need to finish this damn chapter.

36 for 🪞:

---

There’s a pause on the other end. Buck gets ready to argue more. To be justifiably, in his opinion, mad. 

He doesn’t need to. 

“Okay,” Eddie says. 

Buck blinks, surprised. “O-okay?”

“I can be there in fifteen to twenty. That alright?” 

Buck exhales, relieved. 

“That’s perfect, Eddie. Thank you so much.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see you soon.”

Buck’s heart is pounding when they end the call. He doesn’t know why. 

▪️▪️▪️

Eddie shows up right when he says he will. He has a sheepish, tired sort of look on his face when Buck answers the door.

“You have a key,” Buck reminds him. He’d given it to him when he moved in. 

“Yeah, but…” Eddie trails off. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Buck says. “I’m just really glad you could come today.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, of course.”

Buck leads Eddie inside to where Dove is sitting at the kitchen table, coloring. 

“Dove,” he says. “This is my best friend Eddie. He’s going to hang out with you, okay?”

Dove drops her crayon and looks up at Eddie. 

“Hi,” she says. 

“Hi, Dove,” Eddie says. He offers a tight smile. 

---

36 for ⚡️:

---

He had planned on sitting Bobby down at the table with a coffee to start his talk. But here they are, in the yard, discussing the best places for optimal light and plant growth, and Buck just sort of blurts it out.

“Eddie and I are going to have another kid,” he says, while Bobby is examining the leaves of the bell pepper plant. 

Bobby freezes for a minute, thrown by Buck’s sudden topic change. Then, he straightens up and looks at Buck. 

“Well, that’s fantastic,” Bobby says. “When?”

“Uh, well,” Buck shrugs. “It’s a whole process. So, we aren’t sure. Maybe in the next two or three years?”

“Oh,” Bobby says. Yeah, not much of an announcement. “Hey, that’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” Buck says. 

“You’re already great fathers to Christopher, so you don’t need me to tell you that this kid will be very lucky,” Bobby continues. 

“Thanks,” Buck says again. “Uh, really. That does mean a-a lot.”

Bobby smiles.

“There is a reason I’m bringing it up way too early, though,” Buck says. 

Bobby’s smile fades. “Oh?”

“It’s a little awkward,” Buck admits. 

“Awkward,” Bobby repeats. “You’re not leaving are you?”

“Leaving?” Buck gapes. “Why would I be leaving?”

“I don’t know,” Bobby replies, a little edge in his voice. “Kids are expensive. Maybe you… You have to take a higher paying position or… I don’t know.”

“You really think I’d willingly leave the 118?” Buck asks. 

---

36 for 🦮:

---

“I promise,” Maddie assures him. 

And he supposes he’ll just have to take her word for it.

🦮🦮🦮

“You don’t ever really talk about your parents,” Eddie says later that evening. 

They’re getting ready for bed. Buck spilled the news over dinner. But Eddie has clearly been waiting to get him alone to talk about this. 

“Well,” Buck says, pulling a pajama shirt over his head. “There’s not a lot to talk about, is there?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Eddie replies, sitting on the edge of bed, petting Cranberry. “I don’t know.”

Buck inhales. “They were always really distant growing up. Maddie felt more involved than them for a big part of my childhood. It felt like us versus them.”

“Hmm,” Eddie frowns.

“I never got the sense that they liked me,” Buck admits. “Maybe they love me, in that obligatory parent way, but the jury is still out.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says. “That’s… Well, it’s a shitty way to feel.”

The way he says it, Buck knows he actually does understand. They’ve talked a bit about his own shit with his parents. His father, namely. Though, his mother is certainly not innocent, either.

“Yeah,” Buck shrugs. “It is what it is.”

“C’mere,” Eddie says.

Buck exhales and turns to cross the room and stand in front of Eddie. Eddie stops petting the dog and takes Buck’s hands in his. Cranberry only looks mildly offended at this slight.

“We don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do,” Eddie tells him.

“I already told Maddie I’d come,” Buck rebuts.

[i-like-anything-water]

Step by step guide to redeeming your girlfriends

Plot, basically: Canon! Chloenette meets Reverse! Chloenette. Dedicated to @generalluxun ! Thank you for the motivation, I will now make them go through Scooby Doo levels of chasing and mystery solving (coughs identity reveal coughs)

Chapter One: Is it kidnapping if I thought we were dating?

The sky has visibly darkened during lunchtime. It wasn't the normal rainy sky though. People were scrambling to get inside or find cover as it was most likely an akuma attack. It was strange, however, that the signal never went off nor were there any explosions nearby. There wasn't even a ridiculously dressed villain with their monologue about getting revenge and obtaining the miraculous.

It was quiet. Suspiciously too quiet.

A bolt of lightning flashed on the darkened sky, the dark purple color leaving a web like structure in its path. Okay, that definitely was not normal.

Chloe was sure it was another Akuma and judging from the last one Ladybug and Chat Noir had to face, they were getting ridiculously more strong as time passes. Which doesn't worry her. After all, Ladybug never trusted her completely to wield another miraculous again so why give a damn about her anymore.

The world shook and she unconsciously switched on her TV to the news.

Nadja was reporting on the strange phenomenon currently happening while the purple lightning continued to flash and leave even more intricate patterns.

Chloe pursed her lips in thought. Ladybug had already enlisted a lot of new (temporary) heros since they faced off against Shadow Moth. She won't be outnumbered or lacking in minions if ever.

She sighed, frustration starting to bubble inside her, "Everything would be easier if she would just let me be Queen Bee!"

"You've got a point," a voice said from behind, "but Queen Bee is rather distracting during battles, 'no?"

Before she could scream at the sudden intrusion of a very familiar looking person, she was swept off her bed and was falling down from her balcony, a set of familiar and ridiculously strong arms wrapped around her securely.

Shit.

She was tapping her foot impatiently, the sound echoing against the room they were in. Claw was leaning by the wall, his knowing glance darting from her to the other occupant of the room who was very much unconscious.

"You scared the shit out of her. You have such a lame type in women," he casually tilted his head, narrowly avoiding a metal ball to his face. Rolling his eyes, he stretched out his muscles earning a disgusted sound from his partner and a laugh from him.

"Careful, your softness for her is showing," she scoffed, her arms crossed as she looked at the blonde. "I am not soft, you fucking piece of vomit."

"I told you, my hair is not that damn vomiting emoji! The shade is different!"

"Whatever," she walked to the unconscious blonde and with a soft tug, managed to lift her head up to a more comfortable position. She looked peaceful, her mouth slightly parted as she let out soft snores.

Even in a different universe, the sight of her still made her go speechless.

Which got her confused. This universe's Chloé looks very similar to her Chloé, just with more yellow than soft pink and white, so why,

"Why is she taking so damn long?" She hissed as Claw shrugged, who was looking down at his manicure and let out a 'tsk'. He needed to get an appointment, soon.

"Maybe because you're not together in this universe," he supplied after a moment, "maybe you're in love with me instead."

"That's one of the worst things you've ever said to me and I want to strangle you right now."

Claw shivered, "Agreed. Agree to never speak about that again."

A figure sighed as she shut her bug phone. Gazing at a familiar tower, she idly wonders if she should wait for them to arrive or continue searching for the person she needs. Deciding to do the latter, she jumps off the roof into the night sky.

Ladybug almost crashed into the hotel room, Chat Noir not far behind. After getting a call from a very distraught mayor and with the sky turning an unusual purple, she had a sinking feeling it was another powered up Akuma. This Akuma hasn't showed their face yet, but Chloé's disappearance was alarming.

"She's not here," she whispered after quickly darting inside the suite. Chat Noir voiced his affirmative and gave her a worried look, "The Akuma must have already taken her but..." Chat frowned, "Unless it had a personal vendetta against Chloé, it's unusual of them to stay hidden."

Ladybug sighed. This was going to be a long day.

Notes: It's divided because the author hasn't decided if this should be a short, fluffy funny fic or dive into possible 'getting therapy from yourself of a different multiverse because it's like talking to one of the voices in your head'. Enjoy!

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

holy shit i just realised i asked u to write for shoto and awhile u replied to an anon who sent the exact same thing i did but with the emoji i was about to use but changed last minute…. wtf ANYWAYS PLS WRITE FOR SHOTO 😍😍😍😍😍🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 LOVE UR WORKKKK

Hi!! I’m sorry this took a while to get out, but thank you for your request! Now that it’s Summer I’ll be able to write more and quickly, so even though this is a bit rushed, I hope you like it :)

Pairing: Pro!Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Warnings: fluff; like it’s basically just fluff; so proud of myself for being able to do a single one-shot without writing smut

Word Count: 0.8k

The vibration of your phone rumbled over your table, effectively grasping your attention.

A bookmark was quickly placed within your novel, some murder-mystery series that Mina had recommended. While the writing was pretty good, you were almost sure that she enjoyed it primarily for the charming antihero, a move that you both respected and related to.

You picked up your phone, waiting a few seconds for the facial recognition to pick up on your features.

Flitting through a few reminders, you read your most recent notification, eyes lighting up.

“Sho!” You called, voice echoing through your shared apartment.

It only took a few moments for the bathroom door to open, steam slipping through the growing crack to reveal your fiancé. Times like this only reminded you how unconsciously angelical he was, damp hair falling over the scar adorning his features.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, head tilting in a way that was oddly reminiscent of how a confused dog would question his owner. “Did you get scared by the drying going off again."

A towel lay low on his hips, an extra detail that only caused you to momentarily forget why you called him in the first place.

Regardless, you shook the thought off, playfully rolling your eyes and holding your phone up for him to see. “That happened once. And no, look.”

Shoto blinked, gaze traveling from the device back to you. “Twitter?”

“Yes, baby, it’s Twitter, but that’s not what I meant.” You pushed it into his hands. “Scroll.”

He complied, bi-colored eyes scanning for anything that would've caused you to need him.

It took a few seconds for him to recognize the reason for your excitement, gaze flitting back up to meet your smile and outstretched hand.

“Pay up.”

Last year, 'The People's Hero Billboard Chart' had been the last thing on your mind.

At least, that was until Ochako called, her laughter bubbling over the line.

It was mainly run by online voting and polls, awarding the Pro's trivial titles such as 'Best Hair' or, your personal favorite, 'Most Likely To Secretly Be Dating a Villain.'

You never would have expected that Shoto would have been receiving that of 'Best Looking.'

Obviously, you weren't blind.

It was quite apparent that your partner was extremely attractive. However, you weren't exactly one to keep track of social media that didn't include funny animal and/or panda-shaped bread making videos.

But this was just another opportunity to appreciate what you already knew was true.

He wouldn't say it out loud, but the whisper of a smile gracing his lips gave some hint as to how much he enjoyed your doting, a desire that you were more than happy to indulge in.

Your actions sizzled off as the months went by, but it only took the reminder lighting up your screen to resume them.

Despite receiving a nomination, Shoto had waved away your harmless teasing, only leading for it to escalate, something that he only should've expected.

"Can you even win something twice in a row?"

You shrugged, mindlessly sorting certain silverware into its rightful spot. "For most things, I guess."

"Like what?" He asked, handing you another spoon.

"Uh..." You thought about it for a second, all prior knowledge on sports or artistic awards that could have provided an instance suddenly vanishing. "Like, maybe when Gryffindor wins all the damn time in Harry Potter."

"What's that?"

The dislike of your deficient, and fictional, example completely evaded you, the feeling immediately replaced by one that could only be described by blunt shock. "You're joking."

"No." He blinked. "Should I?"

"Yes, I seriously cannot wait to see the giant rock you've been hiding under." You playfully quipped, earning a low chuckle from the man behind you. "But regardless, I'm ready to bet anything that you'll win again. I'll give you whatever you want."

