#wow hang on a minute he's not ANNOYED...yet.

[damnbrosius]

"Ah, military." And there he was thinking that particular shade of orange just signaled a particularly creative cosplayer.

"I don't suppose you make your own food at all? A cook, a chef, a gourmet? Surely it's not all packaged fiber meals?"

“If I were on a road trip, it would inspire me to stop in at one of those diners, drive-ins, or dive bars. If they’re still open. The show did end like... five hundred years ago. Ish?” Grif shrugged. “I am working with a military budget, so my access to good kitchen supplies is mid. There is a limit to what I can get with those military requisition forms before someone starts asking questions.”

[peppertoastuniverse]

more than a late night snack – gojo satoru chapter 7: congee   

contents: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru & reader, ieri shoko & reader, extreme friendship, swearing, fluff, gojo being really whiny this chapter, gojo calls you babe.

summary:  a healthy satoru gojo was already annoying, but a sick satoru gojo is almost unbearable. shoko comes up with a plan, while you and gojo learn about the things that you have in common.

wc: 5.2k

previous chapter ll master list ll next chapter

“oh my god, gojo.” you deadpan, shaking your head. “cmon babe, answer the question.” he whines between a mouthful. you roll your eyes, abruptly moving to get up. ughhh. why did he have to tease you all the time? his dull eyes widen at the prospect of you leaving, “nononono, okay – okay, you don’t have to answer … just stay, please?”

ieri shrugs off her covers in a huff, irritation oozing from her restless body as her phone dings yet again. groaning as she got up, she snatches her phone from her desk, the brightness from the phone making her squint. she mashes the call button with disproportional aggression –  it was way too early for gojo’s bullshit, even for her.  “what the fuck do you want? do you know what time it is?” she spits out, hearing gojo’s familiar huff on the line.  “’was just textin’ you, boo! you didn’t have to call, that was your choice!” ieri rolls her eyes at this audacity, noting that his usual baritone sounded strange. “i cant sleep when all I hear is constant dinging, dude!” ieri deadpans, she hears gojo sneeze, her eyebrows raise. “why do you sound like that, satoru?”

“uhh, like what? handsome? hot? attracti–“  “no, you sound sick.”  “no im not, I never get sick.” he snaps, “if you just wanted to hear my voice, shoko –“

a mischievous smile full of realization stretches across ieri’s face, “oh shit – you’re sick aren’t you?” “don’t be an idiot, i’m not sick – i don’t get sick.” he grumbles.    “is a little cold knocking out the gojo satoru?” ieri teases, sitting back down on the side of her bed.  “i swear, you’ve been hanging out with me and suguru too much – “   “heh, were you up all night thinkin’ about your cute babe? is that why you got sick – ” her voice lights up with glee at the prospect of teasing gojo.    “hey!” gojo nearly shouts irritatingly, “you know that isn’t true, sto–“

“oh man so it is true, I fucking cant wait to tell suguru –”

“shokooooo!! just shut up and listen! i’m just tired is al–“ gojo interrupts himself with a coughing fit, in time with ieri’s snickering.  

 “okay, don’t come to class, gojo. you’re actually sick I can already tell.” ieri grimaces.

“aw, are you worried about lil ol’me?” he answers voice hoarse, sounding more and more congested by the minute.  she scoffs, “ugh gross, no. I just don’t want to get sick. stay away from me.” ieri hangs up before gojo could whine. she lies back into bed with a heavy sigh, a healthy satoru gojo was annoying, but a sick satoru gojo was diabolical. he was going to make this everyone’s problem.

gojo satoru: ur so rude to me, u need to fix that ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡) (5:11am)

ieri shoko: wow bitch after I was going to get you soup later?  (5:12am)

gojo satoru: ( ˶°ㅁ°) ! nvm u r my fav don’t tell sugu ily <3 <3 <3 (5:12am)

ieri shoko: see that’s what I thought go sleep now srsly (5:13am)

gojo satoru:   (⸝⸝⸝･ᯅ･⸝⸝⸝)◞♥︎ (5:14am)

ieri takes a screen shot of the text message, glow illuminating her tired face – oh this will come in handy someday. diving back into her plush mattress, ieri’s thoughts move back to gojo, confident that he was pouting miserably in his room. she shuts her eyes with an amused scoff at gojo’s dramatic antics. rolling over into a more comfortable position, she quickly conjures up a wicked plan before falling back to sleep with a grin on her face.

“really, suguru?” you moan as you watch him take some of the bok choy from his own bowl before placing it into yours. “I said that I was okay!” shooting geto a pout.  “stop being such a fucking–“

“hey, you literally just ate one piece.” he judgementally comments as he meets your challenging eyes, silently encouraging you eat more.

“I can serve myself!” you huff as you lean your chin on your closed fist.

“yeah, how are you gonna kick his ass tomorrow if you don’t eat enough?” ieri teases, eyes on her phone.

“I can pin him without it!” you mumble, catching geto’s amused head shake. you easily take a bite of the vegetable courtesy of the big mother hen seated next to you, playfully knocking your knee to his.  

geto really worries too much.

as you swallow the last bite of your bok choy, you look around the table, eyes settling briefly at gojo’s empty chair.

“satoru still feeling like shit?” geto asks catching your loaded gaze, to which ieri groans as she puts her phone down with a clatter. “idiot has a fever but doesn’t want to rest,” ieri says between a mouthful of rice, “he fucking woke me up at 5AM today!” while suguru sighs, mumbling “yeah sounds like him. when I brought him medicine a few hours ago, he was just playing games on his phone.” geto rolls his eyes. “ah shit – that reminds me, i actually should go pick him up some soup or something after this.” ieri sighs, drumming her nails on the kitchen table, “ughhhh yaga wants me at the morgue in 40 minutes though.” you wrinkles your nose, “I never know how you can eat and then go straight to doing… what you do.”

shoko shrugs nonchalantly, taking a bite of the sauteed pork. “mhm, you get used to it.”

“you’re still eating, though – I can go pick up it up? I have to grab something from the combini anyway.” you suggest.

“mhm? you sure?” ieri mumbles, still focused on her meal. “if you wait a couple of minutes I can go with you?” geto suggests. “nah suguru it’s fine, you’re still eating anyway and you have a mission in like 2 hours.” you say quickly taking out your phone to check the time. “what were you going to get for him, ieri?”

“oi! how many times do I have to tell you, it’s shoko!” she throws her crumpled napkin at you, earning her a sheepish smile from you.

old habits are hard to break. and you were stubborn.

though you haven’t been close to her for a long time, you liked ieri. she was outwardly straightforward, smart and determined. ieri had a bluntness to her that you found refreshing albeit a bit harsh at times. often balancing gojo’s playfulness with an iron fist, she would steamroll him and geto when their mischief got too far or more often than not, encourage it when she thought it would be entertaining to watch. like that last week where gojo and geto tried to steal all the clocks at the school, but ieri suggested instead that they turn back all the clocks in the school 2 hours back because she wanted to get more sleep. unsurprisingly she got what she wanted.

but inwardly, you knew ieri as being understanding with a kind forcefulness that you found charming. recently she got into the habit of pushing you to hang out with everyone when all you wanted to do was rot in bed. she’d complain that you were being a “boring old man” and that you should “start acting your age with them,” recently she would even arrive at your door with takoyaki and magazines promising a night new founded laughter. 

her friendship was coarser than geto’s, encouraging you to make mistakes with the background promise of helping you pick up the pieces while berating you for your stupidity. she was the type of person that would have your back but would yell at you if you were making a stupid decision– she fought for you even if that meant fighting against the moronic version of your past self.  friendship was generally a new thing that you were getting used to, but with ieri’s friendship you felt lighter.

“the congee with ginger and chicken broth or something. it’s good for his congestion.” she answers as you take out your phone to type in a note. ieri’s eye catches the silvery gleam of your phone charm dangling from your hands, a knowing smile reaches her lips.

“y’sure? I won’t be that much long – “ geto starts before shutting up immediately as ieri’s foot violently wacks into his shin under the table, earning a repressed grunt.

 “... you good, suguru?” you ask, settling your phone down on the kitchen table. you meet his violet eyes, eyebrow cocked.

“he’s fine!” ieri answers sweetly. geto’s eyes narrow at ieri before she meets his questioning gaze in exasperation. oh my god, suguru – look at the charm! large light brown eyes directing his annoyed gaze to the table. looking at your phone adorned with a familiar silver star, his sly mouth hides the beginning of a shit eating grin, understanding immediately colouring his features. ah, I see.

stretching your neck to the left, you get up with a huff. the chair behind you slightly screeching as you move to collect your dirty dishes and wash them in sink.

“alright, I’ll see you guys later then.” you add brightly, whiping your hands before glancing down your phone screen opened gojo’s contact. quickly slapping your phone closed.

“be safe later, suguru,” you say patting his shoulder, catching his reassuring grin before walking out of the room.

“shoko, that fucking hurt.” geto hisses dramatically after ensuring that you’ve left. his chair moving back with a screech as he rubs his shin, shooting ieri a questioning look. “do you keep rocks in your shoes or something, god.”

ieri sighs. “you know what’s more painful? watching those two idiots! ugh, they need to figure their shit out.” ieri groans reaching across the table to steal a sauteed carrot out of geto’s bowl.

he chuckles, a warm sound reverberating around the corners of the room. “knowing them though, they probably don’t fully know it themselves.”

“yeah, fucking six eyes my ass.” shoko grumbles, taking an aggressive bite out of some broccoli. geto picks out some of the vegetables from of his bowl, chopsticks moving them easily into ieri’s. “give them some time.” ieri takes out her phone to type out a quick message to gojo.

ieri shoko:  you can thank me later  (5:43pm) gojo satoru: for what? ( •̀ - •́ ) FOR WHAT? ????  shokoooooooooo  (5:45pm)

you shrug your long scarf off with a sigh, juggling the bulging plastic bag in hand. your rosy cheeks sting from the cold, you huff to keep your hair out of your face. you sigh before knocking on gojo’s door gently. “gojo?” you call out, knocking louder. foot now tapping impatiently, rolling your eyes “gojo! dude, I brought you foo– you know what, i’m coming in,“ turning the handle, your eyes widen at the sight before you.

gojo was sprawled out diagonally on his bed, limbs falling in different directions like he had just fallen from the sky. his dark blue comforter half on him, an arm propped up cover half his face, dark glasses discarded somewhere, offending eyes shut tight, eyebrows scrunched up sadly. the cold sunlight outside, streaming in from his half-opened window illuminates gojo’s white hair, the messiest you’ve ever seen it. he looked like pathetic fallen mop.  

“gojo?” you whisper, moving deeper into his room, his foot twitches at his name. placing your scarf and plastic bag on his messy desk filled with volumes of manga, stray pens, packs of opened digimon cards and this week’s half finished homework. if you looked closer you saw that he had some rather impressive doodles of curse -hybrid yaga on it and what you thought was a fox version of geto. on the corner of the desk was a small bottle of cold medicine and a box of tissues, probably evidence of geto’s visit earlier in the day.

“gojo..? hey?” you hesitantly move closer to his still figure, the rise and fall of his chest catches your eye. you hated the break the peace, but he had to eat so you gently shook his shoulder.

“mhmmm, hey babe…” he mumbles voice deep and scratchy, blue eyes squinting at you, still tinged in sleep.

“i brought you something to eat, have some before it’s gets cold.” he rolls over onto his front with a groan, speaking into the pillow. you sigh, ill prepared for an even whinier gojo. “I cant understand you when you’re mumbling.” “mmprfff don’t wanna. s’too bright, hurts my head.”

you move across the room to close the window and shut his blinds, “yeah dumbass, the blind are open,” you scoff. moving back to his desk, you rustle through the plastic bag of food, pleased to see that the congee was still hot. retrieving a spoon, a bottle of hot green tea and some napkins as you approach gojo’s bed with purpose.

“don’t be mean to me – im dying.” he hoarsely whines, sniffing.  “you’re not dying, don’t be a drama queen.”

he sneezes loudly, shaking his frame.  “alright, can just sit up? you’ll feel so much better after you eat...”

“m’not hungry.” he plops back into bed, turning his back to you, shrugging his comforter over himself to counter his slight shivering.

you sigh heavily, small hands rubbing your eyes, “i’m not feeding you, c’mon.”

he mumbles noncommittally – a strangled noise between a whine and a grunt– he dramatically adjusts his thick comforter around his strong shoulders. you narrowed your eyes to take in gojo’s appearance - he really didn’t look so good. he was paler than usual, his usual rosey cheeks void of colour, his messy hair, slightly sticking to his clammy forehead.

“gojo, please?” you ask, voice tilting up. “you have to help yourself too, y’know?” you add quietly, a strange softness in your tone that he barely recognizes. turning his head he meets your eyes and for a second you see his eyes shine a little brighter.

he sighs, moving up to lean his back against the headboard, legs crossed, pouting up at you, his hair ruffled like a sad cockatiel. you turn around quickly to hide your giggle at his childish expression and helpless state, instead busying your hands with the plastic bag.

“careful,” you mumble as you place the plastic bowl of congee into his clammy hands, dipping the spoon into it. “it’s hot.” he murmurs his thanks with a sniffle, allowing the warmth of the plastic bowl to ease his discomfort in his body. the fact that you were here – in his room – was a big comfort that he couldn’t deny.

after you watch him carefully swallow a few spoonfuls in approval, you look at him with a frown on your face. “you know why you got sick? because you didn’t wear a warm enough coat in sapporo.” you nag.

he weakly grins “yeah, because I was warming you up on the floor, maybe next time it should be the other way around, eh?” you breathe in sharply, cheeks burning at the memory of you how woke up next to gojo in your hotel room in sapporo last week. his soft breathing comforting you, his right arm was out stretched welcoming your smaller frame as you settled comfortably by his side. he was warm but your cheeks burned even hotter when you remembered gojo’s yelp as you accidentally smacked in the face in surprise as you struggled to create some distance. Gojo was too close for your liking. you sighed in relief as your alarm you had set on your phone went off, a loud disturbance snapping you back to reality and saving yourself from the awkward discussion. you had hoped he wouldn’t bring it up again.  “i’d rather swallow a curse.”  you deadpan, shuffling your feet, crossing your arms across your chest.