"But I already have everything I want."

His words made your heart flutter, a giddy smile creeping over your features. "There's really nothing that you want from me?"

Tilting his head, he took a moment before giving you a smirk that he only ever put on when you were alone. "I mean-"

Laughing, you nudged his shoulder, trying to hide the slight warmth bleeding into your cheeks.

It didn't matter what he asked of you.

You won.

He smiled softly, blunt honesty doing nothing to hide the subtle excitement hiding in his actions.

Taking your still-outstretched hand, he tossed your phone onto a pillow and pulled himself onto the covers beside you. He gently took your arm and moved it over his torso, your head now resting on his chest.

Shoto would've given you anything that you asked, regardless of whether or not you had won some silly bet.

But time spent with him was really all you wanted.

[overnighttosunflowers]

Uh, hi! 👋 I’ve read all of ur fics (obsessed with ur fics) and bookmarks for imodna. I was wondering if u have any other recs? I am dying for this ship. /fans self. 🥵

do I have two imodna anons now or is this my same friend back again. either way HELLO AND THANK YOU FOR THE ASK I am sure I do have recs!! also apologies for the delay in answering this because it was a good question and I had to think about it and also my week has been nuts

a lot of my smut bookmarks are on private because (shrugs vaguely in the direction of self-consciousness). while I don't know exactly what kinds of fics you're looking for, judging by your emoji usage I'm gooooooing to guess smut is up your alley and I will rec some under the assumption that this post is going to get buried real quick. also sticking some non-smuts by the same authors. if you are looking for sfw fic specifically shoot me another ask and I'll tack on some more

all 3 of HoodieHeda's fics, also rec High Speed Connection which is sfw and a goddamn delight

all of picturesofthegoneworld's fics but there are a bunch so I will specifically say I'll Come Running and Horripilation (but also seriously read them all)

doribuki's Something To Be Said About Delights anthology fic, plus I already recced her That Look That's Perfectly Un-Sad (sfw) on a different anon post and their current WIP To All Things Housed In Her Silence (sfw) is rewiring my brain

all of marleybone's fics but I'll pick out Flashing Colors because I reread it recently. also his WIP Consequences of a Bleeding Heart is brilliant

vividfriend's true refraction is absolutely wonderful and the rest of their fics are too, homecoming (sfw) was a really lovely post-rez fic

if you like my fics you will probably like lorelei_de_rolo's fics

AstoriaColumnStaircase did a really cool fic called Command that played with use of that spell in a smut context, also her Flowers (sfw) lives rent-free in my head every day of my goddamn life and she does really cute comics too

the_chainbreaker's Think About Me does really cool fun hot things with differing POV narration

imogntemult wrote a really lovely morning sex fic called golden (like daylight)

pmonkey816 wrote a great post-episode-33 fic (i.e. when we knew shit with Otohan had gone bad, but Laudna wasn't quite dead yet) called Wrap me up, Unfold me and I've been meaning to read their We Do, but Friends Don't for ages and ages and have heard good things

acquario wrote a really lovely fic called before you go, can you read my mind?

pieces by Bugsquads is hot as hell

not smut but rozecrest has two lovely poetic little fics that I highly recommend which you have probably already read as I think they are in my bookmarks (as are a number of these probably)

and, not smut but every single goddamn pigflight fic but more specifically I Feel Blood or Amory if you're looking for fucked up and i let it turn me 'round or you wanna be friends forever? if you're looking for sweet.

OKAY THERE ARE DOUBTLESS MORE but my brain is, frankly, melting and I need to go to bed so PLS ENJOY <3

[knownangels]

paid promo

wc: 4.5k

Saha has that song stuck in her head. The one she had first listened to a week ago, in a business meeting. Then, it’d been raw; underproduced. Still  with enough soul the right beat could take it somewhere great. 

She blinks up at the ceiling. Fuckin’ hell, I sound like — 

Her cringe is so severe her eyes scrunch fully shut. The view of the spackled ceiling disappears, along with the strange stain in the left-most corner.  She’d meant to say something about that, earlier. You oughta get that spot checked. Looks like it could be a mold bloom, love. 

Earlier. Before they got to — this point. 

It’s a concentrated effort to unscrew her awful expression. As a kid, Saha had been taught a sure-fire way to go to sleep. Tense up all your muscles, close your eyes, and relax each muscle one-by-one. Focus on feeling it. 

She starts to do that, just out of habit. The shoulders wedged between her thighs jerk. 

“Shit—p”

“I’m not—”

Saha pulls herself back at the same moment as her hookup. They stare at each other for a winding moment. The longer it goes, the more she feels ashamed heat crawl up the back of her neck. She blushes; the rim of heat touches beneath her eyes. 

Quickly, she untwists her fingers from between Grace’s and cradles her own cheeks.

“It really fucks me up that you seem so into it and then —“ Grace waves a hand between them. “It’s literally this every time. I’m not trying to be shitty, Saha. I know how that sounds, okay?”

Saha covers her eyes instead, sighing. “I get it,” she assures Grace. They’ve been friends four years now, with occasional benefits for most of that; she knows Grace doesn’t mean it how it admittedly sounds. She has never been anything but an honest and respectful communicator, even if she could be a bit blunt. 

Saha stiffens and then rubs her fists hard enough colors burst in the dark. Fuckin’ hell. No wonder this shit keeps happening. Where is your brain, idiot? Some very nice head won’t even shut it off long enough to cum? 

“It’s—“

“Mindset.” Grace responds with a slick eye roll. Saha always thought they looked so cool doing that. Naturally above it or humored in a way that wasn’t put on at all. When Saha rolled her eyes, she looked unattractively petulant.

Grace rolls off the bed, collecting their shirt off the floor. They toss satin into Saha’s lap at the same time. She needs to put lotion on; when she catches the dress she’d worn to go out, her fingers catch the fabric. 

“I get it,” Grace repeats. Saha can’t quite tell if it’s mocking or not. They hold up their hands. “I’m not pressuring, I’m not mad. I just would prefer to feel wanted while I fuck somebody, fair?” 

Saha nods. “Fair.”

Grace fans their hands out with a shrug. There, was that so hard? “I’m showering first. I’ll send you off with Thai if you ring it, but you are going home.” 

With that, they pad out of the bedroom and down the hall. Their footsteps echo a bit; Grace was into the whole minimalist thing now. Just their latest in aesthetic noncommittal. 

Saha frowns at that, staring up at that off-white spot in the corner with her arms angel spread into the sheets. Can focus on the interior design choices in flat’s not even yours, and you can’t fucking — stupid. 

*

She smiles at the rideshare driver and approaches the passenger door slowly, holding her phone out for the other girl to see the app home screen: her beaming, prettily-made up face, a few emojis, and a standard quip as her bio. 

The girl, maybe twenty-three at most, widens her eyes. “No. Oh my God, I follow you.” 

Saha smile doesn’t falter. And even though it burns her eyes, she refuses the urge to blink — with this grin, she’d look unhinged. Instead, she puts on a pleasantly bashful tone. 

“Really? That’s so nice.” 

The girls’ brow pulls in slightly, a little drop to the corner of her mouth. 

Fuck. Saha thinks. Sounded insincere, hey? Wonderful, Saha. really. 

When the girl drops her at the entrance to her gated flat community, the car idles with wet red rear eyes fixed on Saha. She stands there, hand paused where it delves halfway into her bag.

Then those red eyes blink off and the car peels away down the street. It comes close to splashing a couple at the bottom of the hill. They laugh swears in unison; neither looks away from the other as they jump to dodge the spray, clutch each other, and giggle before moving along.

Saha’s phone ping. She glances down at it.

Andrea has rated you!

Her phone pings again.

Your average trip rating has gone down -.75 stars. Your average is now 4.25.

She rolls her eyes. 

In the bathroom mirror that night, she debates on the number of slight mounds rising on her cheek; she had tried a new moisturizer for a collaboration, and now she was dealing with the beginning of what was likely to be a nasty breakout. 

Wind-down stories. Three slides max: it’s late enough engagement falls with the nine-to-five business demo. Add those sponsor candles, two bird one stone with a face mask to damage-control. And you can make sure Tuesday’s no-makeup-makeup advert doesn’t have to get spackled on the surface of the fucking moon.

Saha smiles at herself in the mirror. Her left cheek doesn’t pull quite as high. She imagines that muscle tensing and loosening. If a level could be taken to her top lip, would the bubble be centered? 

She leans away from the mirror, palms to cold tile, and frowns. Then she rolls her eyes. 

Still petulant. 

*

Her dates the next few weeks die off in similar fashion. Her inbox is mostly dried-up conversations; the only two serious (and weirdo-vetted) matches had ghosted her after one date each. Granted, both had been agonizing sessions of twin dysfunction and insistence to keep going, almost there. 

One of her girlfriends — of the platonic type — urged her to give it a rest for a bit. Not out of denial, but the insistence that putting the pressure was only adding to her mindset problem. ‘Who cares how long it’s been? You’ll only psych yourself out thinking about that!’ 

I care, Ines. I care very fucking much how long it’s been.

How much she cares becomes painfully obvious during that time, when Saha has little to occupy her other than work. She likes to date — she’s good at dating, finds meeting people fun. Maybe stereotypically, a lot of her closest friends had started as a match on an app or at throwback night at the club. She and Grace had met at a campy Kate Bush drag act. 

It isn’t necessarily an excuse for why she ends up lingering on one of Tess’s Instagram stories. And she doesn’t want to make it seem like the draw is only from a source of loneliness or strikes out elsewhere;  from what little she knows, Tess is better than that. 

Not that Saha would know. Twice now she’s chickened out on the visit to that restaurant. She has a permanent outline of the building’s fine angles and big windows, the reflection of water in smooth glass, from looking the address up online so often. Sometimes when she’s in line at the club or waiting on a package label to print, she looks up its reviews. Scrolls through them, scowls at the nasty ones (few), smiles at the glowing recommendations (many).  

It’s a bit weird, isn’t it? But no — Tess is close enough to her she can care about something like that. My little brother’s partner’s sister? My sister in law? 

Saha winces. 

*

She ends up in Seattle, only a little guilty for the overly-warm message sent asking after things like schedules and busy seasons and big catering events. 

They go back and forth a bit, like that. Just for a few weeks. Proper, polite, somewhat detached chatter back and forth. About the boys, at first —did you see that picture Xavier sent. Then Tess sends her a video, an event invite hosted at the restaurant that Saha leaves on read —

“Listen,” her final straw in the form of a Saturday evening wine date sighs. “You’re really hot. But I need literally anything. Something.” 

Saha sits upright. She’d been staring at the ceiling (a different flat, a different person, no stain, still finding patterns in the paint job rather than focus on the task at hand). When she drops her eyes to the other woman, she blinks. 

“Why is it always really hot?” Saha asks her.

“Huh? I mean, isn’t that—“ 

“Right, yeah. Thanks. Appreciate it.” Saha waves a hand between them. She folds her arms over her bare knees. They’re chilly to the touch; her date leaves their room too cold, and the chill was part of the reason Saha hadn’t been able to fucking focus. 

“I mean, why hot?”

“Because—“

“‘Cuz, I’m watching this new series of a show I adore, yeah.” She drops both feet to the floor, digging black-painted toes into the rug clumps. “And the love interest, she’s always going oh, you’re lovely and sweet.” 

Her date stares at her. 

“You said hot. Not lovely. Or sweet.” Saha frowns. “Not that I need to hear anybody say that. But — aren’t I? Why’s it always that?” 

There’s a beat of silence before her date stands, posted at the foot of her bed with knuckles on her bare hips. “I was really happy you wanted to come out with me, Saha. And then you made me take a different way here in my own car because one of the streets had a pothole and you wouldn't stop worrying about me fucking the transmission.” 

“I don’t see why you’re bringing this up.” Saha mumbles, the lie slippery on her tongue. An embarrassed blush once again heats her cheeks. 

Her date leans over and kisses her cheek. “You’re really high strung. And hot. And, uh, I think you should probably reflect on that first part.”

*

Saha does not fucking reflect on anything. The second her own flat door’s slammed shut behind her (scuffed with a black rubber-mark that she’ll get on hands and knees to wipe off later), her phone is open to an airline. She charges the ticket to her personal card, rather than from her business account. 

She’s got no idea why she does that. 

*

Seattle is wet. It smells different than London, wet. Similarly metallic and biological, but different. She sort of imagined it would be better than what is is — another clogged city. Doesn’t even have the audacity to smell like the gorgeous pines blanketing it. 

She knows the address, and fortunately when the door swings open for her the place isn’t too packed. The hostess is a teenager with pretty, but red-ringed, eyes. In her head, a picture of a stressed student barely balancing grades and a job and friends forms.

“Hi,” the girl says with a peppery, high-toned voice. “Do you need a menu?” 

“I need—“ Saha glances around the pillar that separates the entrance and dining area. “Oh, this is going to make me sound like a dickhead, so I’m sorry. I’m here to see Tess.” 

The girl’s eyebrows shoot up. “The owner? Um. I don’t think really takes, like, media things?” 

Tess nods, smiles in a way she hopes sticks normal to her face. “No, I totally get it. Here, look. I’ve got — she wanted me to come do a review—“

“Is that your dog?”

Saha pulls her phone screen back towards her own face, where her scrolling through messages with Tess has paused on a picture of Opal. 

“Yes,” Saha says with a laugh. “You want to see more?” 

“Yes.”He hostess whispers back, tossing two looks over her shoulders. “This shift manager is such an asshole though, make it quick.” She squeals delightedly at the next video Saha scrolls past. “Oh my God, precious! Okay, fine. Consider me bribed. Stay right here.”

The interior of the restaurant is modern, but not cold; stylish, just not chic. Plenty of reviewers and articles have mentioned the decor being one of the downsides to the restaurant, but Saha disagrees. It’s…sweet, really. Unique and homey — messy, what the stick-arsed food critics had decided on. There are posters from and adverts for local bands and art exhibitions framed along the walls. Behind the till, a showcase of a local high school’s international pen pal art exchange. Report cards, letters in envelopes, band flyers — the walls, actually, are so full that things overlap. Saha wonders if Benji’s been here yet, if he likes seeing the sharp curves of hand drawn punk bands. 

Saha’s staring at one when the swing door to the kitchen slaps against the wall. She turns to look, fingers clutched comfortingly around her crossed wrists, and its — 

Well, it’s a Wolffe. That’s for sure. 

Saha lifts a hand, two fingers raised in greeting. She worries her smile might be too reserved. But where that concern passes over her like an anxious bubble about to burst (what if I say this wrong, do this wrong, what if they don’t like me, she doesn’t like me?), Tess looks the complete opposite. 

At first, actually, she looks confused. Saha can only imagine what her teenage hostess had described to her. She probably used the word influencer. That would certainly contribute to the confusion — but it lasts only a second. Then Tess’s face splits into a massive smile she recognizes.

“Hullo,” Saha calls, offering another little wave before she feels stupid and drops her hand. “Uh. I’m really sorry to crash in. I was finally in town—“

Lie.

“Oh my God! You finally showed!” 

She moves swiftly around the counter, wiping wet hands on a white rag she tucks back into a pocket on her apron. It’s mostly pristine, except for what look like a few skins of carrot. Tess glances down and brushes them off, her grin going sheepish. 

“You didn’t even warn me—“

“Sorry!” Saha laughs, too. “It was a…well, honestly. It was a spur of the moment thing.”

They’re smiling at each other for a beat, right then. No speaking, no noise aside the distance clatter from the kitchen. Someone sat out at the patio listening to music too loud. The quiet shuffle of waiters to the few full tables, the chatter of a loyal crowd at an unpopular time. 

“I thought I was going to have to pitch it to you.” Tess blurts. “Like, little old restaurant, we’re not good enough for—“

“Stop!” 

“I can’t!” Tess whisper-yells back at her. She reaches out to close her hands around Saha’s arms, shake her. “Oh fuck! You actually showed up. I have to make you something.”

Saha glances around. “Only if you’re not too busy. And I’ll pay.” 

Tess’s face goes stony, her eyes dead serious. “Over my fucking corpse.” 

*

There’s still a bit of a rush for Tess to get through, so Saha ends up in a secluded corner. There’s a few news clippings tucked under the glass of her table, which she reads while sipping at a glass of wine she probably could have forgone. Each of the stories seems to be about a local kid — Seattle or Boston, the quantity of accomplishments split evenly between the two. There’s a story behind all the memorabilia, and Saha’s starting to put it together. 

Especially when she picks up the menu and discovers there is only one category under which everything is listed: comfort food. 

Eventually Tess quiets the meager rush of customers; Saha can hear her herding cats, as close as she is to the swinging kitchen doors. She’s never worked in a kitchen before, unlike her mum. Even just the thought of it makes her want to puke. All those mistakes to make. All the pressure. 

When Tess returns to her table, she hooks a booted foot around the chair leg and practically throws herself down into the seat.

“Long day?” Saha prompts, chin propped in her palm. Tess looks glowy, rather than sweaty — but she does smell like some strange mixture of ingredients that Saha isn’t sure go together. Perils of the job, and all that.

“Sort of.” Tess responds dutifully, shrugging. Her smile goes a bit wicked then. “It just recently got better.”

She isn’t sure what to say to that, other than huff politely. Other than — not watch when Tess leans back, body stretched long, to untie the apron from around her waist. Other than blink, other than turn her head away. 

Don’t fuck up, something sinister in her chest bubbles out. You’d make it awkward. You’d ruin Benji’s good thing. 

I’m not going to do anything but be very cordial and polite with Xavier’s sister. Saha is fully aware she’s got two voices in her head, snipping back and forth. She is also, unfortunately, totally unable to stop them. 

“Did you want to—“

“I had a question about—“

Tess’s teeth show again; she covers them with a pale palm, eyebrows raised. No, you. 

Saha rolls her wrist. “Go on, then.” 

Red eyebrows hitch up. The ends are lighter, almost white; she wonders how long ago Tess had bleached them. “Hm?”

She repeats that motion. “G’on.” 

Tess smiles a little, chin tilting. “G’on. That’s cute. I was tempted to make you go first, but that was like. Absolutely distracting. G’on. Elaborate so I can do literally whatever you ask.”

Saha’s lips part on a tiny breath. “Ah. Shameless.”She chides teasingly (fuck, don’t flirt back, Saha). Saha clears her throat. “Anyway — you said. You said you could pitch it, right? So pitch it.” 

“Huh?” 

God, but she looks cute confused. Saha steels herself quite bravely. “Sell the restaurant to me, Wolffe.”

Tess has the audacity to tinge her smile sheepish. “Oh. Okay. Well —”

Saha watches, perhaps a bit too rapt, as the head chef adopts a posture fit for her. Tess goes from someone you might mistake for a particularly cheeky bartender, knowledgeable and expert without the optimism of a restaurateur, to the owner. It’s the pride, Saha decides. Earnest and obvious, the secret ingredient of the establishment’s success has to found in that sweet charisma. 

And if Saha thought that was rosy-colored enough, she hadn’t been prepared for the actual pitch.

“Well, you saw the menus. All snacks? Like, nothing heavy. That was the whole point. Everything is based off some iconic snack food. But nothing corporate, right? We don’t do — fucking—“ Tess makes a disgusted face, and Saha stifles a laugh behind her hand. “I don’t know, orange cheddar organic cheese crispy triangles.” 

“Doritos is the first thing that comes to mind?” Saha twists in her stool, peers over each shoulder. “I thought this was a respectable establishment with worldly staff.”

Tess’s cheeks are pink. “Watch it.” 

“Right, right. GO on. Nothing corporate.”

Tess nods. The color doesn’t fade. “Right, nothing corporate. Anyway. We’ll do things like, dunno. Recreate those cheap veggie party platters you’d get in grocery stores. Or, hm, we have roasted chickpeas. Onigiri. Everything is basically from me or one of the other team’s childhood. Health, wildly unhealthy. Steve, our dishwasher? We have the marshmallow peanut butter sablé cookies because his mom would make him marshmallow peanut butter sandwiches for lunch.”

“That sounds incredibly American, actually.” 

When Tess laughs, she puts her whole body into it. “Oh my God. It super fucking is, isn’t it?”

Saha smiles a little distantly. “My mum used to do toast pizzas for us. With this specific — well, it’s a tomato chili sauce. And she’d throw whatever cheese we had left, and veggie scraps —“

“And you had probably like, the best pizza ever to your kid brain.” 

She nods. Tess mirrors it, excitedly leaning forward. 

“That’s exactly the point. And we’ve got, like, community weekends. We’ll put out a blast for people to come in and give us suggestions and sometimes they get added to the menu. Our special board is a weekly rotation from background. There’s a decent Vietnamese community a few blocks down, so we had people tell us what their favorites were. We’ll do these really good rolls, basically, of sesame seed and coconut and rice paper —“ 

Saha’s hand brushes up her throat. She’s perplexed by the sudden lump in it for only a moment. Then she realizes the source of the emotion: that passion. It was the same food passion her mum had, the same Benji had picked up. Tess, she guessed, was someone who had food centered for her in some way. Based on what she knows about their upbringing from Xavier (and plenty of nosy assumptions), Saha figures that introduction happened outside their home. 

She imagines Tess as a toothy, charming kid. Wide-eyed at a plate she didn’t recognize, but eager to try. 

“What should I get?”

Tess tucks her arms behind her back, adopting a professional posture that seems almost uncharacteristic to the woman Saha (if only slightly) knows. 

“Well, if you want to start I would recommend—“ 

Saha snorts. Tess cuts herself off, eyebrows up. “No, I mean. What would you make? What would you get?” 

* 

It’s the right or wrong question to ask, depending. 

She eats so much Saha suspects she might be slumped over in the booth, when Tess finds her again. 

“Satisfied?” 

Saha blinks up at her, eyes glossy from the carbs and late hour. “I took so many pictures, I am so sorry. All I was doing was sitting here, eating your food, taking pictures.”

When Tess tucks her hands behind her back, rocking slightly on her heels, Saha’s fucking skull buzzes. “Aw, shucks. I mean. I’ll take that as a positive review? And endorsement?” She picks up a few plates. “But, um. I’m letting the kids go early since it’s a game day.  If you want —only if you want — I’ll save a few slices of this weekend’s dessert.”

Saha’s turn to raise her brows expectantly.

Tess clears her throat, gaze bouncing off to the side. “The office is down the hall, past the catering closet—“

“Oh, special treatment?” 

She means for it to be lighthearted. A funny jab. But Tess only holds her stare, green eyes so intense where they hold Saha’s that she nearly feels it. 

“Yeah,” Tess breathes, or whispers, or promises, really. 

Saha strands abruptly, her knee knocking against the side of the table. “I’ll meet you there. I just — I need to get air. Ate too much.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Saha stumbles backwards, swearing under her breath. “Oh for —okay. Okay. It was so good, Tess, really. Such good food.”

“G’on!” Tess mocks, flapping both her hands. “I’ll get forks.” 

*

Their plates are long empty by the time their conversation slows, the dainty and once-moist yellow cake crumbs dry and stuck to paper. They were boxed caked cookies, as Tess referred to them lovingly, except with none of the pre-packing.  A simply modified recipe the Wolffe matriarch would make often for dessert — because it was quick and cheap. Just two eggs and some oil. Saha has never had those in originality, so Tess’s fine dining twist immediately move to her number one spot.