“even like that super ugly one that suguru swallowed?”

“i’d swallow the ugliest curse.”  you retort immediately. gojo whines your name as he shoots you a dirty look in exchange for your too proud grin. “really, babe? that’s so rude. …what about that slimy one last week?” “you mean that gross slug thing that ieri said looked like you?” you snicker. he huffs, “it did not look like me! that thing had like 6 weird humps.”

“those weird humps were probably the reason why suguru threw up for like 2 days after.” “heh, he said it was one of the worst tasting. ‘member how he complained that it tasted so bad for only a second grade? then he ate all my melon gummies after.” you laugh at the memory of geto ferally tearing open the gummies and pouring them into his mouth to gojo’s incredulous’ gawking. “hey,” he sniffs. gojo pats the to the side of his bed, a silent invitation to sit. “you’re making me nervous just standing there, grumps.” he croaks.

you hesitate, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “I swear gojo.. if you get me sick – “

“i wont!” he whines. “god, babe. cut me some slack.” gojo pouts. usually gojo’s dramatic pouts had no effect on you, you’ve seen them time and time again, his pouts almost a permeant fixture on his face. it’s efficiency fading with it’s increasing frequency.  but this time coupled with his low energy and his pale face emphasizing the dark rings around his eyes - you have the decency to feel a little bad.

you gingerly sit on the side of his bed, careful to not jostle his dinner too much. you watch gojo grab the spoon and gently blows on the rice porridge before bringing it to his lips.

 “… thanks.” he says meeting your eyes as he stirs around the congee with his spoon.

“hm?”

“for this,” he motions at his bowl of still hot soup.

 “s’okay. im only here because ier – uh shoko asked.”

he drops the spoon dramatically. “what, so you’re saying that you don’t care about me?” he coughs, tone sharp and wounded. “oh my god, gojo.” you deadpan, shaking your head.

“cmon babe, answer the question.” he whines between a mouthful. you roll your eyes, abruptly moving to get up. ughhh. why did he have to tease you all the time? his dull eyes widen at the prospect of you leaving, “nononono, okay – okay,  you don’t have to answer … just stay, please?”

you weren’t used to gojo asking you for things so sincerely. he must feel terrible to be this open with you. you study his face, perhaps you would be merciful today.

“you don’t really shut up, even when youre sick, eh?” you grumble.

gojo visibly brightens when you flop back down beside him onto his bed, lying on your back stretching out slightly with a groan. “nah not really, even when I was a kid.” he coughs.

“…did your servants take care of you when you got sick?”  you mention casually, picking at your nails. “mhm yeah, but I never really got sick that often.” he says thoughtfully. “they made sure I was always healthy, I had to take those shitty vitamins all the time. something about how important it was to train and fully harness the gifts given to you blah blah blah…”  

“yeah but when you did I bet everyone knew about it.” “what can I say? i’m kind of a big deal.”  

“more like a big pain in the ass.” he scoffs, placing his half full bowl of soup on his beside table. blinking slowly.

 “heh, I know you like this as–“

 “hey. finish your food. i walked in the cold to get that for you!” craning your neck to see how much he’s eaten.

“m’full.” “gojo. ive seen you eat like 6 burgers in one sitting, you can’t possibly be full.”  “don’t want it. i feel bad.” he whines softly, laboured breath, the mattress jostling as he lies down beside you.

you prod his shoulder, sighing. “at least take your medicine.”  “don’t want it. tastes gross.” he mumbles turning his back on you one more, shrugging his head into his shoulders as if to hide from you.

“just a few more bites –“ “nuh uh.” he buries himself in his comforter, moving it over top of his head.

you palm your forehead. you had to be patient. gojo was sick, he couldn’t help it, right?

“if you take it… I’ll give you a surprise.” you try, lips slightly moving up in approval as the blankets shift, his ears perking up. “… a surprise?”

“mhm. a good one.” gojo’s imagination runs rampant. he was never one for material objects, he got whatever he wanted when he was young. whatever he asked for - even mentioned in passing - it would magically appear the next day. but this was different. this was something from you. something with him in mind, whatever it was he knew that he would cherish it, pin it up on his wall so he could look at it every day if he could.  gojo knew you were thoughtful, he’d see the way you listened to ieri offhandedly mention her coffee order at break only for you to arrive to class with her perfectly made coffee the next week. gojo had recalled the time geto had mentioned that you had packed some of geto’s favourite homemade umeboshi onigiri for a mission with the excuse of “you always forget to pack lunch on early missions and I already had the ingredients.” gojo didn’t even know that geto liked umeboshi onigri. you were a deadly combination of quietly thoughtful and observant, but he noticed that you strangely went out of your way to refuse anything in return. perhaps his surprise would be a slice of cake or, maybe a pack of digimon cards! or maybe a promise to accompany him to jinbocho get some manga with him, something he’s been nagging you to do for weeks. but if he was being honest, he fostered a silly fragile hope that the surprise could maybe, just possibly be a soft brush of your lips on his cheek -  “take it or leave it. it’s a really good one, i promise.” promise? those are big words coming from you. you were never one threw around words so carelessly.

sensing victory in his hesitation, you move to get the medicine on his messy desk that geto had left there. shaking the pills playful, you glance at his hopeful face. sighing, he sticks out his hands as you cheekily deposit 2 pills into his large palm. he swallows the offending antidote, while you hand him the bottle of green tea to wash it down.

“now, where’s my surprise?” he says as you lie back into his messy bed.   “stick out your hand.”

obediently, he quickly reaches his hand out.

you smack you’re palms against his, in a shitty high five. you laugh in gojo’s face of betrayal. “ah, aren’t you the luckiest guy in japan, not everyone gets one of those from me.” but satoru gojo was a sore loser, he was always going to force your hand. he easily loops his fingers through yours, hands settling on top of the covers. your eyes widening ever so slightly at the sudden movement.

“so stingy with me, babe.” he comments under his breath. still holding your hand gently, his thumb moving back and forth on the back of your hand. he was warm, warmer than usual – maybe his fever was returning.

almost instantly you snatch your hand back, your senses coming back to you, mumbling something about how he was infected. in the warm lighting of his room, he relishes in the slight blush decorating your cheeks, his hazy grin shining the brightest of all. you frown lightly as gojo usual’s soft triumphant laugher came out as wheezy huffs. he sounded like he was getting worse.

crossing your arms across your chest, you turn slightly away of him as you take in your surroundings, trying to focus anywhere but the irritating boy beside you. it was your first time in gojo’s room. it was neater than you had expected albeit your expectations weren’t high. he had a shelf full of volumes of mostly shonen manga – but your eyes catch a few familiar romance manga titles pushed to the very edge of the shelf –  spines bent and well read. he had a comfortable looking chair piled with spare uniforms and that light blue hoodie you remembered he wore in sapporo.  he had a small tv in the corner hooked up to a game cube, multiple game covers stacked in a pile, probably where him and geto spent most of their time. despite all of the gojo’s little toys, his room was almost bare of any personal touches, no letters from home or photographs of the gojo estate or with his parents.

“was this taken at the beginning of the year?” you ask, eyes landing on a the sole photograph in his room: a photo of shoko, geto and gojo haphazardly pinned above his desk. “yeah, I think maybe 4 months before ya arrived? we really need to do an updated version with you in it too.” he murmurs, voice muffled by his arm covering his closed eyes. humming you take in the photograph, your eyes dart to  geto to the left, his sleek eyes closed with a soft grin on his face, head tilted towards a much shorter ieri. you almost laugh as you see that part of gojo’s head was cut off due to his height and probably fact that ieri was taking the photo, her smile bright, brown eyes sparkling. on the left gojo had his arms around geto while his right-hand flashes a peace sign as his wild smile echoes his slightly longer messy white hair blowing in the gentle breeze, his dark glasses perched on his face. this was probably taken around early summer last year judging by the lush green trees in the background. they looked so happy despite knowing each other for only a few months. it was strange to you how they could be so close in such a short amount of time. “…it’s weird isn’t it?” he asks, eyes still closed.

“hm? what is?” “having friends.”

it was almost irritating at how easily gojo could catch you off guard, always two steps in front of you. his reputation as the strongest shining true.  you turn your head to meet his tired half opened eyes. “.. yeah, it – it is.” “I had to get used to it too, but it’s fun though, right?” he grins at you, “suguru hated me in the beginning.” “suguru?” you laugh incredulously. “yeah he was so fucking particular about the stupidest shit. i got along better with shoko initially – she was more straightforward and she let me have her pineapple buns in the morning.”

“it’s probably because you’re cocky and annoying,” his eyes full openly your scalding comments.

“hey, I’m not an–“ “ – and you always get him in trouble.” you add thoughtfully.

“me?! he’s the one who comes up with half of the plans! laxatives in yaga’s coffee? suguru! the random evacuation last week because of flooding on the second floor? not me - suguru!”  he starts to chuckle but it turns into a cough, he settles into lie on his side to see your face better. “gotta admit, those were good though.”

“‘member when ya first arrived and no one was allowed to be left alone of the cursed weapons shed? yeah, exactly. not me! baby’s not so innocent, he definitely has some evil ideas, babe.” he sniffs, adjusting the covers to cover himself better.  

you snicker, that sounded right to you. you could see geto’s chaotic streak when he sparred with you, often yelling out random things to catch you off guard and annoyingly they worked. while geto was sly about his mischief, quietly fostering chaotic ideas and plans, gojo was boisterous about his chaos, wearing it proudly on his chest – they really did compliment each other well.

“sure, gojo –  but you’re the one who encourages his ideas.”

he pouts, but before he could retort he feels you shift closer to him to creep your hand onto his forehead, the gesture causing gojo’s heart to beat erratically.

“you’re really warm, dude.” gojo has to quickly swallow the purr that threatens to escape his tongue, as your hands brush his bangs out of the way, sweeping his scalp gently. with your soft skin tingling on his, he finds that he’s disappointed that your touch retreats too quickly.

“yeah, you look like shit,” you tilt your head back to get a better look at his flushing face, “you’re really red, are you feeling okay? ” you say, eyebrows furrowed, “do you want me to get you more tea or something?” propping yourself up on your elbow. with his eyes half closed he shakes his head softly, “nah, m’okay.” “then fully close your eyes, dude. try and get some rest. your body clearly needs it.” “don’t wanna. s’too boring.” you tsk at his at his stubbornness, noting that he was already drifting off.

he's so fucking stubborn.

he falls asleep gently and then all at once.  if you were held at gunpoint and you had to choose your favourite version of gojo it would be of the current one lying in bed.  in the daytime, gojo was constantly vibrating with excitement, a never-ending flow of energy overflowing from his over the top presence. you could sense his cursed energy if he was within a 10-foot radius. it was blinding and overwhelming, easily engulfing you, it’s strength powerful and overbearing – just like him. gojo. but here in his room, he was quiet and free from his cocky smile and smart tongue. in this light he was bathed in a gentleness that seemed entirely out of place with the honoured one. you thought it was almost selfish that you preferred him this way, softer, unguarded – weak. even gods have an off day, you suppose.  but lying on his bed while he felt so unwell, you couldn’t help but see him for what he really was – just a boy. a teenager who chattered about his favourite foods, complained about homework and wanted to hang out with his friends. satoru. this realization felt heavy, being with him in this moment, there was an unfamiliar pull you didn’t understand. Lying beside him drowning in his scent as you see his unguarded slow breathing, you’re more aware of his memories surrounding you, enclosing you in this space. to distract yourself, you decide to tidy up his room.

careful not to wake him for a second time today, you roll off his bed. collecting his container his half eaten food, you place the barely touched bottle of green tea on his bedside table beside the bottle of pills. finding his glasses on the floor you place them on his desk as you plug his phone in to charge, softly playing with the silver beads of his phone charm. after clearing his desk, you turn to adjust his comforter softly. gently you raise his blanket to tuck him into bed, ensuring that all his gangly limbs were covered. your eye catches gojo’s soft sleeping face, he way his lip juts out slightly in his slumber mouth slightly open, his fair eyebrows scrunching like he was thinking about something. did he dream? you wondered what he could possibly dream of when he had the world at his fingertips. you hoped that if he did dream, they were peaceful ones. you hesitantly reach out to touch his cheek, convincing yourself that you were just checking his fever. you were relieved that he wasn’t as warm as he was did before, silently enjoying the way his cheek felt on your palm. “get better soon, gojo.” you whisper, watching his face relaxing at your touch. sighing, you quickly retreat your disobedient hand as you move to turn off his lamp. quiet strides to move across his room before shutting his door gently. you were already halfway into your room when you laugh softly in realization:  you did care about satoru gojo. when did that happen?

snackies!tags: @starmapz @ghost-buddies

a/n: all hail queen shoko!!! i'm so glad to finally get to write her. this chapter had some intense friendship moments that were fun to write. hope ya'll enjoyed this thick juicy chapter - head image credit: Toradora! dividers from: @/adornedwithlight

[cottonlemonade]

Strawberry Lotion

words: 546 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.

pairing: aged up Osamu x chubby!Reader (feat. the Inferior Twin (affectionate))

genre: suggestive fluff, established relationship

warnings: mdni, mild suggestiveness

You groaned when you slid the curtain to the side to find a brilliantly sunny day.