A lot of the foods tonight have shattered Saha’s lists and records. She has no idea where to start with the review they’ve been teasing about. If she even wants to write it at all. It’s not egotistical for her to be concerned about the state of the place after Saha blasts it to her following. Sometimes, she goes back to places she’s visited and found that the fame and online traction had made everything worse.

I got a nice cupcake lady doxxed. Saha admits silently, staring at a crumb on Tess’s chin while she offers an animated narration to a recent local restaurant drama. I got a food truck shut down over a silly code ruling that people reported becuase of the increase in business. 

“I’ve got to go,” Saha finally hedges once Tess’s latest story has wrapped. She lifts her watch and turns it so the other woman can see. “Tess, fuckin’ hell? We’ve been at it four hours now. When do you open?”

Tess opens and closes her mouth a few times. “Um. Early. For brunch.” 

“Shit!” She slaps her forehead a bit too hard (another glass of maybe-shouldn’t wine had paired with dessert nicely). They both giggle at the noise;  Tess snatches up her hand and holds it still. 

“Jesus, don’t literally beat yourself up? This was great. This was so fun. It’s worth like, four hours of sleep. I’m glad—“

“Oh, don’t.” Saha pleads, waving her hand in the air. She’s a little tipsy and the sentimental sway of the conversation will make her rebalance with tears. “Oh, don’t be nice.”

Tess squeezes her hand. “I’m serious. I’m so glad you came. I’m glad you got to see it — I’m glad —“

They both pause. Tess chews on her lip, palm lingering its gentle cup around Saha’s knuckles. 

“I’m really glad Benji, you know. I’m glad your brother has someone like you.” Tess is looking at her that way. Saha leans back in the chair with tremendous effort. The office is small, compared to the rest of Tess’s gorgeous establishment; it houses not much more than a desk, some record shelves, and the two uncomfortable spinning office chairs they perch in. The space feels even smaller, now that Saha is aware she’s being…observed.

“Yeah,” she says around that lump in her throat. “Yeah, me too. I mean — I’m glad Xavier —“

“I know.” Tess laughs. She pumps Saha’s hand firmly like it’s their first time meeting. “We should do this more.”

No. No, definitely not.

“Okay,” Saha says instead. “Can. Sorry if this is strange. I know, right, that — I mean. I really appreciate all this. You staying after. And being a good host. And I’m glad we can do this, right? Get along.”

Tess stares at her. she looks as though she wants to stand. Wants to pace. 

So Saha rises first; before she realizes what she’s doing, her arms spread. “If you’re not a hugger…”

Tess barrels into her, arms winding tight around Saha’s waist before she’s squeezed nearly in half.

*

Once she’s back home, Saha finds a local Seattle florist online. She sends along a thank-you arrangement, which seems the least she can do: strands of gorgeous green pine, alpine strawberry leaves, and dainty camas. She isn’t sure what they all mean — but the florist was local, the way Tess appreciated, and the flowers were too, and — and it felt fitting, saying thank you. For more than just a meal. 

The weekend after her present is delivered, Saha stands in uncomfortably tall heels at a gallery showing. Right as she’s nearly sucked into another inane high society bit of chatter, her phone goes off.

Tess has posted a new picture of the restaurant; it’s a magazine clipping of a news piece. In the background, each of those memory-plastered tables has been topped with a familiar bouquet.

Saha rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling.

[spacerockwriting]

Weekly tag wednesday!

Thank you Sky @skylerwinchester @dynamic-power @energievie @stocious

which character from any media would you like to have as a father?

I don't know??? Ya spacerock's got daddy issues.

if money, laws, time, and effort were no object, what animal would you want to have?

Giraffes! They're so derp I love them.

what is your Chinese takeout order?

Idk, i don't eat much chinese food. Like, hardly ever. I mostly just eat the fortune cookies they have there.

what's your favourite emoji? Uhh, I'm loving all the ones from the gallafic club.

would you rather have a library, greenhouse, or home theater in your house?

Home theater. Film major here. Love that idea. Also, we just ironically got a green house yesterday for my dads tree obsession.

what childhood tv show do you think of the most fondly?

Hmmm. Rugrats maybe? Had a shit ton of rugrats dolls and a rugrats birthday party. Rugrats or Blues Clues probably.

what was your tumblr like when you first joined?

I've been a tumblerina for a while now. Since 11? Then in college I moved to an RP blog, with my main, and a LarryStylinson blog. Had that until mid2013 when Lance and I went to a different South Park RP, along with my main &Larry. Once we broke into Indie RP I created a few more South Park RP blogs, then once Lance passed I slowly stopped using the RP account we associated with each other. Made my HP RP in 2014 after SP shit was getting too cliquey, then just kind of sidebloged all my blogs from there for being lazy. Reattempts at SP RP had attempts, but nothing beats 2013 so -shrug- Nothing will ever beat 2012-13 where the community was there, Gallaclub is the only thing coming close <3

what clothing style do you love but don't feel compelled to replicate yourself? Super dressy maybe? I do my best to wear whatever the fuck I want but I'm just, suits and shit aren't gonna be a thing I think. Except like, my wedding if that were to happen.

if you were plopped into a fictional world, which one would you know the layout of the best?

Maybe South Park? Hogwarts, too, but lbr fuck JK.

what is your favourite piece of art?

Like ART ART? I like Van Gouh's starry night. My mom went to the interactive exhibit and I love that. (She's also got some starry night socks and stuff. Plus she had a shirt with a van on it that said van go.) I also like Andy Warhol's stuff? Also love seeing greek statues but forever anxious I'm gonna be a clumsy spacerock and knock them over.

do you have a water bottle? what does it look like?

I've got a cup i bring to work that's Disney 100 and it changes color from blue to purple in the cold. It usually has mountain dew in it. Also I have a REAL waterbottle and its got Shibas on it and counts the level of water to 2 liters. But I hoard cups, always getting souvieneer cups bc im that person.

what fanfic trope is a quiet fave?

Found family is a quiet fav, and sometimes fluff. But mostly I want angst, I want plot.

do you carry a daily bag? what does it look like? what's the weirdest thing in it?

So I carry a bag for work, which has headphones, wallet, work badge, phone, some tangles, squishy giraffe, pens, 2 books: one notebook thing and Heartstopper Volume 4 is in it, and random junk that really needs to be removed lol. Outside of work I just wallet phone the end.

if you had to ship Mickey with another Gallagher, who would it be?

Hmmm maybe Lip? Or Carl would be funny too, but the Lip and Mickey enemes would be funny.

what is a fanfic trope you didn't expect to like and then very much did?

Hmmm. I dunno. AU's maybe?

Do you think s11 Mickey can still carry s11 Ian?

Yeah, if he tries to|has too. But it's very awkward and Ian gets a kick out of him trying.

who got custody of the killing bat when they sold the house?

The OG? Probably Carl. But they all get a killing bat as a housewarming gift for the nostalia. Every house gets a Gallagher killing bat, even Fiona's house in Florida.

I'm a day late so tagging everyone else.

[lessthanpure]

Making the Best of it Chapter 2

Pairings: Pete Alonso/OFC

Other people: Jeff McNeil

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, attempted rape/non con (in the beginning and not by Pete), LOTS of pov switching, New York Mets RPF

Summary: Sloane heals.

Wordcount: 2636 (what a good number)

ao3 link

Sloane updates Pete once a week, and they talk about other stuff too. She finds out Pete likes to do metal and woodwork in the offseason, and she shows him some of her drawings. He compliments each one intelligently- the colors, the emotion, the composition- and it makes her stomach flutter. They also send each other random shit. She had laughed until she almost threw up about his stupid ‘scarecrow getting an award because he was outstanding in his field’ joke. 

Then she gets the good news that her rib fractures are healed completely, and there won’t be any problems in the future. She smiles when she gets back to her mom’s house. ‘Hey. My ribs healed. 🎉’

Pete chuckles at the emoji party favor. ‘Congrats.’ He pauses. ‘You should celebrate,’ he offers.

‘Yeah, my friends already said they’re planning a ‘welcome back’ party.’ And it’s true- they had been pestering Sloane for updates and had come to visit a few times. They had all gushed about how hot Pete was and Kensie had teased Sloane mercilessly about Jeff’s crooked smile. 

‘Sounds like fun,’ Pete texts back. He wonders if it’s in the range of politeness to invite himself.

Sloane looks at the text and steels herself. ‘It should be. You and Jeff can come if you want.’

Pete stares at the screen. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.’

Pete relaxes. ‘Okay. Thanks.’

‘Cool! I’ll text you the details once my friends cough them up.’

Pete smiles. ‘Sounds like a date.’ He erases the last word and writes ‘plan’ instead.

Sloane sends back an emoji thumbs up. 

Two weeks later, Sloane sends Pete the details of the party. It’s gonna be at Kensie’s house.

Pete sends the information to Jeff.

Pete drives them to the address he had saved. The men look around the nice suburban street before Pete rings the bell. Sloane is the one who answers the door, and Pete’s heart stutters. She’s smiling widely, the bruises and cuts are healed, and she smells like vanilla. She’s wearing a red shirt and blue jeans. “Pete! Jeff! So glad you guys could make it, come in!” She stands aside and they walk in. Sloane closes the door behind them. 

Pete looks around- the living room is big with a sectional and a TV, it’s open to the kitchen via a cutout window, and there’s a hallway that must lead to the bathroom and/or bedrooms in front of him. There’s a staircase going up, too. 

“It’s good to see you two again,” Kensie comes around the corner. “Food and drinks are here, mingle if you want,” she points at a table and then flaps her hand in the air. 

Pete and Jeff go to the table with the food and drinks. There’s snacks and pizza and soda, and then a cooler for alcohol. Jeff kneels and roots through the cooler. He makes a triumphant noise and comes up with two bottles of their preferred brand of beer. He opens both with the bottle opener sitting on the table and hands one to Pete. They clink and sip. 

Pete looks around for Sloane and finds her laughing with a guy. As he watches, the guy puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side. Pete’s hand tightens on his bottle and Sloane soon walks away from him. Pete approaches the guy. “Hey,” Pete says. 

“Hi,” the guy smiles widely. “I’m Topher,” he extends his hand. 

“Pete.” They shake hands. 

“Topher,” a guy calls, and he turns his head. A blond guy comes into the room and tucks himself under his arm. Topher pulls him in and kisses his cheek. Pete relaxes. “I’m Mac,” he extends his hand.

“Pete.” They shake hands. 

“You did a really brave thing,” Mac says, smiling. “You saved Kensie and Sloane.”

“We just did what anyone would do,” Pete shrugs. “And it wasn’t brave. Those guys were cowards. Only cowards ambush people like that.”

“Amen, brother,” Topher says, lifting his can of soda. 

They talk sports, but steer away from baseball. Pete appreciates it. Pete sees Sloane cross the room and watches her. He excuses himself and approaches her. Before he gets there, a girl stops him. “You did a great thing, stopping those assholes,” she says.

“Just what anyone who could help would have done. Pete,” he offers his hand.

“Penny.” She shakes it. “It was still great. You helped my friends.” 

Pete sticks to water after his first beer- he’s the designated driver tonight. He mingles and talks with Sloane’s friends.

“Dessert,” Kensie calls.

The party starts to move to the kitchen and Pete follows. He sees a spread of desserts- cupcakes and brownies and other little things. Sloane ends up next to him. “You’re really gonna try to tempt me off my diet, aren’t you,” he teases.

“I’ll tell you what,” Sloane says, looking at him. “I’ll match your desserts.”

“No, eat what you want,” Pete protests.

“I gained some weight when I couldn’t walk much,” Sloane shrugs, obviously embarrassed as she runs her hand against her lower stomach.