Your boyfriend Osamu, still sitting in bed, looked up from his phone with a questioning head tilt.

"It's a dress day. Ugh, I don't wanna shave my legs.", you pouted. Throwing your head back dramatically you shuffled to the bathroom.

Before closing the door, Osamu slipped in as well.

"Uhm.", you started tentatively, "This isn't usually a group activity, babe."

"Yeah I know, but I'm curious how girls shave. I've only had sneak peaks in razor ads, ya know?"

You sighed. "God, you hide it well, but you're an idiot."

Sitting on the corner of his bathtub, with your legs under the faucet you began the tedious process of removing the new stubble.

"Huh. That's a surprisin’ amount of acrobatics."

"It's just annoying cause it's not a 2 minute thing. It takes ages to get the whole leg and your skin gets all irritated and stuff. The only good thing is that my lotion smells like strawberries." (That and the feeling of rubbing your silky legs together like a cricket.)

Osamu perked up, knowing the one you‘re talking about. "Ya got it with ya?", he asked excitedly.

You nodded, resuming your task, feeling a little weird how he was staring at you. This wasn’t exactly the flattering image you wanted him to keep in his mind for a rainy day. When he didn��t say anything else, you look up to find him with a wide smile of delighted anticipation.

"Guys.", an impatient knock and Atsumu‘s voice came through the door. "Sorry to interrupt, but will ya be done soon? There are other people livin’ here, too, Samu!"

"All done. One second, Tsumu!", you called.

Osamu wiggled his eyebrows suggestively when he passed his brother in the doorway heading back to his bedroom.

You rummaged in your bag for the lotion, taking out the small red tub.

"Can I do it?", Osamu offered, his voice filled with eagerness.

Swallowing a sarcastic reply, you just shrugged and sat back at the foot of the bed. Your boyfriend knelt down in front of you and set your foot on his thigh. Taking a generous dollop of lotion he began to massage your leg, setting kisses on the now smooth skin before covering it in the soothing light pink cream.

"Damn, ya smell so good." He winked and genuinely had to chew his lip to stop himself from parting your legs for him to dive between them, grabbing at your soft tummy. He was actually just about to ask if you wouldn‘t mind taking off your sleeping shorts so he “could get the whole leg“ when -

"What’re ya doin’?", Atsumu asked, confused, standing yet again in the open door, toothbrush hanging in his mouth.

"Makin’ a baby." Osamu deadpanned, not even looking at the blonde and resumed his work with great concentration.

"Wow, that smells real good."

"I know right, it even tastes like strawberry." The grey-haired twin held out the lotion tub and Atsumu stepped closer to sniff it quizzically.

“Really?“

“Sam-“

Your boyfriend gave your thigh a quick squeeze and winked as he watched with barely suppressed glee how his brother dipped a finger into the tub with the very non-edible lotion.

[2knightt]

「 you the cutest jailbird i ever did see!」

IN WHICH—you’re literally mickey milkovich!♡ ໋֢ 👒✧

🍵ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 👒 notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ this is platonic. and if you haven’t seen shameless just imagine a modern, stinky dallas. also MARRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS!!!

you met them while running from the cops. sure—it was completely your fault and you do deserve to be thrown into the cooler. but you just got out! can’t a person want just a few more minutes of peace?

as soon as you heard those sirens, you jumped off the guys you and your cousins were jumping and just started running. those two idiots already got caught, you just kept on running.

you heard that the curtis house doesn’t ever lock their door—stupid. you’d never do that, not when people like you run around this city!

the sirens got closer, and without thinking, you jumped their fence. as your feet touched the ground, you hoped to god that they weren’t home. or that dallas winston wasn’t there.

you rushed to the door, swinging in open before hiding beside their couch that sat in front of the window. peeking your head up, you watched as the cop car slowed down before speeding back off.

a grin grew on your face as you watched the cops go in the other direction.

“fuckin’ idiots.”

“wow, y/n getting chased by the cops. what is it, the 30th time this week?”

you’ve had unfortunate run-ins with dallas. but you thought his voice was more annoying now than when you and your cousins jumped him for trying to hit on your sister.

you’d recognize that disgusting new york accent from anywhere. you sighed, turning your head to face him as he stood above you, hands in his jean pockets.

dallas had a stupid grin on his face as who, you think is soda, comes rushing beside him. his eyes showed worry, but his grin made him look interested in you.

“shoot, what happened to you?”

“soda—this is y/n. what ain’t they done is a better question.”

you rolled your eyes, holding back from socking him in the jaw. you turned your head to face soda, standing up from your position. rubbing your neck, you hung your head low.

“tough shit, man. bunch of assholes—you know.”

suddenly, someone with cake smeared all over his fingers and who smelled like oil popped up out of nowhere. ‘steve’ was written on the chest of his ripped up work uniform.

“that can mean a lotta things. what kinda tough shit?”

‘jesus, the curtis group asks a lot of questions.’ you thought to yourself, a lip raised. dallas kicked the leg of the couch beside you, causing you to whip your head up after avoiding eye contact. sodapop smacked dallas’ shoulder, telling him off.

“answer ‘em, y/n.”

dallas demanded, saying your name is a singing tone.

“…me and my cousin’s has jumped a guy. it ain’t nothin’ bad like stabbing a kid with a blade.”

you mumbled, dusting yourself off, you heard snickers leave steve and soda’s throats. soda grinned, ear to ear as he ushered you to sit down at a table. as he did so—he kept on asking you a bunch of jumbled questions due to how fast he’s talking.

four boys sat there, staring at the situation that had just unfolded. they both looked younger than everyone else did, the two older ones standing out like sore thumbs. one was finishing his plate, the other one downing a bottle of beer.

soda sat you down, steve rushing behind the both of you. either of them sat beside you, smiles on their face.

“what’d the guy do?”

“did you beat ‘em black and blue?”

“what’d you use?”

with that, you found yourself hanging around the two of them more. sodapop and steve found your company fun. sure, you were like dallas, but different in so many ways.

you were so comforting to be around, yet you always had a scowl. they loved having you around, causing the gang to hang out with you too.

you honestly became a reoccurring person in the gang—to the point where people would ask where you were if you weren’t around them.

you’d just walk into the curtis house and make yourself comfortable. your house wasn’t exactly the definition of ‘ideal.’ the old man wasn’t the kindest to you, your sister—or anyone for that matter.

he’d frequently take his anger out on you and smack you ‘til you’re every colour under the sun after he heard you’d been foolin’ around with some chum around the block. it wasn’t even true—but your cries always fell to deaf ears when it came to that alcoholic.

it’s not like it was a secret either. every person on the east side could hear the arguing from your house—even the front door slam shut. that’s when the people would know you’d be huddled up on the curtis’ couch.

“y/n—breakfast.”

soda’d nudge you gently—talking in a hushed voice. the smell of bacon filled your nostrils, a sigh leaving your lips as it hit you that he was the one cooking. you aren’t exactly the biggest fan of his rather odd choices of how he makes his food.

but goddamnit you can fake it for him. if you can lie to the cops, you can lie to one of your greatest friends.

just like how you can lie to the investigators trying to find dallas winston.

“you know this kid?”

“never seen ‘em in my life. lay off now, assholes.”

you’d mumble, walking past them, making sure you hit their shoulders as hard as you could. you always got a kick out of hurting those pigs as you’d call ‘em.

which is what caused dallas winston goin’ MIA. you had seen dallas winston getting knocked down by the police after a long chase.

even though you can’t stand that new yorkian—you do love fighting. you tried to walk as quietly as you could up to them before making yourself known.

“hey, man!”

you shouted, causing their heads to turn. when they saw you—their eyes immediately flashed a look of hatred. they obviously knew who you were, and if they didn’t know, they’d know after you socked one in the jaw.

all attention on dallas turned to you—all of them going after you. until dallas also landed a clean hit on one. with the impact of the officer falling on the ground—your feet started moving on your own.

you cackled, hearing dallas laugh along with you, running beside you. the rush that washed over you two was indescribable—the adrenaline was great.

this isn’t the first time you’ve been on the run, and it’s not like you haven’t been caught. one time you got caught—your bail was low. but too high for you. you were offered one call and the first person that came to mind would surely rip off your head.

‘worth a shot,’ you thought to yourself, dialling the numbers with the phone to your ear, a cop hovering over you.

“hello?”

“darrel? it’s y/n.”

“goddammit, y/n. what the hell did you do this time?”

“nothin’! i-i just need you to come and bail me. it’s only 50 cents, darry.”

“you’re never gonna hear the end of it, you damned jail bird. i’ll be there soon.”

with that—you heard a click on the end of the line. you wanted to defend yourself, but hearing him call you a jail bird gave you more pride than you’ve felt in a long time.

of course, when he did bail you out, any feeling you had of pride evaporated. as soon as you entered the backseat, you could feel the rage from darry.

“what the hell did you do? it’s 11PM. ponyboy and soda’s in bed��and i was getting ready! 11PM, y/n!”

“holy fuck, darry! stop acting like i killed a guy! it was just a grab n’ run!��

“y/n—is it too hard to ask that you try to stay safe? just once, that’s all i ask!”

“oh my god, darry! you aren’t my fucking father!”

“guess what’s happening. you’re coming to my house and spending the nights there. the second i hear that you’re runnin’ from the cops i’m contesting against you in court!”

the rest of the ride was in silence, it being broken up by the occasional blinker. when he pulled onto the side of the road, parking his truck in front of the house, you sat there.

stubborn is what people thought of you—and you sure as hell were. darry got out, expecting you to follow. he stood in front of the gate, arms crossed as you stared off into space.

the door opened—darry quickly grabbing you. he carried you like a baby, against your very loud protests.

soda opened the door, snickering as he sees the situation you’re in. ponyboy was sitting on darrys chair, playing with the tab of a pepsi can. once he seen darry step in, you in arms, he shot up from where he sat.

“where were you? what happened?”

“yeah, jail bird. what happened?”

you heard the two younger brothers ask, one sounding more mocking than the other. darry placed you on the couch, swiftly throwing a blanket over you.

you’d been in this situation before, the memories flooding back to you as you felt yourself drift off into sleep.

expect you weren’t the one being carried. you had carried johnny from the lot, put him on your back. it was a few days after he’d been jumped real bad.

you were out of the loop when it came to who jumped who. you seen johnny asleep in the lot. dried blood on his jacket and face. bruises were everywhere on his body. you felt bad.

you always liked johnnycakes. he understood you in a way. as you carried him on your back—you could only thing of the similarities between you two.

you both had rough home lives, you both always found yourself trying to keep everything together. he used to be so tough but turned quiet—you had always been tough and never expected to change.

lost in your thoughts—you got to the curtis house faster than expected. you quietly walked up the stairs, opening the door, avoiding the creaky floorboards.

you placed johnny on the couch, taking a silent vow to beat whoever did this to him even worse.

and you always kept your word.

robert sheldon was the guy you and your cousins had tracked down, bats and other weapons in hand. if he can use those thick gold rings—you can use your bat. fair game, right?

you caught him, drunk on the streets, and stupidly alone. your cousins beat up ford slowed down beside him—making it a repeat of what he’d do to others.

he took notice—stumbling as he turned his head. your own small gang took notice to this, stopping the car before jumping out.

you guys had beaten him to the point where he looked just like johnny. you kept your word, and you wouldn’t let anyone ever touch johnny like that.

you always hated soc’s. you’d do anything to do annoy ‘em. even if it meant stealing their mustangs, you always liked them anyhow.

steve always talked about how he’d do anything to drive a tuff car like that. everytime he seen one, that’s all he talked about.

“imagine drivin’ a car like that. could you imagine how fast i could go?”

you’d learn how to hot wire at a young age, rarely ever did it though. but when you seen a wine coloured mustang left unattended—you knew you had an opportunity.

it wasn’t hard to get it going, and it wasn’t hard to drive it to the DX without getting caught. steve was working in the hood of an old car outside until he heard a honk.

a grin grew on his face as he seen you in the drivers sear of the car, a smug look on your face. steve practically skipped as he rushed towards the vehicle, tapping the hood as he took a closer look.

as he was nothing less than mesmerized—you hopped out of the car. steve looked up at you from his crouched position before you threw the keys at him, walking towards the passenger seat.

steve immediately put two and two together, jumping into the car without a second thought.

you swore you ain’t never seen steve so happy when he was speeding down the road in this mustang. he never asked where you got it—and you never told him.

you and ponyboy were alright. he didn’t like being around you for long periods of time. on the other hand—you absolutely loved it.

you could tease him until the sun went down for everything and anything.

“what the hell are you wearin’, pony?”

“a shirt?”

“sure as hell don’t look like one.”

you’d ruffle his greased up hair, going against his complains. you’d mock his books and movies, mimicking what they just said in a higher voice. ponyboy always disliked this. he didn’t hate it however. a small part of him knew that’s how you showed affection.

but he never knew you could be so gentle when you felt like it—that he really, really liked. one day, when school was out and everyone was doing their own thing, ponyboy sat at home.

he was reading a book with the tv as background noise. until you barged through the door, beelining for the fridge. you got a beer, closing the door. you took a sear in darry’s chair, watching TV.

ponyboy wondered if you noticed he was even home. when he seen you enter—he felt insecure. you were the definition of a greaser—he was…just some guy that so happened to have grease in his hair.

you realized he stopped reading, his eyes everywhere but his book. sighing, you got up and sat beside him on the couch. you took one more swig of the beer before you told him to read out loud.

“read to me.”

“wh-huh?”

“the TV’s borin’. read.”

with that, he did. the longer ponyboy read, the more relaxed he became. of course—you looked like you wanted to rip your own head off—but ponyboy did like the fact you immersed yourself into the story.