“You look great,” Pete says before he thinks. Sloane looks up at him and smiles gently. 

“Thanks. But matching?”

“Eat what you want, Sloane,” Pete assures. She shrugs and takes a tiny plate, getting two chocolate covered strawberries. She offers it to him, but he shakes his head with a soft smile. She picks one up and bites into it, juice running down her chin. He wants to lick it off. She walks away and he tries not to watch her eat.

The party winds down and Sloane and Kensie make sure everyone too drunk to drive are either staying over or in a car with someone sober behind the wheel. Pete finds Jeff and they say goodbye to first Kensie and then Sloane. “We had a really good time tonight,” Pete tells Sloane softly.

“I’m glad,” she smiles. “Text me when you’re home safe,” she requests, touching the crook of his elbow and making tingles shoot up his arm.

“I will.”

“Bye, Sloane,” Jeff says.

“Bye, Jeff. Bye, Pete.”

Pete walks Jeff out. Jeff isn’t plastered, but he is too buzzed to drive. He sits in the passenger seat of the car with a grunt and Pete pulls away from the curb. Jeff leans his head against the cool window. “That was fun,” Jeff says quietly.

“It was,” Pete smiles.

“Mmm. Kensie’s and Sloane’s friends are nice.”

“Yeah.”

Pete puts on soft rock music and drives Jeff home, making sure he gets in his apartment okay. He gets into his own apartment and gets a beer, opening it before he sits on the couch and opens his phone to Sloane’s contact. ‘Home safe. I had a great time.’

‘I’m glad for both. I’ll invite you two to the next one we throw.’

Pete smiles. ‘That’d be great.’

Pete puts his phone down and finishes his beer, recycling the bottle and taking a shower before he goes to bed.

Sloane is in Pete's apartment and he settles on the couch, facing her. She slowly approaches and straddles his lap. “Hey, sweetheart,” he greets. He gets a noseful of warm vanilla as she stretches. He hums in pleasure as Sloane relaxes into his hold. He noses her neck and she tilts it for him without question. He licks her jaw and makes her purr against his mouth. Pete bites her throat gently and she hums. He thrusts against her and she laughs lightly. 

“Do you want something, Pete,” she asks, even though she knows.

“You,” Pete growls lightly. 

“You have me,” she says. 

Pete hums and smiles. “Yeah I do.” She presses her hands through his hair and kisses him filthily. He moans, pressing up into it. He’s getting hard. She twists her hips against him, making him growl. “Bed. Now.”

“Yes, Alpha.” He shudders at the title. He picks her up and carries her to his room while Sloane licks his jaw. He lays her out on the bed and she stretches slowly. He gets on top of her and peels off her shirt. She’s wearing a pretty red bra and he gets his mouth on the join of her neck and shoulder. She purrs. He gets her pants off and she’s wearing matching panties. He sits back and just enjoys the scents pouring off her. Rich vanilla and the sweet scent of a flustered Omega. And, of course, slick. He growls at the latter and pulls off her remaining clothes. She’s perfect. 

Pete kisses her, moving her up the bed until she’s lounging on his pillows. Sloane hums, raking her fingers gently through his beard. He kisses her fingers sweetly before he kisses down the center of her body and puts her legs over his shoulders. She arches prettily against him when he licks into her. She tastes amazing and Pete doesn’t think he’s ever been harder in his life. But he needs to get her off first. He licks into Sloane, hand coming up to rub her clit. She whines beautifully and he licks deeper. Pete moves his head up and licks her clit, fingers sliding down and pressing into her. She sighs, hands coming down and touching him like she can’t help it. She scratches against the back of his head, playing with his hair. He rumbles appreciatively and licks around his fingers. She tastes amazing. “Pete, Pete, Pete,” she chants. 

He licks into her again. She screams when she cums. He comes up, licking his lips. Sloane shudders, staring at his mouth. She gestures him up and he crawls, letting her lick his jaw before she kisses him. She must taste herself on his tongue but she doesn’t seem to care when Pete tangles tongues with her. She pulls at the hem of his shirt and he sits up, jerking it over his head. He shimmies out of his pants and boxer briefs and she wraps a hand around his cock. He stutters his hips into her grip. 

“Sloane,” he groans through his teeth.

“I want to suck your cock.” Pete moans and nods. He lets her flip them and she gets between his legs. She licks him from root to tip slowly, seeming to just want to taste him. He winds a hand into her long soft brown hair and watches her. She tastes every inch of him and then goes to his head and licks teasingly, fist around his base and tongue barely flicking out between her pretty lips. 

“Sloane,” he moans.

She starts to swallow him. She gets to his base, not even a hint of a gag reflex. 

Pete startles awake, hard in his bed. He groans, covering his face. He needs to stop acting like a high schooler with his first real crush. He’s almost 30, God damn it! 

Pete takes off his boxer briefs and slowly touches himself to the memory of the dream. He cums, his release dripping over his fist. He can imagine that pretty Omega eagerly licking up every drop. Pete wipes himself up with tissues from his bedside table, too tired to wash up properly, and goes back to sleep. 

Pete picks up his phone the next morning, face warm from remembering the sex dream. He opens up Sloane’s contact and pauses. He can’t say he enjoyed the party, he’ll sound like a broken record. And he can’t ask how she’s feeling because she fully healed weeks ago. He groans and opens Jeff’s instead, knowing he rarely gets hangovers. 

‘What do I text Sloane? I already told her we liked the party and she’s completely healed. What do I do?’

Jeff texts back after ten minutes. ‘Chill, dude. Ask her out!’

‘You make it sound so easy,’ Pete scowls as he texts.

‘Look, I get that it’s scary. Most first dates are. But you know she has a crush on you and you like her too. You’re gonna have to bite the bullet eventually if you want to date her.’

‘I do,’ Pete admits. ‘Any pointers? You’ve dated more recently than I have.’

‘Just be straightforward,’ Jeff advises. ‘Don’t let there be any confusion about what you’re asking.’

Pete nods and goes back to Sloane’s messages. “Just be straightforward,” he whispers to himself, psyching himself up. He types. ‘Hey. I was wondering if you’d like to go to dinner with me sometime.’ He sends it before he can second-guess himself. Actually, it would be more like quadruple-guessing himself. If he knew the word for eight times, he’d use that one but quadruple is the max one he can think of.

Pete makes laps around his apartment for an hour. His phone makes his text tone noise and he grabs it. ‘So, how did it go,’ Jeff asks.

‘She hasn’t responded.’

‘She could be working,’ Jeff offers.

‘She works online.’

‘She could just be good about not checking her phone during work hours,’ Jeff points out. ‘Not everyone is as glued to our phones as we are.’

‘True.’

Or maybe she doesn’t want to date you and won’t see or talk to you ever again , the mean part of him says. “Shut up,” he tells it.

Pete cleans his apartment while he waits. He flips through channels, antsy. He finally gets a response at noon. ‘Sorry Pete,’ he reads, and his stomach drops out. ‘I didn’t see this until now. I’d like that.’ Pete puts his fist in the air and whoops. 

Sloane finishes up her morning meetings, two of which could have been emails, and is relieved to take her lunch hour. She pulls her phone closer and sees she has a text. She always puts her phone on silent while she works, otherwise she gets sucked in. She reads the text from Pete and her heart stutters and her eyes widen. She smiles and taps out a reply. She waits for Pete’s text. ‘What do you like to eat,’ he asks.

‘As long as it isn’t too spicy and isn’t raw fish, I’m pretty good about anything.’ She’s the classic white girl- practically any spice is too much. And raw fish just weirds her out because she watched too many medical drama shows in her teen years and there were a few cases of mystery intestinal worms. Ew. 

‘There’s this American place I’ve been meaning to try out. It’s called Wehner’s. Have you heard of it?’

‘I haven't,’ Sloane replies. She looks up the restaurant on her computer and smiles at the cozy decor. It’s not overly romantic, but it’s nice. ‘This one,’ she sends the link to Pete. 

‘Yeah, that’s it. What do you say around 6 on Friday,’ he offers.

She’s about to accept when she remembers a trick she had learned from Kensie when the other girl was dating online. ‘Sorry, I’m doing something then,’ she says. ‘How does Saturday at the same time sound,’ she counter-offers. She puts her phone down and waits. Guys can be controlling about when and where they take dates. Pete hadn’t seemed like that, but it’s always good to double check. 

‘That’s fine, too. Do you want to meet there?’

Sloane exhales, relieved. ‘Sounds perfect, Pete. See you Saturday at 6.’

‘See you then.’

Pete grins like a fool in his empty apartment. He’d listened to Canha talk about restaurants enough and written some down in his phone that sounded like he’d actually like them and weren’t literal Michelin Star restaurants. That’s just too fancy for him. Give him a burger and fries and he’s a happy man. He makes a call to the restaurant and gives them his first name. He makes the reservation no problem. He also texts Jeff.

‘See? I told you it would work out.’

Pete laughs. ‘Yeah, yeah. No need to rub it in.’

[dine-on-nervine]

get it together, Steph! <3

Do you prefer hardly toasted at all or burnt toast? I like a little to a medium toasting. I'd set the toaster as low as I could that would give the bread a touch of color in high school when I'd slam toasted peanut buttered bread in my face going out the door in the morning.

What time do you have to be out of bed by on a typical day? My alarm goes off at 8:40am and I try to leave by 9:25, but neither of those are hard and fast so long as I get to work by 10:00.

When was the last time you cleaned your bedroom? (looking around) WAAAY too long.

In real life do you laugh like 'haha', 'hehe' or something else? heh heh

Do you know anyone who says things like 'lol' in real life? I do that, I admit, and my nerdiest of friends likely do that too.

Do you have any unusual skills? According to a few people: I can make your toes curl once or twice more than you thought you were capable of.

Do you have any bug bites right now? Too cold for that presently.

Is there anything annoying you at the moment? Tædium vitæ.

Who's your favourite person? This space available.

Are you more of a cat or dog person? Kitties!

Do you live out of the nearest town? Not really, the town I live in has two distinct parts and I'm not in the downtown portion, I'm in the over-hill-and-dale part.

Do you like to look at other peoples' houses? I do, I like to see design styles and decorations.

Are there any chores you actually enjoy doing? There are a few at work that I take joy in.

What's the weirdest compliment you've ever received? It's not that people have thought I looked like Gilligan or Jim Carey, it's that someone thought my catboy looked like Agent Mulder. I am not sure how a cat can resemble David Duchovne.

Do you remember all those rhymes like 'i before e except after c'? I remember the ones I was taught, but heard them more regarding music than language. "Every Good Boy Does Fine" and stuff.

When did you last have an 'Oh, I get it now!' moment? When this woman I had a date with got on her phone, texted someone, and then when her phone rang a few minutes later she answered she said "I'll call you back in 15 minutes." We started the date early because we were both there, so the date which was supposed to start at 7:00 ended at 7:10. I was thinking, "didn't you block out this period of time right here?" as I was leaving... but then I realized when she texted a friend to save her from having to spend much more time with me. [shrug emoji]

Would you say you're more witty or childish about jokes? I don't really know, my jokes run the gamut.

Do you get on with boys or girls better? Girls, historically.

Do people often confide in you? Do you like it? They do, including people I barely know, and I think it's flattering that they trust me and will confide their secrets and issues to.

Who is someone you really admire? Those who have all their shit together.

Do you prefer piano or guitar music? Probably piano.

Do you like helium balloons? They have their place in society and the ecosystem.

Have your parents ever suspected something untrue about you? They have. Thing is, more often than not the thing they have suspected about me was true and sometimes they couldn't prove it so my playing innocent/unaware of it was enough to move their suspicions (or at least visually) away from me.