“she fucking what?”

“yeah! crazy, right?”

“crazy’s an understatement, man.”

‘crazy’ is what people would call you and two-bit. people would’ve never willingly put the two of you in a room, but you two got along swimmingly.

he was loud, sometimes clingy, and always joking around. you really needed someone like him in your life. a breath of fresh air—until the two of you would compete.

“let’s see who can steal the most stuff without gettin’ caught.”

was a sentence often said between the two of you. a little fun never hurt nobody, right? two-bit seemed like the expert at stealing, and you just liked to break the law.

the longest it went on was for a week. you tot caught first and you have yet to live it down.

“so god fuckin’ help me—i will gauge your eyeballs out with this fucking fork!”

“yeah but, i’ll die knowin’ that i was able to steal without gettin’ BANNED!”

two-bit later had a bruise on his ribs.

you’ve never been one to stay in a group of people. but staying with these people—it was different in so many ways.

you knew they wanted you here, they knew you loved them and that you knew that they loved you too. and unfamiliar feeling sure—but a welcomed feeling.

you argued, fought, and even fist fought each other. but goddamnit, you all moved past it. and that’s all you could ask for in this little life. even if your life is mostly you sitting in a prison.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Bisexual. Bisexual. Bisexual. Bisexual!

It was the only word that was now bouncing around in Eddie Munson's brain. Steve had come out several minutes ago along with Robin, and they had long since moved on to playing Rocky Horror Picture show. The characters danced around in front of him, along with the word bouncing around in his head, in time with the music. Steve was saying how hot Tim Curry was, and suddenly Eddie imagined putting on the outfit himself. He imagined Steve saying that about him as he ran his hand up his thigh. Eddie shrieked.

"Pause! I have to make a phone call!" Eddie exclaimed, jumping up.

It was like all the lights in his head turned on, and there was this little man standing standing next to a projector as he showed Eddie all of the things that he had suppressed.

"Are you okay, Eddie?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, can I use your phone?" Eddie exclaimed.

"Sure, man," Steve said.

Eddie rushed into the kitchen and grabbed the phone. He dialed the familiar number pretty quickly and waited impatiently as the phone rang. A few rings later, and Ronnie answered the phone.

"Hey, Ronnie," Eddie said.

"What did you do now? Your voice sounds pretty high," Ronnie said.

"Nothing, Jesus," Eddie said rolling his eyes.

"You haven't been accused of murder again, have you?" Ronnie asked.

"No!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Yeah, you still haven't told me exactly what happened," Ronnie said.

"And I'm still not going to," Eddie sighed. "This isn't why I called. Do you know David Bowie?"

"Do I know him personally? No," Ronnie said. "Do I know of him? Yes."

"Ugh, you sarcastic shit. I think I'm like Bowie," Eddie said and groaned. "Ugh, I had that word in my head, but I think it fell out. . . Bisexual! Yes, that."

"Oh. Wow," Ronnie said and paused. "Would it annoy you to know that I kind of already figured that out a long time ago?"

"What? How?!" He asked.

"Oh, you were obvious even if you didn't know that you were being obvious," she said.

"Well, you could have given me a heads up, Ronnie," Eddie said.

"Oh, yeah, no. This was something that you needed to figure out for yourself," she said, and she paused. "Thanks for telling me."

"You're my best friend, Ronnie. You should be the first one to know about anything big like that," Eddie said. "Which apparently you already knew about."

"And yet, I still don't know what happened over spring break," she said. "Which is fine. By the way, even if I didn't know before I left, I would have known immediately when you made the call from the hospital and ranted about Steve Harrington's strong arms."

"Jesus, don't remind me," Eddie blushed. "I was high on pain meds."

"By the way, when I called before, it was Steve who answered. I like him. I approve of you and him raising that orphaned child together," Ronnie said. "He wouldn't shut up about you or what you're like with that kid. Jesus, why didn't you tell me you adopted a child with a man?"

"His name is Dustin, and he has a mom," Eddie rolled his eyes.

"I definitely like him better than Paige," Ronnie said.

"Would you give it a rest about Paige?" Eddie rolled his eyes.

"I still don't think she ever had a deal in place to begin with. You would have gone to LA, and there would have been no audition," Ronnie said.

"I'm hanging up now," Eddie sighed, the corners of his mouth lifted up.

"Good luck," Ronnie said, and Eddie hung up the phone.

Eddie walked into back into the living room where Steve and Robin were whispering amongst themselves.

"Everything alright?" Steve asked as Eddie sat back on the couch.

"Yeah, apparently I'm bisexual and I've always been like that. I just didn't know it," Eddie shrugged.

"What? Are you telling me you just had a crisis? Did you just go double-check?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, a little crisis, but I'm good now," Eddie said. "I called Ronnie."

"Ronnie?" Robin asked.

"Eddie's Robin," Steve explained.

"You have a Robin?" She asked.

"No, a Ronnie," Eddie corrected, and she rolled her eyes.

"So, you realized it just a few minutes ago?" Steve asked as he leaned over Robin.

"Yeah, after you guys came out, then when Tim Curry came on and then again when you called him hot. All I kept thinking about was how I wished you were calling me hot," Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Time for us to switch places," Robin grinned.

Steve and Robin swapped, so now Steve was sitting close to Eddie. He put his arm on the couch behind Eddie.

"Eddie," Steve said softly, and Eddie turned to face him. "You are very hot. Hotter than Tim Curry. You would look absolutely sinful in that outfit."

He leaned forward and kissed Eddie gently. Eddie kissed him back before Steve broke the kiss. He leaned back against the couch and pulled Eddie against his side, wrapping his arm around his shoulders.

"If Vickie wasn't working tonight, then this could be a double date," Robin said.

"Next time," Eddie grinned.

"Welcome to the club, Eddie," Robin said.

"Thanks," Eddie said softly.

Eddie relaxed into Steve’s arms, turning sideways and burrowing his head into Steve’s neck while throwing his arm across his stomach. The puzzle that was his life felt a little more complete now.

[respectthepetty]

Pride Petty Watch - LiTA (Sky/Prapai) 2/3

It took me much longer than expected to make it through the first two episodes of Sky x Prapai's arc in Love in the Air, but Prapai called Sky his boyfriend out of nowhere, so now I understand that he is Manifest Destiny-ing his way to love, and for the non-Americans, that's bad. Like real bad.

Let me be like Prapai and keep marching forward even though all the signs are telling me to stop.

In my first year of teaching, I was told I couldn't want the grade more the student did. I was reminded that some students don't want A's. Some students just want to pass the course, and that's fine. I need to take that approach with Prapai because he held Sky while he clung to him and cried for the nightmares to leave him in peace, yet in the morning, Prapai slings it back in Sky's face and makes it callously sexual. Clearly, Prapai doesn't want points for Slytherin. He does not want an A in decency. He does not want to pass "Go" on the board. Whatever he wants is between him and the demons he is fighting because obviously this ho does not want to be saved.

"Let me help you" - Look at that! As soon as you let men go, they wanna come back correct. Asking to help instead of forcibly inserting himself. Wow! So you are capable of not making everything aggressively sexual?

I'm watching you like a fucking hawk, Slytherin, which if you want to pass this course, you will note that hawks eat snakes, so basically I'm telling you I will devour you whole if you make another wrong move.

"That's all I ask," he says as he asks for EVERYTHING. "I will not restrain myself next time." "You cannot escape me." "Has he blocked this number?" Sky, babe, hon, bestie, rob this fucking man in his sleep. Take the watch off his wrist, the money from his wallet, and the audacity out of his mouth. These are the queer wrongs I'm trying to support this month.

"You should be spanked" - So 🙃 . . . IGNORING THAT! As a lifelong member and advisor of Greek life (fraternities and sororities are different for BIPOC), every time I see these university rituals, I always wonder what is the equivalent of a compliance officer in other countries because This. Is. Hazing.

And now Payu and Prapai are just hanging out at university activities like THEY DON'T GOT JOBS! Payu has a room in a garage, a room at his house with a toy car collection, and a terrified mechanic hiding under cars, so the man has got bills. Prapai has companies (plural) to run, and an overworked and rightfully annoyed (always in red) secretary holding down the fort, yet he is on a little vacay. Women in GLs - big bosses and screwing at work on company time. Men in BLs - FORGETTING THEY HAVE JOBS!

*Regina George has entered the chat* So you agree? You think you're a bad guy to Sky?

Every time Payu or Prapai mentions getting a reward (for not assaulting the boy they are chasing after especially when that boy is in a vulnerable position), I think of the conversation between Uea and King in episode five (part one) of Bed Friend when King asked for a reward and Uea said "The fuck you just say? Get outta here with that noise" then he left. Uea would eat these men alive.

The thinnest of ice, Prapai. I can see the freezing water rushing underneath. That's how thin the ice is that you are on, sir.

Because Prapai is confessing to sleeping with three other people since he began stalking Sky (no shame, as one slut to another, I'm actually very proud he admitted to it), can we get a STI test? We got condoms, so miracles can happen.

*squints* Is that a heart on your chest, Sky? No, I'm not angry. No, you're not in trouble. No, you're perfect. I'm just working through my own stuff, so I'm gonna need a minute to process this.

If you wanna live that chismosa life, you gotta be aware of your surroundings. Amateur.

Yeah yeah yeah, the wind needs the windmill or whatever dumb shit Dangerous Romance said. Now go make the lapel pin of it, and GET BACK TO WORK! This reeks of nepotism because there is no other way you would still have a job.

Prapai calls Sky by his name, no honorifics. Prapai sleeps on the floor. Prapai asks his mom for advice on how to care for someone. *squints* This is sus af.

And now he is swerving advances and doing his job. *squints even harder* Are you actually trying to pass this course now?

I, too, would be sad if rope was spewing out of my shirt like that.

Prapai just swindled a key to Sky's apartment without asking Sky for it. WHY DON'T YOU WANT TO FUCKING PASS THIS COURSE?! I DO NOT WANT TO SEE YOUR ASS AGAIN NEXT SEMESTER!

I play with my ears when I get tired, so now I feel even more connected to you Sky, and PRAPAI IS KISSING YOU?! NOOOOO! STOP!!!!! HE'S TIRED! LEAVE MY BOY ALONE!

"I can't guarantee your safety if I stay" - It was a fake out, and I have lost years off my life because of this show. YEARS!

The first step is admitting you have a problem are the problem. *growth*

I'm not going to question the aerodynamics of riding with that project on a bike, but I will state that Prapai is the prefect example of the MAME Extremes I wrote about in the previous post because when he is good, he is really fucking good, but when he is bad, he is The Worst™ so can't we just find an in-between?

Don't you go pointing your scrawny finger at my boy like that! You're lucky he even still speaks to you. Shut up, five! A ten is thinking!

Prapai spending all his money on Sky. Prapai deleting all the numbers from his phone. Prapai getting the lapel pin. Prapai cleaning Sky's apartment. Prapai being honest about wanting Sky without being aggressive or crass. *squints so hard my head hurts* This is how Joe must feel with Ming in My Stand-In because I want to trust your ass, but my God, do you make it so fucking hard. I'm begging you to not screw up after this. PLEASE!

I've seen this scene eighty different ways from my dash, but hearing Sky tell Prapai to get bored with him quickly so he can move on while internally begging for Prapai not to get bored knowing what I know about his ex . . . it is salt in the wounds, poison in the wells, and the phone call from within the house. It is painful, deadly, and terrifying.

Prapai listening tentatively as Sky finally tells him what he actually likes to eat. Prapai responding with little tidbits he has learned about Sky along the way. Prapai giving shoulder kisses. Prapai asking about the ex. To quote RuPaul, "don't fuck it up"

Sig is the realest of all these boys, and I would give him the softest ear bites, the best thigh kisses, and the most amazing blowjob because that's what he deserves!

Prapai - Claim me. Own me. Mark me!

Sky - Gross.

While all of Payu's after scenes only made him look worse as he embraced the Manipulate-Mansplain-Malewife way into Rain's heart, all of Prapai's scenes make him seem like the biggest simp, and I am, once again, pleading for balance!

So now on to the next episo - - -

Wait a minute . . . I know this scene

This is where Sky gets in his head and distances himself, so Prapai breaks in and reads the journal. Oh no. Oh no no no.

*lays face first in a field of lavender*

I need liquor, ice, and a blender. They are all needed for different reasons. No, I will not elaborate.

[starwarsmum]

Chapter 7 of Introducing: Mousinette 🥰 Moving to Gotham

In spite of having tried to plan a celebration with everyone for their BAC results, Marinette was the only one in their group who had not yet turned eighteen. And so, Lila had convinced the group that the club she had dragged them to would allow Marinette in if she gave her name at the door, regardless of their over-eighteens only policy.

Trying not to get overly worked up, she apologised to the bouncer at the club, messaging Alya to say that she was going to find somewhere to hang out for the next hour or so before heading home. She didn't expect a message back - the club had sounded unreasonably loud and Lila had a way of making Alya think that Marinette was tardier than she ever was these days.

She also pulled up her messages to Chloe and Adrien, venting her frustrations about their friendship group. Chloe messaged back immediately, saying that she was welcome to come to the hotel and spend time with her and Kagami, but Marinette declined. She knew the girls had not been able to go on a proper date in a while and didn't want to crash it.

After ninety minutes with no messages, Marinette paid for another coffee to go, and left the diner she had made camp in. It was a gorgeous evening, the streetlights twinkling along the Seine and various groups of people having fun. She stayed on well lit streets, enjoying the buoyant mood around her as she walked home.

Once home, she crept quietly upstairs, trying not to wake her parents. Sighing in relief when she made it to her room, she switched on her laptop and dropped a message to Barbara. Having cancelled their regular catch up, Marinette didn't expect to get a response, so was pleasantly surprised when a video call lit up her screen.

“Hey Babs,” she said quietly, leaning back in her bed and picking up an embroidery hoop. “I thought you would be busy since I cancelled on you. I was really only messaging to let you know I was home safe after the night flopped.”

“Hey Mari! Well, it's not just me tonight I'm afraid, I have visitors. Dick and Steph both came over to keep me company,” Barbara replied enthusiastically, and the other two popped their faces in to say hi. “But how come you're home so early?”

So Marinette gave a brief recount of her evening, laughing a little at Dick's affronted expression. When she had finished, she felt a little better for having vented, and so was stabbing her embroidery needle slightly less viciously. “But nothing new, I should have seen this coming when Alya suggested somewhere new. And I bet Lila manages to twist this against me somehow.”

“Wow, she sounds like a bitch,” Steph said offhandedly, although she looked annoyed. “Babe, if you need us to bring the smackdown, please just tell us. I will steal Bruce's jet and be there as soon as humanly possible to set people straight. Hell, I'll even bring the Demon with me to hammer it home if I have to.” 

Giggling at the thought, Marinette beamed at the blonde woman. She looked back down and finished a particularly tricky part of the embroidery before looking back at them all. “Oh my God, did I tell you that she lies about being besties with Tim and Damian? I swear she's a compulsive liar, I'm not sure I've ever heard her tell the truth, except for the times she's threatened me,” she added, almost thoughtfully.

“Hold up, she did what?” Dick said, looking even more concerned, if it was possible. He was typing furiously into his phone, typing, Marinette assumed, a message to Tim. “What's this girl's name? I know she can't possibly know Damian, because Damian has exactly one friend, but Tim really needs to shut this down if she's using his name for clout.”

“It's Lila Rossi, but she's not using it for clout per se, she's just using it to make our terrifyingly gullible classmates worship the ground she walks on. I'm not really sure what she gets out of it, other than irritating me and making ‘friends’,” she said, making sure they knew she didn't think they were really friends if she was lying to get them. “But it really doesn't matter, it's the end of June and I move to Gotham mid July. At which point, I don't have to deal with her anymore, plus I get to live some of the lies she tells.”

“It's still not cool, so I'm just giving Tim her name in case it crops up at some point. But she just lies? And nobody calls her out? Hell, I should get Tim to do a French press release just for this, she's clearly a menace to society. Just let us know if we need to do anything for you, we will shut it down,” Dick promised, which made Marinette smile.

“You'd have to get in line behind Jagged,” she admitted ruefully, chuckling at their confused expressions. “That was the first lie, she said she saved Jagged's kitten, as if he's ever had something as tame as a kitten, and she still says she's close with him. It's how she's got them believing half of what she says now. But I really don't want to talk about it any more. If I let her take up space in my brain, she wins.”

The other three begrudgingly accepted this, moving the conversation on to Marinette's impending relocation to the States. The conversation continued, touching briefly on Marinette's birthday plans. Marinette admitted that she didn't plan on doing much, as she would be too busy packing, but her parents were taking her and a few friends to a fancy restaurant to celebrate.

Actually moving from Paris to Gotham was an experience, one Marinette felt she could maybe have lived without. She had found a nice apartment, it had a main bedroom, living area with kitchenette, and a spare room, where she planned on putting her commission work. Moving all of her sewing equipment had been a hassle, and she needed to get extra furniture before she could set it up.

Fortunately, she had gotten herself ahead of her commissions and the space at Wayne Enterprises was all set for her work there. It meant that she could take a day or so to visit thrift stores and find a serviceable workbench or desk, as well as hit the local fabric stores for materials.

But for that night, she wanted to settle into the place, find somewhere secure to store the Miracle Box and sleep. She forced herself to order some takeout and eat it, but then she went through her nightly routine. Her room was at the top of the building, slightly cheaper because you could sometimes hear the vigilantes of Gotham pounding across the roof, but she wasn't really one for waking up to that kind of noise. Tikki would wake her if it was dangerous, but she often slept through most everything.

She found it relatively easy to fall asleep, and Tikki was nestled away on top of the Box. She didn't really remember dreaming at first, but she did jolt awake at 2am, having had a nightmare about Chat Blanc. Even though they were well past the issue, when she was disrupted she found her anxiety liked to bring that particular memory out for a spin.

Sighing and moving quietly, so as not to wake Tikki, and not to annoy her downstairs neighbours, she crept over to her kitchenette. After taking a long drink of cold water from the filter in her refrigerator, she felt the urge to step outside. She listened intently for a moment but couldn't hear footsteps, so she slid the window open and stepped onto the fire escape.

Moving lightly, she slid onto the roof, breathing in the cooler air. It was a warm night and the apartment trapped heat like crazy. She didn't have a trap door to let the heat out, so having access to the roof was nice. Knowing that she was in Gotham, she kept her guard up, which means she wasn't overly surprised when someone stepped out of the shadows on the other side of the roof.

“Bonjour,” she said, smiling up at Robin as he moved towards her. She refused to be intimidated by his silence, and turned back to the skyline view from the edge. 

Damian paused, unsure of how to deal with the sudden reappearance of the woman who had changed his behaviour so much, without even being present. He had been prepared to run into her in the office, even to meet her at the university, but during his time as a vigilante? And out on the rooftops, instead of during a mugging, or worse.

“Are you not sketching tonight?” He cringed internally at his abruptness, but outwardly he was cool and curious. She shrugged lightly, peering at him sideways. He could tell she remembered their previous encounter, and he had often wondered how she saw him. It wasn't often he interacted with civilians in both of his identities, and he found himself wondering how they compared.

They stood together in silence for a few minutes before she stepped over to the fire escape again, without saying a word. He quashed the disappointment that welled within him, watching as her head vanished from sight. He stood, immobile for several moments, and was about to retreat back to his perch when she reappeared.

“I'm afraid I don't have anything homemade today, but I did pick up a pack of cookies on my way here,” she said, apparently in explanation. He cocked his head at her, confused. She blushed a little, turning her back on the city to sit upon the ledge. “In Paris, when we had an active supervillain, the heroes would stop by my balcony on occasion, and I would provide a place to rest. Unfortunately, I do not have a balcony here, and I only moved in this afternoon, so I could not bake anything. But if you plan to be here regularly, I can leave some food out. It has always seemed hungry work, being a hero.”

“Vigilante,” he said automatically, leaning forward onto his forearms against the ledge she perched upon. “And whilst I appreciate the sentiment, I am not fond of sweets, particularly mass produced and packaged.”

“Alright,” she shrugged again, taking one for herself and closing the packet. She didn't say anything more, staying close to him without ever crowding him. As it ticked over to 3am, he excused himself, unmuting his comm and letting the team know that he was returning to base. He could feel her eyes on him as he leapt from building to building.

The next time he returned to the rooftop, he was curious as to whether she would be there. It was sooner than he thought it would be, not even a full week later. The roof was empty and he allowed himself to deliberately scuff his boots to make noise. It was just past midnight, early in his usual patrol but the previous night had seen them bust a particularly heinous trafficking ring. The nights following ones like that were notoriously quiet, so he saw no harm in situating himself on an innocuous rooftop and waiting to respond to any threats.

He saw her head peek over the top of the ledge, and her face brightened into a smile as she spotted him. His comm was already muted, most of the team recovering from minor scrapes and the remainder being in no mood to socialise during their individual patrols. Grayson was patrolling the other side of town, but the comm was silent from his usual prattle.

He eyed the plate in Marinette's hand as she approached him and went to remind her that he did not eat sweets often when she gave him a quiet greeting. He felt wrong footed, as though she were following a script and he hadn't been given any notes. Rather than perch where she had last time, she came over to his own perch and settled onto the roof rather than the ledge.

“I know you don't normally eat sweets, so I made some mini quiches and cheese twists,” she said when she was fully settled. He hesitated again, unsure if he should eat anything. He would never normally accept food from a civilian during patrol, but ordinarily he would not have spoken with her either. 

When he did accept one, she seemed to brighten considerably, and began chattering about her day, how she had gone into her new job’s building and made a great deal of progress on her work. He already knew she was working at Wayne Enterprises, so he didn't make any outward reaction when she mentioned Drake as her boss.

“So you have always helped your city's heroes by providing nourishment?” He wanted to learn more about the Parisian heroes and her relationship with them seemed the easiest way to breach that topic. “Did they not find you suspicious?”

“Do you find me suspicious?” He would have thought her pretending to be coy if he couldn't hear a genuine sort of surprise to the question. When he didn't say anything, she continued. “Huh, well, no, I guess they didn't. It was mostly Chat Noir who visited me, and we met because I was being targeted by one of the akuma…”

As she launched into a description of her experience with someone called the Evillustrator, he watched her, fascinated by how emotive she was to this version of him. He asked questions as she spoke, and she answered eagerly. He wondered if she had spoken to anyone else about her experiences with heroes.

It startled him when Grayson called for help in his sector, and he hastily said goodbye to Marinette before launching into the night, confirming that he was on his way. He wondered, after the threat was dealt with, whether he would see her on the roof again.

_ _ _

She hadn't intended to befriend the vigilante that frequented her rooftop, but that's what had happened. Sometimes she would be up there already, working on designs, sometimes she would wake when he was stationed above and come to join him. Other times, she would be awake when his feet scuffed the rooftop and she would make her way up. She shared a lot about her time in Paris, finding it easier to talk about her old friends, the villains, and Lila, without worrying that he would dismiss her. It also helped having an outside perspective, something she couldn't get from anyone else.

It was a slightly dreary evening at the end of summer when she began to talk about her plans for the coming academic year. She was huddled closer to him than usual, using him to shield herself from the light rain. She felt a rush of affection for him, not dissimilar to how she would feel as Ladybug, interacting with Chat Noir. 

“I just can't believe I have to start classes soon,” she mused, flicking open an app on her phone with her schedule. “I might not be up on the roof as often, but I can leave snacks out in plastic boxes. And I'll try to come out, once a month at least. You're probably the only friend other than Babs that I've made since getting here.”

“What about your employer? I had thought you were on good terms with him,” he said quietly, apparently trying to hide a smile. “And you are sure to make friends in your classes. It is more likely that you will stop coming up here because you have a more filled social calendar, is it not?”

“Hmmm, I don't think so. My understanding is that the first year of university is to be social, but I have already locked myself into a job that will take up so much of my free time, and I have a scholarship to maintain. No, I think it more likely that you will get bored of quiet nights on the roof once the weather changes,” she said ruefully. “And that is a shame, because you are surprisingly good company. When I talk to Babs about the vigilantes,” she missed the panic that flashed across his face, “she says that Nightwing is known to be chatty, Red Robin is some kind of super genius, Red Hood is violent and you are supposedly very prickly.”

“You talk to your friend about these visits?” He sounded confused, maybe a little concerned and she waved her hands emphatically.

“Oh, no, absolutely not. She already worries about me living alone on the top apartment of a complex, I don't want her to know I regularly go onto the roof, alone save for dubiously grouchy vigilantes,” she teased, smiling again. When he nodded, she thought she spotted some relief, which made her wonder if he usually was prickly, but she had somehow earned his friendship.

“Well, perhaps you will befriend more dubiously grouchy people,” he said, sounding amused. She hummed thoughtfully, thinking of another dark haired boy, one who was genuinely grouchy. “Or perhaps you will attract rays of sunshine. Or more people like your unfortunate nemesis, Lila.”

“God, I hope not,” she groaned, looking out at the cityscape again. “If I come across another one of her, I'm calling bull. Did I ever tell you she lies about knowing the upper echelons of Gotham? Claims to be besties with the Waynes, which I know for a fact is a lie, because I asked Tim outright. And if she's friends with Damian, they deserve each other,” she finished sourly.

“You have a problem with the youngest Wayne?” He asked, voice rumbling quietly. She hesitated, wishing she'd minded her tongue - she made an effort not to badmouth any of her acquaintances to him, not knowing who he was or who he knew.

“I wouldn't say I have a problem, per se. He's kind of stuck up, which should be expected, being from money. Like my friend Chloe, she was awful to grow up with and her dad was mayor of Paris. But he's an adult and was just so dismissive of me, right when we first met. Which, fine, I don't need to be friends with everyone, but he's both my boss's little brother and a sort of brother to my friend Babs, so I wanted to get on with him. If I had more time and energy, I might've tried to wear him down, but I'm in a new city, I have work and I have classes.”

“Well, if he was foolish enough to treat you poorly without reason, he will probably give you space. But if you are worried about it for your friends’ sake, perhaps you could extend an olive branch. Perhaps he was having a bad day when you met.”

“The next time I spent one on one time with him, he called me short and childish,” she said flatly, once again missing the contrite look that crossed his face. “He also said that cooking was easy, even though he's never tried it, and that moving out of his manor was beneath him. But forget that, I'm running my mouth when I shouldn't. It happens when I'm nervous, and the idea of starting university in a completely different country is scary.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, and Marinette was relieved she hadn't ruined things by ranting about her not-problems. When she eventually went inside, she went straight to bed, and slept through until morning.

[thearvariblues]

Pit Babe Anniversary Week 2 - Something Blue

prompts: Alan, Jeff, Blue

also on AO3

---

“Uhm, uncle?” Sonic says, tilting his head and frowning at the man who’s technically his boss.

“Yes?” Alan sighs, lifting his head from his laptop. “What is it? Are we out of soy milk again?”

“I… No?”

“Sausages, then?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Toothpaste?”

“We have toothpaste in here?” Sonic blinks.

“Sure do!” a voice from below a nearby race car chimes in. “Babe demanded it some time ago. Said he needs it for reasons totally unrelated to him sucking P’Charlie off after nearly every practice.”