Do you have any fears that seem weird to others? There probably is, but I can't think of any fears. I have things I loathe that might not seem linear but I don't complain aloud about them.

Have you ever wished you'd been born someplace else? During an argument in my teen years my father said "If it weren't for us, you'd be out in the sagebrush." No, it means I would have been adopted by a loving family instead... I don't recall if I said that out loud. Probably not, but his words trying to invoke gratitude failed.

What d'you think about videogames? I like oldschool, Atari and arcade. The ones with too many controls to fiddle with lose me.

Are there any forms of art you personally find pointless? I do feel that way about a few. But they hurt no one so I just turn away from what doesn't interest me.

What would you, or do you, study at college? BA: Interdisciplinary Bachelors in computer science and English.

Are you tired right now? Not tired, a wee bit sore, but I have had my caffiene.

Have you ever had, or wanted, a pet ferret? No.

Is there anything you find undeserving of the hype it received? Quite a few things. Mostly celebrities/media personalities. Especially the "famous for being famous" and nothing useful folks. Remember when American Idol first started and it said that it was going to make singing stars out of people? Yes, sure, it has, but how many of the winners and first runners-up have wildly popular careers? Popularity is earned, not fabricated. For every Carrie Underwood you have three "what happened to that person?" flash in the pans that might still be touring or showing up on gameshows. And I will always grin over the fact that Adam Lambert lost in Idol yet fucking JOINED QUEEN.

What's something you do a lot? Something other than what I need to be doing. Between paragraphs here I am scanning family photos that I put off for two months and now, since in three weeks I will be visiting my parents and would like to bring a CD full of those photos, I need to get momentum and do this thing in its entirety. It's just a huge project.

Are you currently on any other websites? Just this one.

Are you good at using Photoshop? I like to think I am adequate. By no means expert and I would love to have that kind of skill, but happily tutorials and instructions are plentiful online for doing the thing I need to do satisfactorily.

What were you last embarrassed about? I'm not sure. I recall there being a slight embarassment in the recent past, I don't recall what it was about, but it's seldom I feel ashamed about things in my present. Things in my past... oooh yeah.

Are there any clothing items you really want but can't find? I don't think so, however I do have a multimeter that I haven't seen in months and it's not in the toolbox so must have fallen behind the closet shelving. It's a major undertaking to get in there to look.

Have you ever been told you naturally tilt your head a certain way? No one has said that, however coworkers told me I have a distinctive walk. I credit my work boots for that noise.

What does your dream house look like? It's a Craftsman style, original (with all the wood) rather than revival (where only the curb appeal is in the style).

Do you wear a lot of make-up? Straight male here.

Do you have any projects on the go right now? As we speak. 3/4 of the way through scanning 4 images in one 126 negative strip at 2400dpi... will cut the scan into pieces this evening, I am trying to get the quantity done before focusing on quality.

What's a habit you find gross? Chewing tobacco.

Would you rather have a Poloroid or a Lomo camera? I used to have a Poloroid 600 and the photos are ass. Lomography I can dig a little more because of the surreal coloration, but my brain likes things to be as close to actual/real as possible, and I have not gotten my head around what to look for or do to create that effect. (I don't mean tutorials or filters, I mean comprehending what I am supposed to be creating and how. I know of plenty of people who post-produce their realistic photos by hand into Lomo-style and I don't see what they see to make the images what they make.)

When was the last time you were jealous? It was one week ago today. And my telling myself not to be failed because I wasn't wrong in what I thought was going to happen.

Are you one of those people who see things for sale and say 'I could've come up with that!'? It's surprising the number of things that come to market as new and brilliant that you look at and say "you know, this already existed?" or "you know, readily-available and cheaper tools work much better than this toy?" I guess there is some envy that someone's getting paid to reinvent the wheel but all they did was add pinstripes.

Do you, or did you, really look forward to when you can finally move away? I am hoping to do that myself. This 9x12 upstairs room does not bring chicks by the drove, smells like dogs, and isn't big enough for the amount of shit I have in here. However, price is a consideration, location is important, and I've put that on hold for a bit while I focus on some other stuff that is less tolerable or functional. Moving is a want and a should, not a major need or an immediate imperative.

Are you the one who holds everyone's bags at theme parks while they ride? I have never had that experience.

What's the worst tattoo you've ever seen? I've seen some truly shit-tier tattoo executions. I've also seen some really stupid ones. I don't really know, however (and I could link it), the one of the three melting skulls this guy had done was rendered really well but the guy himself looks like a sweet old grandfather. There's not a bone in his body (just the bones on his body) that fits this aesthetic. This was entirely not his style, so that's why I think it's the worst.

What's your favourite name ever? I dunno... Clarissa?

Are you a hat person? Used to be.

When was the last time you were totally grossed out? I was comparing public restroom stories with a restaurant worker recently and we both had some doozies.

Have you ever forgotten how to do something simple? Daily.

Are you ever jealous when you see couples or friends together? Yeah, yeah.

Has anyone ever approached you in the street and asked to take your picture? I was like 10 years old in the front yard when this guy drove up and said he was taking a picture of me for the paper. Okay, sure! Yeah, years later I realized it probably wasn't as innocent as that.

Have you ever disliked something just because most people liked it? This happens frequently. Overpopularity of a thing annoys me.

Does anything hurt on you right now? Inexplicably my right leg, in the muscle above the kneecap.

What song's stuck in your head? ...I heard about ten seconds of Aerosmith's "Don't Want To Miss A Thing" earlier and it's echoing in my head for some reason.

Did anyone ever tell you that earwigs crawl into your ear while you sleep? I believed that when I was a kid, and it scared me. The name "earwig" comes from "ear wiccan", as in a witch that gets into your head through your ear, so right there the species was damned by its very name. There are other insects with long pincers and long bodies like that so how did this one common bug get such a reputation?

[hoodielord]

Danny's room is crowded. Cujo and Billy had passed out on the end of Danny's bed. Jazz had taken the bean bag chair in the corner and John had taken a chair from the living room and shoved it next to Danny's bed. The room was quiet except for the slow but steady heartbeat from the monitor Jazz had insisted they hook up. Danny was healing fine but a bit slow.

 Billy hadn't known what to do so he sat and waited. The kid looked lost; his hero complex is probably nagging him because he can't do anything to help. 

Calling Jazz was the first thing John did when he was back in the house of mystery. Dealing with a hovering attentive sister was better than dealing with Jazz when she was kept out of the loop. 

Dealing with those two and Danny had been easy dealing with the league not so much. They would not stop messaging his bloody communicator so much that he wanted to throw it out the window. They were like teenagers in a group chat. Well some of them were. 

The really annoying ones are the bats. Batman and Red Robin had messaged asking for a report on Danny's condition. Nightwing had responded by saying “That's bat for, ‘how is the kid doing?’” Back Bat had sent him paragraphs of emoji which made his communicator buzz for a bloody half an hour. Few of the other Bats chimed in with either insults to his intelligence or threats of violence.

The rest of the league was barely any more bearable. Wonder Woman had messaged him about the “Little Warrior’s” condition and asked if there was anything that they needed. This was the only message he responded to.

“He’s healing a bit slow for him but he’s getting better. And rest a lot of rest.”

A few days later. Zatanna had showed up with a few boxes from the league. The Bats had given Danny and Jazz quite a few things. A few blankets A teal-colored one with flowers all over it and, of course, one covered in stars. Several things in the boxes had labels each with a message. There were a few medical books with a red sticky note covered in vines that read:

“We knows you gotta look after the little ghostie but don’t forget yourself too.”

And in a different handwriting:

“Take breaks when you need to kid you're not in this alone anymore.”

The sticky note was signed H.Q. and P.I. 

Two teddy bears, one with a stethoscope and a teal headband. The other one is a polar bear with an astronaut’s helmet. The bear dressed as a doctor had a teal stress ball with purple swirls on it. John had thought the bears were a little childish then he read the sticky notes.

“Not childish. Comfort.” Signed by Black Bat.

“You stress yourself out too much Jazz take time for yourself. Also, the teddy bears are for comfort. I helped decorate them!” Signed by Spoiler.

“Damn bats. Are we sure they’re not prophetic or some shit?”

Zatanna just shrugs with a smile on her face as she pulls out some of the meals that “Penny One” and apparently Red Hood had prepared with handwritten instructions on how to properly reheat them. 

John had gone back to shifting through more of the boxes when a loud squeak sounded from the box. He reached into the box and pulled out a squeaky toy with another note.

“Daniel and I had been working on Cujo’s training when he was last here in Gotham. When he is well I wish for them to return to Gotham.”

Signed Robin.

On the back of the note, is a small message from Nightwing  “ Robin’s not the best with expressing his compassion but I’ll tell you he rewrote this message like forty times till he decided on this one.” 

Oracle, Red Robin, and Signal had given Jazz and Danny tablets so they could work on schoolwork and listen to music. John knows that Danny had talked a lot about Signal and the music that they like. John had mentioned to Danny that he was once in a band to which Danny responded “Sure old man.” with a roll of his eyes. But John catches him listening to one of his old CDs later. Cheeky brat.

The gifts from the rest of the league had given them much of the same gifts; with scrolls of battle tactics from ancient Greece and several other cultures, Stars maps and charts from different planets, and an apple pie. 

John moved the food into the fridge and placed the scrolls and maps back into the box before taking it back into Danny’s room. He set the scrolls and maps on the workbench and the bookshelf. Jazz had to head back to classes but promised to be back later that afternoon so he placed her bear next to her old Einstein bear on the bean bag. The tablets were placed on the bed’s side table and the astronaut bear was placed next to Danny as he slept.  His heartbeat monitor had returned to a steadier pace, at least to him. Suddenly his communicator beeped.

“Damn it what now?”

The message read: “The Fentons have been arrested.”

Prompt idea dpxdc

Bad reveal Jack and Maddie Fenton contact the Justice League for help in the capture of Phantom, who killed/kidnapped their son.

Danny has been an associate of the Justice League Dark division for close to a year at that point, and they have been aware of both identities and his status as a Halfa nearly the entire time

[cassianandor]

Hyeri for InStyle Korea, November Issue ‘17   

[miracleonice87]

“You know his lap is also available as a seat, right?” with Mathew Barzal (feat. Matthew and Sydney Esiason Martin) - requested by my dearest @kerwritesthings

from the two year tumblrversary prompt list

a/n: I am fully aware that I've written a blurb with a v similar premise, but I'm a sucker for Syd and Marty meddling in their friends' love lives, so I give zero effs. hope y'all enjoy!

warnings: swearing, alcohol

_____

Sydney had lured you to the house tonight under the guise of picking her up for a dinner date, potentially one of your last before she gave birth to their second baby. When you pulled up the drive and spotted a blue and orange balloon arch outlining the front door, you were puzzled, but assumed Matt might be having some sort of pre-season team activity for the guys while you and Sydney were gone for the night.

You pushed open the door to the familiar sounds of Jax barking a few times before he realized who was here, and Winnie squealing as she ran toward you. 

“Hi, Winnie girl!” you squealed back in greeting, bending down to scoop up the little blonde beauty, push her hair back from her forehead, and give her a kiss, while she did her best to wrap her little arms around your neck as she excitedly babbled your name. 

“Oh, good, you’re here!” Sydney said from the kitchen, crossing the room in bare feet and a casual jeans outfit to give you a quick hug before nodding toward the spread of food on the countertops. “Will you give me a hand with the charcuterie board?”

“We’re not going out?” you asked, confused and feeling overdressed in your pale blue ruched bodycon dress meant for a night on the town. Meanwhile, Winnie wriggled down the front of you and ran back to her previous project, scribbling in a Bluey coloring book on the coffee table.