“Oh. Hi, Jeff!” Sonic says in the general direction of said car. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Sonic,” Alan prompts. “Focus. Was there anything you needed?”

“Yeah. Actually. I–”

“Sonic!” North’s voice suddenly shouts, right before Sonic finds himself wrapped in a pair of strong, sexy arms… Hang on, who said that?!

“N-North,” he stammers out. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere! I’m happy I found you!” North exclaims.

“I literally only went to get a coffee, North. I was gone for like three minutes. You couldn’t have started missing me in three minutes!”

“Oh, no, I just wanted to ask you to make me a coffee, too.”

“Don’t you have hands?!” Sonic snaps as he wriggles out of his friend’s arms. “Why don’t you make one for me, eh, since you’re already here? I haven’t gotten to it yet, so why don’t you make yourself useful?”

“I… Sure?” North shrugs. “Wow, uncle, you seem to have something blue on your neck.”

“What?” Alan blinks, reaching up to feel above the collar on his shirt. “Blue?”

“Yeah, I was about to say that,” Sonic nods. “If someone hadn’t interrupted me.”

“Are you mad at me?” North frowns. “You weren’t mad at me when you went for the coffee.”

“I’m mad because you’re annoying! You run in here, you throw yourself at me, you don’t even let me finish a sentence, and then it looks like you were the one who noticed that uncle has some blue shit on his face!”

“Face?!” Alan blinks, grabbing his phone. “You said neck, Sonic!”

“Oh, now that you’ve turned, it’s actually on your face, too, uncle,” North replies. “On your chin, actually. It almost looks like… paint?”

There’s a loud clattering noise from below the car, followed by a groan.

“You okay there, Jeff?” Sonic asks, turning towards the sound of the noise.

“Fine, phi!” Jeff replies. “Don’t mind me, I just… dropped something.”

In the meantime, Alan keeps turning his phone this way and another, trying to catch a glimpse of his face in the dark screen. Sonic rolls his eyes, grabs the phone from Alan’s hand, unlocks it (because let’s face it, the whole X-Hunter team knows Alan’s password) and turns on the front camera before returning the device to its owner’s hands.

Alan looks at the screen, turns his head… and simply stares.

“It… looks kinda like a handprint, doesn’t it?” North asks, leaning in closer to his friend. Friend? Yes, definitely friend.

“Kinda, yeah,” Sonic agrees. “But why would uncle have a blue handprint on his neck and face?”

“Who has a blue handprint on… Oh. P’Alan,” a voice suddenly says behind Sonic, a voice that belongs to Way, and when did he arrive?“Yeah, that’s definitely a handprint.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Alan mutters, covering the blue stain with his palm. “Why don’t you all mind your own business, kids, eh? Aren’t you supposed to be practicing?!”

“How can I practice without my coffee?” Sonic whines.

“Well, go make one, drink it, and then go practice!”

North hums, leaning in so close that there’s no way Sonic could ignore his scent. “Why is uncle being so weird?” he asks.

“How should I know?!” Sonic snaps, taking a quick but big step away from the omega. “Why are you getting all into my personal space?!”

“I… do that all the time?” North blinks.

“Well, stop it, then, since you clearly love coffee more than you love me!”

“Who says I love coffee more than I love you?”

“You!” Sonic yells. “You said it!”

“When did I… Sonic! Sonic, come back!” North shouts, following Sonic who just ran away.

“Mhm,” Way hums, glancing at the door both boys disappeared through. “You think they’re finally gonna be forced to confess their feelings?”

“Who’s confessing their feelings?” Babe’s voice says behind Way. “And why are North and Sonic running around yelling at each other? And why does P’Alan have an X-Hunter blue handprint on his face?”

“Yeah,” Way chuckles. “I have a feeling that has something to do with the new paint job on your car Jeff was about to attempt today. Right, Jeff?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, phi!” the space below the car replies. “I haven’t gotten to that yet, I have so much work around here, you see!”

“But if Jeff was painting my car, how comes it’s P’Alan’s face that’s dirty?”

“Think, Babe,” Way snorts, rolling his eyes.

Babe blinks slowly, clearly finding the process of thinking to be kind of painful. He frowns, then frowns a bit deeper… And then his eyes go the teeniest bit wider.

“You think…”

“That at some point, the painting of your car turned to fucking, yes,” Way nods with a smile. “Am I right, P’Alan?”

“Of course not! We’re not constantly horny like you and Pete, or you and Charlie!” Alan snaps, switching his attention from Way to Babe. “We don’t fuck in the garage!”

“Who’s fucking in the garage?” asks Charlie’s voice right behind Way.

“No one! No one is fucking in the garage!” Alan whines. “No one is allowed to be fucking in the garage!”

“Fine,” Babe shrugs. “I’ll make sure to take the car outside if we want to fuck in it, then.”

“Good idea!” Charlie nods. “Oh, Jeff, you’re here too? How’s the paint job on P’Babe’s car? Can I see it?”

“No! It’s not done yet!” Alan blurts out. “Still needs some work. Babe will practice in your car today!”

Way hums. “You know, I’m just wondering whether it was just an accident, or… maybe some kind of a kink?”

“Who’s got a kink?” another voice behind Way asks, causing Way to immediately spin around and smile brightly.

“Pete!” Way exclaims, throwing himself at the man. “What are you doing here, my love? Weren’t you supposed to be in a meeting?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” Pete grins as he wraps his arms around his lover. “Do you mind?”

“Oh, not at all,” Way purrs. “You’re here in time to have some fun, actually.”

“No,” Alan growls. “There will be no fun involved here. You are finally gonna do some work, all of you!”

“I don’t work here,” Pete frowns. “I’m… kind of the boss, actually?”

“I don’t work here, either,” Way shrugs. “I was just bored and wanted to watch the practice.”

“Why don’t you go watch it, then?!”

“Because…” Babe murmurs. “Nobody’s practicing?”

“Right. Right,” Alan nods. “Then why aren’t you practicing?!”

“Apparently because his car isn’t done to your satisfaction, phi,” Way beams.

“He can take Charlie’s, then!” Alan whines. “Or Sonic’s, for that matter, because I don’t think he is about to actually start practicing today. Just… pick a car, please, any car, and go do your job. And give me some peace and quiet so I can actually do mine. Please!”

“P’Alan?” Pete frowns. “Uhm, sorry, but it looks like you have something blue–”

“Out!” Alan yells. “All of you! Out!”

“Oh, we’re extra grumpy today, P’Alan,” Way chuckles. “Yes, sorry, we’re leaving, of course. We’ll let you finish… what you started. Have fun! Let’s go, Pete. Babe?”

“I…” Babe blinks. “I don’t understand. Is this about sex again?”

“Of course,” Way nods as he struts out of the garage, holding onto Pete’s hand. “It’s always about sex. Come on.”

“But what about my car?” Babe asks, following his friend.

“You heard P’Alan. You can take Sonic’s.”

“Actually,” Charlie peeps by Babe’s side. “North’s car is slightly better than Sonic’s.”

“Pick whichever you want,” Way shrugs, waving his hand. “But pick carefully, since the other one will probably be busy. Pete, have I mentioned that you look really hot in this shirt?”

“Didn’t P’Alan just say no fucking in the garage?” Pete chuckles.

“The car’s standing outside, though,” Way points out.

“Oh? Well, in that case… Have I mentioned you look stunning in this jacket, my love?”

---

Alan waits until everyone is definitely out of the garage, and only then groans loudly and sinks into his chair.

“Oh, hell,” he murmurs, rubbing his eyes. “I’m way too old for this shit. You can come out now, kid.”

“That was pretty close, wasn’t it?” Jeff asks, finally climbing out from below the car.

Alan cracks an eye open and looks at his lover, with his haphazardly open overalls and blue-stained chest.

“Close? That was nowhere near close! Way guessed it all, and he was right!”

“He wasn’t right about the… the kink thing, though,” Jeff replies, lowering his voice to nearly a whisper. “It really was an accident!”

“Yeah. I’ll make sure to tell him that,” Alan mutters.

“Hm,” Jeff hums. “He was right about you being extra grumpy today, though.”

“And can you blame me?” Alan sighs. “We were nearly caught… What are you doing, Jeff?”

“Finishing what we started, uncle,” Jeff replies as he straddles Alan’s thighs. “Or do you mind?”

“Do I mind? Kid. Anyone can come in through that door any second, and I just told them–”

“You’re the boss around here, though,” Jeff chuckles, leaning in close to kiss Alan. “The rules don’t apply to you, uncle.”

“Don’t they,” Alan murmurs, feeling his anxiety vanish and get promptly replaced by… an entirely different feeling. “Don’t they really.”

“Mhm,” Jeff murmurs. “Really.”

Alan takes a deep breath, trying to talk himself out of this, only to find that his brain can’t come up with a single valid argument.

“If they catch us…” he starts, but he doesn’t have the slightest idea how to actually finish the sentence. “Oh, whatever. Let’s do it. I’m never gonna hear the end of it, anyway. Go big or go home, right?”

“Right,” Jeff grins. “Go big or go home.”

[deadpool15]

Getting Even

"Come on baby, I said I was sorry. Like 12 fucking times". Lusher said as she keeps trying to grab on me. See, any other time, I would allow her to touch me because usually she can't ever keep her hands to herself. But not this time. "Yea, because I should totally accept your I'm sorry Morgan, let me fuck you to make it better. Or better yet, let's completely forget about the issue cause Lusher can do no wrong." She looks at me scowling, "I never said that Mor." "You didn't fucking have to you made it very clear when you refuses to read thr fucking room."

Flashback

"Bro, I'm surprised that you and Lusher even got together. I mean, she would constantly ask you ok in high-school remember that. He got rejected every time, kinda crazy to see the infamous heart throb get her ass rejected." I just looked at him laughing, I was slightly tipsy. Not drunk, considering I wanted to have a good time but not have to deal with the after effects of that good time in the morning. Lusher went to the bathroom a couple of minutes ago, then came back talking about her meeting up with her crew. He told me to come over when I was done. So I make my way over to them, I don't remember who this guy was, I've been trying to get away from this conversation for the longest. Eventually, I managed to worm my way through the crowd.

It takes me about a minute for me to find the girls until I spot Bada towering over a group of people. Yeah, wherever she goes, they go. I make my way over to them until I spot Lusher dancing with some fucking girl. "Who the fuck is that bitch," I see Bada turn around and spot me with a nervous look. I'm glad she knows that I'm about to beat a bitch up right now. I try to go over there before Lusher sees me and throws a wave in my direction, and starts to walk towards me. "Hey, baby, what's up." I raise my chin slightly to look up at her a bit. "You are not fucking serious right now, please tell me your not that fucking slow." She stands there looking confused for what feels like an hour.

"Oo, you mean the dance? It was just a dance baby. I was actually going to go look for you, so we can dance together." I stare at her trying to hard not to fucking trip in this club. "You were going to go look for me. Really? Wow, nice to know that I'm a second fucking option in my own relationship. You know what? I'm not even gonna get mad." She looks at me trying to figure out what she did wrong, "Baby, I'm confused. What's wrong? And you're not a second option. I just wanted to dance with you. I mean, i dance with people all the time, get used to it." She says sort of joking but I can tell she getting annoyed. "You're right, I'm going home. Hope that bitch knows your address like she knows your body, cause your not riding with me."

Present

I continue getting the details of the hang put while I'm going around the room getting ready. I put on the sluttiest dress I cancfind after getting out the shower. And realize Lusher is still going about being fake sorry. I walk out the bathroom with the lotion in hand still naked with a towel wrapped around my body and sit on the bed go lather my legs. She stood in front of me, grabbed the body, and squeezed some in her hand. He slowly starts to put in on my legs, making sure to caress and kiss on each part of my calfs. I look down at her, see any other time I would've just given right into these little tricks. Not tonight, though. Tonight is about getting even. "That's cute. Thanks for the help, but I've got places to be, baby."

I make sure to overly pronounce the last word just to piss her off even more. I leave her right in that position, still squatting on the floor, looking mad as shit. I guess, eventually, she calms down enough to remember what I said. "Places to be? Where the fuck are you going? We are still discussing something important, Morgan." I continue to put on the dress while starting my makeup and listening to her speak. "No, you are speaking. You told me to get over it. So, I am over it." I finish the final touches on my makeup and make my way out of the bathroom.

"No, you're not going out. We aren't done talking, and you aren't over it. And what the fuck are you wearing?" I look down and smile up at her, "A dress baby." "To hell it is, it's basically a piece of fucking string I can see your ass." I try to walk around her and get my keys. Right when she grabs me by my hips, "Come on baby. I am so fucking sorry. You were right, and I was wrong. Please." I stare at her, smiling evily. "It's ok sweetie", she said , relieved before I told her. "But I'm still going out and having fun in this dress simply because I want to now, bye." I move around her, grabbing my key, running out the apartment before she can start again.

I had been out for about an hour or two taking a shot after shot straight to the hand. I danced with everyone who came up to me pretty much. I was having the time of my life. Until one of my friends said something about calling my girlfriend. Apparently, I was too drunk, so after I told them no. I walked into the bathroom to wash my face. I went then decided to use the bathroom while I was in there, and I heard someone come in. I didn't really give a shit. Until I stepped out the stall and saw low and behold, "Lusher?" She rushes up to me and starts checking all around my body. "Are you ok, I know when you get drunk, you get clumsy, baby. Speak to me Morgan, fuck." I look at her dazed and nodding my head. Shit I'm sober already. She smiles at me for about a second.

Then, she grabs me and pins me to the door, making sure to lock it. What if people have to use the bathroom." She reaches her hand out and grips my neck. Man, this is hot. "You think I would give a singular fuck about some random have to piss. No, this is about me and you, and I advise you to take those pretty ass panties off before I make you scream for this entire place to hear. Would you like that, for everyone to know what a stubborn slut my girlfriend is?." One of her fingers have made there way to rubbing my clit, while the other slowly starts to fuck itself into me. "If I would've known this, was your reaction that I would've done this ages go." I say smirking.

Until she hits that magical spit inside of me, casting me to grab her hand and hold my neck and scream. She moves to be pressed against my back while continuing to abuse that spot. "Of course you would. Fucking slut only thinking about being filled up, huh? I heard you were out here just throwing you ass on everyone. Like I haven't taught you better than that." I start to moan out loud not giving a single fuck about how loud I am, maybe the speakers will cancel it out. But I can't think to long about anything when she is fucking the shit out of me. "Fuck, baby... shit..m right there." I don't know, seemed I got to teach you manners again."

[daisydoesfanfics]

|Confession|

Kaveh x fem!reader

Description: Kaveh, your best friend, has been crushing on you since your school days. Alhaitham had enough of him ranting about you so he pushes Kaveh to confess.

Genre: Fluff, romance, friend to lovers

Warning: None (pls let me know if there are any)

A/N: OKAY SO, it's been a while. My school year is almost ending and I finally have some motivation. (Definitely didn't have a wheel decide this for me...) Enjoy!!!

Does Kaveh like you? That's an understatement, he loves you. For how long? Longer than he could imagine. He first thought that you were just nice to him, nothing special. So he returned the favour, because that's what friends do, right? He then started falling for how sweet and beautiful you are. He brushed the thought off, thinking that it was just a silly crush. But he started getting jealous when other scholars flirted with you. He started thinking about you 24/7. He started day dreaming about you. Kaveh knew that he didn't just like you, you were his everything. You understood him so well, better than anyone else could.

Alhaitham groaned as he listened to Kaveh complain. "And he even winked at her!!" Kaveh practically yelled from across the table. Alhaitham rolled his eyes, not putting his book down. "Worst part is, she blushed! She blushed!! Do you know what that means?!" Kaveh was telling Alhaitham about the events earlier that morning. Long story short, a store owner was flirting with you. "Hey, are you even listening??" Kaveh asked in an annoyed tone. Alhaitham put his book down and looked at Kaveh seriously. "Kaveh, she was just flustered. Anyone can blush at that, even if they don't like the person." Alhaitham sighed. "Just confess to her already." Kaveh's eyes widened at Alhaitham's suggestion. "No! What if she rejects me?" "What if she doesn't?" Kaveh slumped in his chair. Fine, he'll confess.

As you were doing your paperwork, you received a message from Kaveh.

'Hey, can we have dinner later? I want to hang out with you!'

You smiled and picked up your phone and replied with a short: 'Sure! I'll see you there at 6 pm.'

A few hours went by and you decided to get dressed for your meet up with Kaveh. You picked a simple outfit (I'll leave this to your imagination.) Kaveh on the other hand was panicking. How was he going to confess? What will he do if you say if you didn't feel the same way? Alhaitham tried to calm him down and reassure him. (It didn't work.) Kaveh rushed to the restaurant 10 minutes before the agreed time. He waited a few minutes and when he heard your soft voice calling out to him, he couldn't help but feel giddy yet nervous at the same time.

"Kaveh!!" You said sweetly before sitting down across from him.

"Miya, wow... You look... Great." He smiled shyly. A thin tension is felt in the air as you both stayed silent for a while. He finally speaks up, clearing his throat. "So, let's order? I'll pay this time." He took two menus and gave one to you. "Am I dreaming or are you actually going to pay?" You laughed before opening the menu. "I'm kidding. Anyways... I'll have pasta. How about you?" Kaveh blushed a bit at your teasing before answering. "I'll have steak." The waiter soon comes and collects your orders.

The next few minutes were filled with you two laughing and catching up with each other. The nervousness and anxiety he had earlier was now gone as he was more comfortable. The food was given to you both and it was delicious. The restaurant light glowed a faint yellow, setting a calm and somewhat romantic mood. You two talked more about work, the past, and other useless stuff.

"Oh, it's getting late now." You glanced at your watch. "You're right. How about I walk you home?" Kaveh offered. You nodded and smiled. You both stood up and gathered your stuff. As you two were walking to your house, you notice him being a bit more silent than usual.

"Are you alright, Kaveh?" You stopped walking on the sidewalk. Kaveh sighed before turning to you. "I can only do this now, so I have to make it worth it. I love you, Y/N... I've loved you for so long now. Your hair, your smile, your kindness, your eyes, your lips... Everything about you is so intoxicating in the best way." Kaveh's confession caused you to slightly open your mouth in surprise. "Kaveh..." Before you could finish talking, he intreupted you. "It's okay if you don't feel the same way. I just had to tell you..." You grabbed his hands and held them in such a soft and secure way that it made him feel so safe. "I love you too. I just never told you because... I was scared... And I-" Kaveh intreupted you once more, but this time not with words but with a soft kiss.

There you both were, holding each other passionately and lovingly in the dim light of the street lamp. How perfect~

[ya-what--ya-erster]

@bigmack2go you gotta name this for me

....

.......

.............. It's almost astonishing how long it took Spot and Race to figure out that they were soulmates. 

"Eight years of dumbassery." According to Jack (who was no better about figuring things out with David).

But the important thing is that they did indeed find each other. 

"Tell me again how it happened?" Elmer asks for the millionth time. He's a hopeless romantic, just a little bit. He's patiently waiting for his soulmate, being eight, and since Race and Spot's story is short and sweet (and because he lives with them), he chooses them as the victims of his fascination with soulmates. Spot finds it a little annoying, but Race loves reliving the moment. 

So he throws back the rest of his energy drink, smiles charmingly at Spot (who rolls his eyes), and tells Elmer yet again. 

"On Halloween five years ago, we was gettin' ready to head out to this party, and Spot fell down the steps and cut his knee open somethin' awful. So when I was patchin' him up, I noticed I'd bleed through my pants, on my knee. Naturally, I just shrugged that off cause I have a high pain tolerance and find random injuries on myself all the- hey look." Race points to a little bruise forming on the side of his leg. "I don't even know where that one came from. I don't think it was you, was it Spottie?"

"You're gettin' off track, Racer. And no, it wasn't me." Spot rolls his eyes affectionately at the blonde sitting next to him. 

"Huh. Weird. ANYWAYS. I totally ignored it and then as we're walkin' down the street, Spot's like, 'Dude what happened to your knee?' And I'm like 'somethin' stupid probably' and he's like 'thats the same as mine.' And so of course I'm like, 'that's an awesome coincidence!' And he's like 'you fuckin' dumbass, Race, it means we're soulmates.' And then he kissed me."

"Wow." Elmer says with stars in his eyes, even though he's heard the story a million times. 

"Yeah." Race snuggles up close to Spot, who makes a face but accepts him into his arms and eventually allows the corners of his mouth to turn upwards into a pleasant expression. 

"Course we wrote to each other, too. Which was always confusin'. Race coulnd't make up his mind about anything. Hate tacos one day and the next he likes 'em. Favorite color goin' from blue to green. Bein' a dancer to bein' unemployed."

"To defend myself on that last one being a dancer could practically be considered unemployed sometimes. I dunno about them others."

"You're just crazy, I guess."

"I guess." Race sits up and turns to Elmer. "You can go next door to hang with Buttons if you want, but I want you back here by five, got it?"

"Yep! Thank you!" Elmer bounces up and dashed out the door without a single seconds thought.

"That kid." Race laughs. Elmer's been living with them through the foster system for a year now, and Race and Spot are both glad to see that he has gotten a lot happier since the day he arrived. They are planning on bringing up the idea of adopting him sometime soon. And Race is certain he'll be open to it. 

"I've gotta leave for work in an hour." Spot says, shifting his weight in his seat.

"I'm gonna head in twenty minutes. Go practice for the show comin' up or something."

"Alright."

...

"Nice shiner." Boots says to Race, walking by.

"Nice- what?" Race asks.

"Shiner. Bruise. Black eye. Take your pick." Boots says.

"Wasn't me." Race rolls his eyes. "Must'a been Spot. Probably got in a fight."

"Thought he was getting better about that?"

"He is. But he still gets into 'em on occasion."

"Does it hurt?"

"Yeah, a little. Think I'm gonna write out my routines on my arms when I get home to get back at him. He hates it when I do that."

"Have at it. But right now, get your tap shoes on before Denton kills you, or worse, drops you from the show."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Probably kicked hiself in the face again." Spot mutters to himself, looking into the mirror. He starts to put some makeup over it so he can head to work, but he stops as he sees writing on his arm.

Please don't cover it. I need it.

Spot hurries to pick up a pen.

Not the weirdest thing youve ever asked for I guess

Thank you

Anything for you mi amor

Spot washes the interraction off of his arm to avoid trouble with his boss, and heads out the door.

"Okay, what did you do?" Race asks Spot as he closes the door to their apartment behind him.

"What?" Spot asks.

"The black eye. Who did you fight?"

"It wasn't you? I just though you had gotten a good kick to the face again."

"One time."

"So it wasn't you?"

"No it wasn't me! I thought it was you!"

"So then how do we have a black eye?"

"My friend Crutchie has two soulmates." Elmer pitches in quietly.

"So we just, just have another soulmate, you think?" Race asks.

"What other explanation is there?" Spot rolls his eyes. "All this time..."

"Wait! I have an idea! Let's write to them!"

Spot nods and pulls the pen out of his front shirt pocket.

He writes a quick hello and the two wait.

After five minutes of nothing, they just sit down on the couch, defeated. 

Two weeks later, Race pulls out his phone to read the news, like he does every evening, this evening doing it with a slight aggression. 

Man Arrested For Abuse of Son and Wife

Henry DaSilva (51) was arrested this evening for the abuse of his son (25) and wife (50). DaSilva has two other children who have never been harmed. His wife recieved the worst of the inhuries, with a broken arm and shattered glass entered in her left chest and shoulder area. The son suffers injuries as well, though less extreme. A black eye and marks across his back that suggest some form of whipping-

"Spot." Race shakes Spot's shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Look on my back for me."

"Weird, but okay?"

Race pulls his shirt up and Spot gasps when he sees it.

"Marked up?" Race asks.

"Yeah. It's like you've been-"

"Whipped." Race fills in, handing his phone containing the article to Spot. 

"Holy shit." Spot says as he reads. "First of all, that could be our soulmate. Second of all, that's a huge invasion of privacy-"

"Is there a picture?" Race asks, snatching his phone back. He scrolls for a moment, and does indeed find a picture of the family, blurring out the two siblings that were mentioned to not have been harmed. 

"Crazy invasion of privacy." Spot repeats. 

"I know." Race agrees. "But damn. Look at that hair, and his smile, I really hope this guy is our soulmate."

"I don't know about this, Race."

"What do you mean?"

"I dunno, I just don't want to get our hopes up."

"I'm callin' Jack anyways. He knows everyone in the city who has a shitty family situation."

...

"He has an address for us. Let's go."

"Race, it's Christmas. And Elmer's going to be home in two hours."

"Then that's two hours we have to go find our soulmate!" Race pulls Spot onto his feet and leads him to the doorway, frantically pulling on his shoes. 

"Please, just wait!"

Race freezes. "What's wrong?"

"I just... you're still gonna love me if we find this guy and he's the most perfect thing you've ever seen, right?"

"Oh. Spot, I love you. So much that the universe decided we have to be together. If there's someone else meant for us, I ain't gonna love you less."

"Okay. Okay, then let's go!"

...

Race knocks on the apartment door and waits as he hears shuffling inside. 

"Hello?" The gorgeous redhead opens the door, and... there's no black eye on this boy. 

"Oh, uh, hi." Race manages to say through his disappointment. 

"Can I help you two?"

"No, uh, sorry. We thought... well we read on the news about your dad and we thought you might be our soulmate, but clearly not, so sorry to bother you." Race reaches in and begins to pull the door shut in front of him, but the boy stops him. 

"You're looking for my brother." The boy says. "I'm Tommy, you can come inside. I can call him over."

Spot and Race hesitantly follow him inside the apartment and sit themselves on the edge of the couch after being given permission. 

In the kitchen area is the woman Spot assumes is the mother, and a girl of about eight is sitting at the table and sneaking bites of the strawberries the woman is cutting up. 

"He'll be here soon. You two are welcome to hang around."

"We should probably call El and tell him we ain't gonna be home for a while." Race suggests. 

"If you have someone at home, you can have them come by too. Mama's making dinner. She'll be happy to feed ya."

"We couldn't-"

"But I just said you could, didn't I?" Tommy cuts Spot off. "Who is it?"

"Our son." Race says with a smile. "This is his first Christmas with us, so I hope you really don't mind if we drag him out here?"

"Not at all. We'd love to have him."

...

Elmer and the Potential Soulmate arrive at the same time. 

Elmer runs inside and sits down with a flop next to Spot and Race. 

"Who the fuck are these-"

Potential Soulmate freezes as he processes what's in front of him. 

"How the hell-"

"I'm Race." Race says immediately. "I'm your soulmate. And so's Spot. We're all soulmates. And we came to find you."

"His name's Albert, since he's clearly not speaking for himself." Tommy says after a minute. 

"Fuck you." Albert snaps at him. "I just... you guys? You guys are my soulmates?"

"It appears so." 

"Prove it."

Race snatches a pen from Spot's shirt pocket and draws a penis on his hand quickly.

"You little shit." Albert cusses. But there's a smile growing on his face.

"I'm an artist, what can I say?"