“Nope, sorry, can’t tonight, forgot to tell ya!” Sydney chirped rapidly, throwing her stunning smile back at you over her shoulder as she walked toward the fridge. “Team event tonight. Was hoping you could help me hostess?” 

You furrowed your brow as you followed her. “If it’s a team event then why am I invited?” you asked, unenthused.

Sydney shrugged as she retrieved more cheese from the fridge, but you didn’t miss the ornery look on her face. “I dunno, maybe because a certain center specifically asked me if you’d be here?” She finally made eye contact with you, bit her bottom lip, and extended her hands in a “surprise!” motion. 

You let your forehead fall against the pantry door. “Sydneyyy!” you whined. 

You could legit throw a fit right now. Syd was famous for this shit. 

There was nothing going on between you and Mat (or so you spent your days trying to convince yourself). It was all nervous glances across the table while out celebrating a big win with the group, and laughing a bit too loudly at the other’s jokes, and light touches on your back as he moved around you in a busy bar, and replying to one another’s Instagram stories with reactions and simple emojis… and mostly it was neither of you ever, ever finding the nerve to make a damn move. 

Yes, to be certain, your and Mat’s history was a short one – shorter than you (or Syd, or Matt, or even Mat himself, though unbeknownst to you) would prefer. So, maybe, because you always looked forward to seeing Mat, no matter how awkward the two of you could be around each other, you didn’t completely hate this idea after all, but you couldn’t let Syd know that. 

“Did you tell him I was going to be here tonight, or did he ask?” you inquired, folding your arms over your chest. “Big difference.”

Sydney shook her head furiously. “No, he seriously asked,” she insisted. “Trust me, I’d lie to you about a lot of things – for your own good, of course – but never that.”

You sighed, washed your hands, then turned back to an expectant Sydney. “Hand me the fucking olives,” you grumbled as she excitedly passed you the jar, a smile too smug for your liking on her lips. 

_____

Hours later as the sun set, casting an orange glow over the backyard, you surveyed the scene, which now seemed much less like an official team event and much more like a gathering of Matt and Sydney’s friends, all of whom happened to play hockey, and their significant others. You fell into neither of those categories (though it certainly wasn’t for Sydney’s lack of trying), but filled the role of “assistant hostess” well – directing new players to the bathroom, tidying the kitchen even as people filtered in and out, and refreshing drinks and bowls of snacks. It was on one of those trips to the kitchen and back to replenish the tortilla chip bowl and grab another drink when a five-beers-deep Matthew Martin decided to pipe up as he watched you scan the crowded patio for an empty chair.

“You know Mat’s lap is also available as a seat, right?”

You sucked your teeth and turned to glower at your best-friend-in-law. He was officially worse than his wife. 

After shooting him a glare that would kill a weaker man, you slowly turned back to spot an equally embarrassed Mathew Barzal, a flush creeping up his (thick, muscular… not that you noticed) neck under his (well-fitting, more attractive than it should be… not that you noticed) black t-shirt. 

However, Mat recovered much more quickly than you, and you assumed it had to be the liquid courage when he raised his brows, patted his knee, and gave you a half-shrug – an open invitation in front of all of his teammates and friends. 

Impressed by the bold move, his captain let out a wolf-whistle, though many of the guys were too lost in their own conversations or distracted by the loud music and yard games to notice, but you could certainly see Matt’s beaming smile out of the corner of your eye. 

And you didn’t know whether it was your own liquid courage, Mat’s invitation, or your own chutzpah, but you suddenly found your feet moving across the patio toward him, casting him your biggest and flirtiest smile, and patting his chiseled knee as you took your rightful place atop his massive quads. Your heart raced and your skin was warm, but you tried to play it cool, clearing your throat and asking, “So, what’d I miss, gentlemen?”

Anders, Matt, and Pelly, who was also nearby, tried their best to lift their jaws off the floor and regain their focus, shocked by your audacious actions. If they were honest, they could barely remember what they were talking about, and as you lifted your beer bottle to your lips with a smirk, you took pleasure in their bewilderment. 

Then, you heard a deep voice immediately behind you. “The Kadri signing,” Mat prompted. “You were talking about Naz going to Calgary.” 

Matt coughed slightly, nodding. “Uh, yeah, right, right… Yeah, I can’t believe it took him so long to…”

And after that, all that was said was lost on you, because all you could concentrate on was the gentle touch caressing your bare back for where your dress left plenty of skin on display. You angled yourself just slightly toward Mat to face him, and you wrinkled your nose flirtatiously.

“I’m glad you came over here,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Who would’ve known Marty’s meddling would actually do some good?”

You chuckled, resting a hand on his toned chest. “Yeah… he’s gonna take credit for this, but it’s about damn time one of us made a move, hmm?” you said, cocking your head. He nodded slowly, curling some hair behind your ear as he leaned up to kiss you. You were immediately so far gone, so lost in him, that you could just barely hear the catcalls from around the yard.

[thunderheadfred]

💥Bakugou HC's💥

Aged-up pro hero Katsuki for all of these. Some NSFW beneath the cut. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

General

He’s scary good at everything he tries. Every. Single. Fucking. Thing. It’s infuriating. Has zero patience when other people can’t immediately master a skill. Never let him teach you anything. Not that he’d offer, nerd.

He WILL offer, though. A lot. He can’t believe you still can’t Do That Thing. Tsh. Like THIS. You're gonna hurt yourself, Dummy.

But hold on. Of course you have unique skills of your own. You work hard to improve yourself. Trust me, he's the first person to notice. He doesn't praise anyone lightly, so when he raises his eyebrows and whispers he's impressed, your heart will go thermonuclear.

Perfect spelling and fully punctuated texts. Never uses abbreviations. Employs a grand total of four emojis, all of them angry faces. Constantly leaves you on read. He's busy, dammit.

Doesn’t smile or laugh in public (except sarcastically). His real smile is a crooked, fragile thing. Never make him feel self-conscious about it, or you might not see it again for weeks.

He does not talk about his private life to the press. Ever. Will K.O. rookie reporters who can't keep their big mouths shut.

HOweVER: he's intensely kind to his fans. There is a whole photographic sub-genre of little girls in cosplay hugging Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight like he's a Disney Princess.

Too smart for his own good. Emotionally hyper-vigilant. Overthinks every interaction to hell and back. Will act like he's not listening but actually hears every single word in a ten-block radius.

INSECURE AF. 110% convinced he will never be good enough. Terrified of his loved ones leaving him behind. Does he do anything to assuage his fears? Like... talk to anyone about it? Hell no. That would require admitting he has fears to begin with.

Seeing people upset makes him upset, especially if he doesn't know how to fix it.

The epitome of being mean because he cares. He genuinely does not seem to comprehend that monosyllabic grunts and lopsided shrugs are not actually that comforting.

Because he was such a brat growing up, he wants to make up for it now. Sort of. In his own way. Look, he's trying, okay?

He smells - so - good. Obscenely good. He doesn't wear cologne; are you joking? There's the burnt-sugar caramel candy smell of his quirk, for starters. And since he sweats deadly ammunition, he showers and wipes himself down almost constantly. He always smells clean. Like a fucking meadow.

Never got that growth spurt he was hoping for. He’s a short man - not even THAT short - but he has a Napoleon complex anyway. If you’re taller than him, the collars of your shirts will all be stretched out. He’s constantly dragging you down to his level. He will assert himself all the fucking time; the pissing contest is never-ending. Don’t wear tall shoes unless you want him to drag you around on a leash. If you’re shorter than him, that’s good. That’s very good. He likes that.

He’s an incredible cook, but everything he makes is a nuclear fire challenge. Adapt or starve.

- - - - -

Dating

Makes artisanal, nutritionally flawless bento lunches for both of you. When people assume his S.O. makes them, he gets fucking pissed. Damn right your co-workers are jealous of my cooking.

Your pet name is Dummy. Don’t like it? Fine. You can be dumbass.

There will be zero PDA in this relationship. His hands are shoved so deep in his pockets you can’t even try.

Intensely private with the press. But with his friends, he will brag about you nonstop. Bakugou Katsuki has the most talented and attractive and intelligent S.O., and anyone who doesn't recognize that is blind. Were you assholes even listening?

A mutual buddy definitely recorded one of these drunken brag-rants and sent it to you for safekeeping. Do not let Katsuki find out about it, unless you enjoy having an ash pile for a phone.

Gets jealous about everything, at least at the start. He calms down eventually. Kinda. He stops saying shit to you about it, anyway, because he learns to trust you. But anyone who so much as looks at you in a too-friendly manner will get the death stare of a lifetime.

He’ll throw all kinds of temper tantrums and the two of you will argue about every tiny fucking thing. He’ll scream out car windows, he’ll ball up his shirt and gnash on it. But he will never raise his voice at you. He’d rather die than make you feel unsafe.

Honestly, the constant bickering is really just... uhh... passionate communication. Eventually you both hash out the important things. You'll learn how to step around his landmines and actually make your points, and he'll learn to open up. A little.

Once you meet his mom, Katsuki starts to make a lot more sense. His family just... emotes like that. Eventually, you and his dad form a spousal support group consisting of exactly two lifetime members. He teaches you the Bakugou family semaphore you need to survive a long-term relationship.

Katsuki can dish it out but absolutely cannot take it. The only person who can level with him about serious issues without explosive fallout is his dad. Or, on a lucky day, Kirishima.

If you give him a legitimate criticism (even gently!) he will take it about as gracefully as a knife to the gut, because it confirms everything he hates about himself.

To your never-ending shock, you’ve made him cry. Yes, CRY! You monster! More than once! His lip gets all *trembly* and his eyes get all *watery* and all you want to do is hug him, but. No. He’ll storm out and wander around for a few hours before coming back with the problem perfectly solved.

He always takes your advice to heart. No, he will NOT talk about it, stop asking.

Gets mad if you don’t snuggle him on the regular. Will drag you into his lap with a pissy little grunt. There might be two seats on this couch but you will not be needing both of them.

Takes pictures of you while you sleep.

Takes even more pictures of you when you're awake but think he's out of the room.

He looks at all these pictures when he's away on high-stakes jobs. He gets all bleary eyed and sleeps in a salty puddle without you. NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW.

You don’t have to meet him at the door or anything, but when he says “I’m home,” you’d better answer fast. If he doesn’t know your precise location in 0.05 seconds, he will assume you’ve been kidnapped. He never checks the fridge for notes. Never assumes you've gone down to the konbini for a snack. No, it’s kidnapping every time.

A terrrrrrible bed partner. He goes to bed at senior citizen hours and will never fuck you after sundown. He snores SO loud. Runs hot and sweats through the sheets. Slaps and elbows you in his sleep and aggressively spoons you with his loud, sweaty body. You WILL want to suffocate him. Separate bedrooms aren’t such a horrible idea......

BUT HANG ON, because in the morning he transforms into an honest-to-god angel. He's half awake, his guard is non-existent. Morning Katsuki is a doting kissy-faced marshmallow man.

If you can wake up before the ass-crack of dawn, he will pamper the fuck out of you. You are royalty for one (1) hour only, and he is your bleary-eyed slave. You want a cuddlefuck? You got it. Hugs? Kisses? Take as many as you need. You want a perfect, fluffy, NON-SPICY omelette with a heart drawn in ketchup? Here it is, gorgeous.

Then he gets in the shower and the spell is broken.

- - - - -

💥bang BANG💥

Let’s get the obvious out of the way: this here is an ASS. MAN. He'll spank you with his quirk; doesn’t matter if you’ve been good or bad. Wants to see you wince when you sit down later.

Likes pounding you face down with a vice grip on your waist.

Unfortunately, even with all that said... he doesn't exactly have the feral beast sex drive you were expecting. He’s married to his work and has the fuddy-duddy habits of a once and future valedictorian. Only fucks you when he has the time and energy to fully dedicate himself to it.

But ohhhh. Shit. When it's time? It's TIME. The man will rush for nothing. Stamina for days. Making you cum as many times as possible is a point of pride. Yeah, you passed out once.

You’re gonna need those days off when he’s done with you.

That dick THICC.

Sends unsolicited dick pics. Only after you’ve been dating a good long while - he doesn't show that shit to just anyone. But yeah, don’t check your phone at work. He won't cum without you; those pictures and videos are time bombs. You better get home. Now.

Physically dominant as FUCK, but won’t verbally degrade you unless you ask. Well, let’s be honest. Unless you beg.

Praise him and reap the rewards. A long hard ego stroking will get him off more than touching his cock ever will.

Will grab your hair and fuck your throat. Will also stop immediately if you need him to.

The two of you have safe words and gestures. Even for vanilla stuff. He’s paranoid about scaring or hurting you. He insisted you both sign a color-coded ‘love contract’ that he meticulously formatted in a word processor. When you gave him guff about it, his blush was the darkest crimson you’d ever seen.

Coin-flip: he will sometimes be unbelievably gentle in bed. Doting and affectionate, taking perfect care of you. Like, it’s baffling. There’s no warning, the switch just flips. When you want him to be extra-rough and mean, he’ll sweetly worship you instead. For hours.

Bonus: he likes being penetrated. But of course he’s got a complex about that too. Super intense power bottom. You will never fuck him hard enough. He’d like to see you try. Hit his prostate just right and he might literally explode.

You'll live happily ever after but he will say he loves you out loud exactly once. Maybe. If you're lucky. And you're both about to die.

[teddy06writes]

could we have more sapnap x karl x quackity x reader maybe about how reader joins, or how the relationship is revealed, or angst, also is there a reason that anon asks are turned off? i mean it might just be me also cause i cant switch to anon, ik that hairbrush anon loves this blog and wants to request but they cant cause anon is turned off, (i know hairbrush anon irl so thats how ik this for some background context) sorry if this is rude

anon: “ Your karlnapity fanfics are sooooo good. I was wondering if you could make another one, it could be about literally anything and I’ll read it. Keep up the great work! “

sapnap x karl x quackity x reader

trigger warnings: swearing, mentions of panic attacks

premise: how you joined the Karlnapity poly cue

{also the anon thing was fixed once I got this ask}

“belp” talking

‘blep’ texting

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You didn’t meet them intentionally, far from, actually, you had only met Alex, the first of the boys you’d met, by pure chance.

Well, pure chance, and an asshole who didn’t look where he was going outside A hall.

~~

You had just emerged from your first class of the year, a debate class, with maybe 50 students total, and were immediately slammed into by some jerk who didn’t even stop at first.

You had fallen into someone, who after making sure you were stood up right began to cuss the guy out in Spanish.

“You got something to say to me, dick?” The guy had asked as he turned around.

“Yeah bitch! Why the hell did you push them?”

If you thought this dudes 5′ 9′’ ass wasn’t gonna square up to a huge football player you’d’ve been wrong.

“They were the one who didn’t fucking move, so don’t fucking start with me!”

“Bro you literally slammed into them! You could’ve fucking moved man!” He shoved the guys shoulder, “You didn’t have to take the asshole route, yet we’re still here.”

“Listen Dick, I don’t give a shit, they were in the fucking way.”

“Man your really looking for a fucking fight are you?” He shrugged off his back pack and let it drop to the ground.

The guys laughed, pushing up his sleeves, “I could take your scrawny ass any day, chicca.”

Before he had a chance to blink a fist had been launched toward his face, catching him right in the jaw.

He stumbled back, looking almost as surprised as the guy you’d tripped into, who was looking down at his own fist, clearly in pain.

“Oh you little bitch!” The jock growled, moving to punch him back.

Quickly you scooped up his bag, shoving it into his arms, “We gotta go!!” You shoved the guy, grabbing your saviors hand and tugging him along as you started to run.

As you dodged around campus, trying to lose the yell of the jock behind you the guy who you’d dragged with, offered, “I’m Alex.”

“(y/n),” You slowed to a stop, “I think we lost him.”

Alex nodded, wincing as he examined his knuckles.

You took his hand, checking over it carefully, “It’ll bruise hard, you might not have full dexterity for a while. That’s what you get for punching someone without preparing,” You chuckled, glancing around, “My dorm’s not more than five minutes away, if you don’t have another class to get too, we can go get you some ice.”

“That’d be good.” He winced.

After taking him back to your dorm and getting his hand iced, he disappeared, saying he was late to meet someone, and you rarely saw him again except for your debate class, where you hardly spoke.

~~ You’d met Nick not too long after, though this time, pure chance was more purely your friend George catching you sneaking out of a party you didn’t want to be at.

“Seriously (y/n)? It’s barley even been an hour!” The brit yelled.

“It’s way too loud in there,” You hissed, motioning to the frat house, “I can’t hardly think, let alone stand it.”

“George! Get back in here! Clay challenged someone to a drinking contest and it about to start!” Someone yelled from the house.

“Yeah, in a second Sapnap!” He called before turning back to you, “Stay a little while longer?”

“I don’t want to be here.” You growled, but he was already dragging you back towards the house, saying:

“Come on, it’ll be entertaining if he wins and if not, well, it’ll still be pretty funny.”

Sighing, you allowed yourself to be pulled back inside, following George through to where Clay stood across a counter from a curly dark haired man, and Niki, a woman you’d met a few weeks prior, quietly pouring shots.

“Now the only reason I’m letting you do this Wil, is cause I know you won’t be able to do more than three.” She muttered, sliding the shots between them.

George laughed, “This is gonna be great!”

You sighed, moving to stand back against one of the walls, next to a dirty blonde man, who said, “You don’t look to happy to be here.”

“Not a fan of the noise.” You muttered, rubbing at your forehead.

He nodded, “Makes sense, one of my boyfriends doesn’t like the noise either. I’m Nick.”

“Didn’t George just call you Sapnap? What is with people around here and having weird nicknames?” You shook your head with another sigh, “I’m (y/n).”

“I dunno. Half the people I know at this school have weird nicknames,” He began to point at various people around the room, “Dream, Fundy, Skeppy, Hbomb, Quackity’s around here somewhere. Hell I even know someone who calls himself ‘Technoblade’.”

“Sounds like a prick.” You chuckled.

Nick nodded, “Oh he is.”

You continued to talk for a while, watching as Wilbur tried to out drink Clay, and failing miserably not to laugh when he nearly fell down, totally wasted.

“Hey, uh I think we should head out. I feel bad leaving Kar...” Alex trailed off as he realized you were standing with Nick, “Hey, your uh, (y/n) right?”

“Yeah, Alex, you almost busted your knuckles trying to fight McAllen outside debate with Fenner.” You chuckled.

Nick turned to Alex, “You what?!”

“uhh...” he stuttered nervously.

“You told Karl you fell!”

“In my defense he pushed- no not even- he slammed into (y/n)!” Alex said desperately.

“He did, Alex was just defending me,” Alex grinned at your addition, “But...” his face fell, “This one also is essentially just an angry chihuahua.”

“Dude!”

Nick chuckled, “Their right. You are an angry chihuahua.”

Alex rolled his eyes, glancing at his phone, “We should go, Karl’s texting me angry emojis.”

Nick nodded, “It was nice to meet you (y/n).”

“You too.” You smiled, and then they were gone again.

~~

You didn’t meet Karl for almost a month after that, only encountering the man in the colorful sweater when you had been left sitting alone in the dining hall, after a late night study session.

Niki had left a few minutes earlier, but it was long enough that he’d assumed you’d been sitting alone.

“Oh hey, sorry I’m late!” He had called, just a hair too loud.

You blinked up at the mousy haired boy, confused for a moment, before motioning for him to sit down, “It’s okay.”

The few people still left in the hall barley paid attention, so you stifled a laugh, “I wasn’t waiting for someone, my friend just left actually.”

His face got red, “Oh, I- sorry- I’ll just leave then.”

He started to stand up but you held out a hand, “No- uh- you, can stay. I don’t mind.”

He grinned, “I’m Karl! Karl Jacobs!”

“I’m (y/n). Thank you for trying to save me from mild embarrassment.”

“It was nothin, just don’t think people should have to be alone.”

You giggled, “Knight in shining armor.”

That made Karl grin even more, giggling a bit as he asked, “Whatcha working on?”

“Oh, Niki and I were just studying for finals, it may be a few weeks away but I want to be ready.” You chuckled.

“Man, I’m glad I’m only taking one class this semester.”

“Lucky.” You sighed, tucking the last of your papers into folders and stowing them away in your bag, “No late night cram sessions for you then.”

“Nah, my boyfriends’ll rope me into helping them study.”

“Thats the price you pay.” You chuckled.

He nodded solemnly, “A price I am very willing to pay.”

“They sound like lucky guys.” You smiled wistfully, quietly wondering why all the cute guys you’d been meeting were dating, either other people, or each other.

Karl not noticing the almost bitterness in your voice chirped, “Yup!”

~~

“Come on! They’d love you!” Karl exclaimed.

You’d been becoming friends with Karl over the last few months, and now he was begging you to go and meet his partners.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” Karl was practically bouncing up and down, “Your like the best! I want my boys to meet you!”

You groaned, letting your head fall into your hands, “Fine.”

“Yay!” Karl giggled, tugging at your wrist, “Come on!”

You looked up from the table at him. “Right now?”

“Yeah, I was suppose to be meeting them at the library.”

Sighing you stood up, “I hate this.”

He smiled sympathetically, “Sorry.”

You slipped your bag over your shoulder, and followed him out of the dining hall towards the library, trying to ignore the stupid feeling in your stomach at his hand in yours.

Upon reaching the library Karl excitedly dragged you over to a table in the corner where your stomach dropped upon seeing who was sitting there.

“(y/n)?” Alex asked.

You chuckled, “Snapmap and Chihuahua boy, I didn’t realize this Karl was your Karl.”

Karl looked confused, looking back and forth between you and his boyfriends, “You guys know each other?”

“That one talked to me at a party when my friends all but ditched me,” You pointed at Nick, and then too Alex, “That one tried to fight someone who bumped into me.”

“Thats- you know what, I’m not gonna ask.” Karl said, plopping down next to Alex.

You sat down on the opposite side of the table next to Nick, “Karl you text in angry emojis?”

~~

Over the next few weeks Karl continued to drag you along to various study sessions, movie nights and other things you assumed would normally just be the three of them, making you confused heart even more confused.

It was strange that they willingly let you intrude on there dates, and any time you tried to bring it up with Karl he’d just brush it off, and if you mentioned it to Nick or Alex, they’d say something about how they were good with it cause Karl was.

And then one night, you were all piled up on the fire escape of the boys apartment building, Alex had just gotten back from a seminar, and was half curled on Nick’s lap, legs stretch across Karl, who was also leaning against Nick.

You quietly hummed a song you heard Wilbur playing, freezing as Karl tugged on your hand, pulling you closer to lean on him, Nick’s arm stretching just a bit farther to wrap around your waist as well, almost cementing you into the moment.

“I like this.” Karl murmured.

Alex nodded sleepily, and Nick looked at your over Karl’s head, “(y/n), uh- I guess we’ve been meaning to- uh- to ask-”

“He means, do- do you want to join this relationship?” Alex asked, cutting him off.

You blinked, surprised, and Karl quickly started talking in your silence, “You don’t have too, we just figured, you know, we, really like, you and- it- we think you like us-”

Cutting him off, you grabbed the sides of his face, quickly pressing your lips to his, and then pulling away, you leaned over to kiss Nick, and then Alex.

“I knew there was a reason you kept letting me in on your dates!”