"You're not an artist. You're a dancer. You told me so. Assuming you're the dancer and Spot's the one who works an office job."

"You'd be correct there."

"I thought so. You're more the type to dance."

"Wait, so you knew there was three of us?"

"Um. Yeah? You'd have to be kind of stupid not to." 

"That's low, and to say to your soulmates! You just met us!"

"Race is an idiot." Spot says. "And I'm inattentive. We thought it was just us."

"Spotty!" Race frowns dramatically. "I'll have you all know I'm actually really smart!"

"It's true." Spot says with a proud smile, holding Race's hand. 

"I went to college for smart people stuff. Science-y and math-y and all. And I graduated." 

"But you didn't put it together that you had two soulmates?"

Race shrugs. "Too busy-" He covers Elmer's ears with his hands- "Too busy fucking my husband to thing I could be gettin' on someone else too."

Albert laughs. 

The three look around at each other, all feeling a sense of completion. 

"So wait." Albert cuts into the silence. "You guys are married?"

"Yeah." Race smiles. 

"Oh."

"We're gonna marry you, too, someday. If you decide you want to." Spot adds. 

Albert laughs. "Someday, I might say yes. New question, who's the kid?"

"Foster kid. He's been with us a year."

Albert sits down on the couch next to Elmer. 

"You guys are really living the life." He says. 

"Honestly, for the last two weeks it's felt pretty empty, Al. Cause we just wanted to find you."

"What would you do if I kissed you?" Albert asked.

"I don't know. You better give it a go." Race throws out his best charming smile. 

And so maybe they kiss. And maybe Albert and Spot kiss too. And maybe they all spend their Christmas evening happier than they've ever been. 

When it's time for them to go, Albert insists he has to go back to his own apartment. 

"But why?" Elmer frowns. "I want you to stay with us and be my new dad."

Albert thinks the boy seems near tears, so he picks him up and looks him in the eyes and says, "I promise I'll come say hi tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay." Elmer gives a big, gap-toothed grin. "I love you." 

He wraps his arms around Albert and Albert knows immediately that he will do anything for this little boy. 

Elmer jumps out of Albert's arms. "We have to go home! The sooner I sleep the sooner he comes back!"

"What about Christmas?" Race asks jokingly.

"Daddy is the best present ever!" 

Albert smiles at Elmer's enthusiasm. 

"I'm glad you guys found me." Albert says, studying the floor. 

"So are we." Spot replies.

"We'll see you tomorrow?" Race can't exactly contain his excitement.

"Hell yeah." Albert nods.

"Hell yeah!" Elmer screams. 

[star-vibing-prompts]

Random quotes from different Fandoms as prompts.

Yes you can use these. Yes you can change the pronouns. Also NOTE: None of these are in particular order.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, swearing, a very long post, and maybe yandere stuff??

"I hope he didn't care about that pizza..."

"[Name], have you seen [Name] this morning?" "Yeap. He's hanging out with some weirdo. I think he's trying to vaporize [Name]."

"[Name], I blame YOU for this." "Eh, that's fair."

"Also, I cleaned up your awful, awful mess. You’re welcome." "You did WHAT?! I have a system!"

"I never asked for it to be this way. I never asked to be made!"

"Admit it. I'm just an embarrassment to you!"

"I'm not gonna let you stand there and remind me of everything I hate about myself!"

"How will StarClan come back if we keep breaking the code?"

"I really-really-like you. I've always felt that we might be mates one someday. And now that I'm a warrior, maybe this is the time for us to start thinking of each other in a new way?" "I'm sorry. I had no idea you felt like this, [Name]. I like you a lot, but I always thought of you as a friend-a really good friend, almost like another littermate. I've never felt...that way about you." "But now that you know how I feel...do you think that in time, [Name] you might feel the same way?" "I don't think so. Actually I...I like another cat. I'm so sorry, [Name]."

"Wow, [Name]. I know your thing is honesty, but come on!"

"No disrespect ma'am, but there's a big difference between pushing yourself as hard as you can, and just being reckless. And if being reckless is what gets rewarded around here, if that's what it means to be a Wonderbolt, then I don't want any part of it."

"Hey, now wait a minute! Just because I don't have a pet now doesn't mean I never want a pet!"

"Oh, that's my new toy. Pretty, isn't she? I bet I'm the only queen with my very own RainWing."

"Now really, this is getting insulting. You're in my territory. Apparently you're living under my mountain. I am only the most important dragon for hundreds of miles. How dare you not recognize me?"

"It doesn't matter what Earth is like, it's not going to be like anything soon!"

"Don't you Gems have anything better to do than annoy me?"

"Ohh, I adore these fantasies! They have the best fashions."

"Wait! I-I wouldn't have called just to waste your time with a report."

"Just being on a ship with [Name] made me tired."

"So am I gonna have to wear a star? Where am I gonna put the star?!"

"It'll be better this time. I've changed. You've changed me. I'm the only one who can handle your kind of power."

"You can't lie to me. I've seen what you're capable of. I thought I was a brute, but you... you're a monster."

"There's always someone to fight! There's just no one left worth fighting..."

"Uh, that was way more explosive than I expected."

"Someone ordered some noodles?"

"Yeah. I was about to take my break. So..."

"To be fair, do you trust any man? Any men? Men?"

"Does that mean I don't have a free room anymore? Aw, well shucks."

"OH MY GOD! My drugs! Damn it!"

"W-well I-I just wanted to look a little nicer for you. This is our first real date after all."

"I'm sorry, [Name]. I'm sorry for…everything…happening right now. I know it's…a lot. I, uh-- I should have listened."

"We're rich and we are hot. People want our money AND our bodies! Speak for yourself, princess."

"I swear… If you go near her I will destroy you!"

"I don't care what your arrogant brother thinks!"

"That. Was the sound…OF A FUCKING DIVORCE!"

"My hair is ruined!"

"My face. My face! MY FACE! GIVE ME BACK MY EYES!"

"I bet you don't even HAVE friends..."

"Your fans are watching you right now. I know."

"What's that supposed to mean, you got a problem or somethin', sour cream? Don't fuck with me!"

"Alright shit talker, but there hasn't been a soul yet who can beat me at my own game. So you better bring the fire baby!"

"Could've just used the door, dude. Doesn't need to be this whole thing."

"Do you think they saw me? Fuck! I did my make-up shitty today!"

"Oh, what does it matter?! You’re not my real dad, I was almost eighteen!"

"Totally. But since then, you've had me teaching you. You're stronger now. Don't you feel stronger?"

"I found out where it lives."

"I've won. You can all see that. We can end this now, without killing anyone. I ask you all to let him live!"

"He's just a human! He isn't a threat at all! He's not one of them!"

"I just want to go home."

"You don't understand! Just leave me alone."

"Slow down, kiddo. This is the thanks I get for checking in on my favorite student?"

"Unloaded all your secret insecurities on me! I know! But hey, no shame in that, man. Sometimes you just gotta talk it out, y'know? I don't really do it. Maybe I should. But we'd be here all day so..."

"Totally. But since then, you've had me teaching you. You're stronger now. Don't you feel stronger?"

"What we had wasn't healthy. I never want to feel like I felt with you. Never again! So just go!"

"I was terrible to you. I liked taking everything out on you. I needed to. I-I hated you. It was bad!"

"[Name], you can still wear the hat, if you want." "Thanks, but I'm not putting that on my body."

"It was an endless, crushing darkness. Wet and bleak and suffocating. Water was the tomb I lived in for those months."

"You do realize that I spent the last few months trapped under the ocean, right?"

"For a moment, I really felt like things were different, but they're not. No matter where I go, I'm trapped."

"I'm done being everyone's prisoner! Now you're MY prisoner! And I'm never letting you go!"

"Let's stay on this miserable planet, together!"

"Spoiler alert, the butter is spoiled."

"Sorry I fucked your husband."

"The FUCK is "insurance"?"

"It's only just come into existence, and it already doesn't like us."

"He can be a real sweetheart once you get to know him."

"We knew for sure you would prevail."

"I'm the monster."

"You're... going to LOVE ME!"

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, how about a game?"

"A baby dragon! Oh, I've never seen a baby dragon before. He's so cute."

"[Name], I think our work here is done." "Put your clothes on, [Name]."

"I just want everyone to know: my plan would have also worked."

"All that matters is that [Name] is happy."

"What's in these things?"

"That's not my baby!"

“If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I’d probably be a bit irritable at night, too.”

“I’m still here. I will put you back together."

[wren-kitchens]

hi hello i’m posting more unfinished stuff I probably won’t end up completing

no cw but it’s based around christmas time and there’s references to it so if you don’t wanna read that here’s your sign!

mumscarian at christmas! (no idea where they are btw it’s a vague au type thing but also not so, you know you think of the idea)

grian edges around the bank of snow, listening intently for any signs of the enemy. he reaches down slowly, to keep from making any more noise than necessary, and grabs the ammunition from the floor.

he shuffles along, wincing silently as his feet crunch in the snow. anything could give him away, in the dead quiet of the evening. he dares to peek cautiously around the bank of snow, and-

splat!

grian is struck in the face by a snowball, cold slush dripping into his scarf. from the opposite bank, he can hear victorious cackling, and mumbo appears from behind. 

“I win!” he crows. “I get to choose the movie!”

grian sighs fondly and wipes the snow from his face as he moves out from behind the pile of snow. “fine, fine. you win.”

“I told you I was a master at snowball fights.” mumbo says proudly, taking grian’s hand. “you should never have challenged me. scar was smart to stay inside.”

“scar just wanted to make gingerbread men.” grian points out. “he doesn’t care what movie we watch as long as he can bake.”

“I wonder if they’re done yet.” mumbo says. 

“I know i’m taking one even if they’re not.” grian grins. “scar makes the best gingerbread.”

“god, he does, doesn’t he?” mumbo agrees. “i’d ask him to teach me, but we all know how I am in the kitchen.”

grian laughs. “yes, we absolutely do.”

the moment they open the door, scar calls from the kitchen,

“shoes off at the door! don’t you track snow everywhere!”

grian rolls his eyes, but unties his shoes on the doormat and puts them on the radiator.

“scar, have you somehow turned the heating up more?” mumbo asks, fanning himself with his hat.

“it was cold!” scar says, voice muffled by the closed door. “it is december, i’ll have you know.”

“you’re always cold.” grian says as he hangs his coat and scarf up. luckily his jumper underneath is dry. “honestly, I don’t know why you insisted on keeping your shirt off for so long.”

“in the desert.” scar says. “it was warm in the desert.”

“not at night.” grian says, moving towards the door. “it was- ooh that looks nice.”

scar is stood in front of a pan of gingerbread men, apparently just come out of the oven. scar grins as grian as he walks in.

“I see you lost the snowball fight.” he says.

“that he did!” mumbo says from behind, walking up to the tray of biscuits.

scar slaps his hand away before he can take one. “they’re not ready yet, i’m going to decorate them.”

“well decorate them now!” grian says.

“they need to cool down first.” scar says. “you can’t- mph!” 

mumbo has pulled scar into a kiss, and is gesturing at the biscuit tray.

grian cottons on, grabbing a couple of the gingerbread men before standing back and plastering on an innocent expression as he hides them behind his back. they’re hot, but not enough to burn.

scar is blushing when mumbo pulls away. “well hello there. what was that for?”

“ah, well, you know.” mumbo is also a little pink in the face, much to grian’s amusement. “I just love you.”

“you- wait a minute.” scar turns to the biscuit tray. “hey!”

grian gives a little snort of laughter, and scar turns to them, arms folded.

“you little menaces!” he exclaims. “taking advantage of me like that!”

grian stands on his toes to kiss scar. his lips taste like gingerbread. 

“well now I feel a little better.” scar says, struggling to keep a pout on his face.

grian laughs, and hands one of the gingerbread men to mumbo, taking a bite out of his own.

“oh wow, scar.” he says, muffled by his mouthful. “these are amazing.”

“hear hear.” mumbo says. 

“they’d be better if you’d waited for me to ice them.” scar mutters, mock annoyed. “anyway, what movie are we watching?” he asks, turning to mumbo.

“oh, uh.” mumbo swallows his mouthful of gingerbread. “I can’t decide.”

“then why fight?!” grian exclaims.

mumbo shrugs, blushing. “you look cute in your scarf.”

“oh, you really do.” scar nods. “I nearly burned the cookies on account of that.”

grian huffs. suddenly, he feels a lot warmer. “well, I mean,” he mumbles, and mumbo laughs.

mumbo tilts his face up and kisses him. “very cute.”

“I can’t believe you two just want to embarrass me all the time.” grian says, but he can’t help smiling. 

“so can I choose the movie?” scar pipes up.

mumbo grins. “yeah, you can choose.”

“oh, wonderful!” scar beams. “we should watch the snowman!”

“the what?” mumbo says.

“the ‘we’re walking in the air’ one.” grian fills in.

“ohh. oh, but that ones sad!” mumbo says.

“you gave me the choice, no backsies now!” scar says. “now, who wants to help me decorate these?”

-

“mumbo, hurry up!” grian calls from where he’s buried in countless blankets on the sofa. “we’re starting without you!”

“wait for me!” mumbo shouts from the kitchen.

“what’s the betting that there’ll be no more cookies if we go back in there?” scar  says to grian.

“too high.” grian nods.

“i’m here, i’m here!” mumbo says, hurrying into the living room and plonking himself down on the sofa in between grian and scar. “you look cozy.” he says.

“I am.” grian shifts so he’s leaning against mumbo instead of the sofa arm. he steals a gingerbread man off mumbo’s plate and bites its head off. 

“rude.” mumbo protests. 

“you killed him.” scar pouts. 

“oh, just start the movie.” grian says, if only to hide how cute he thinks scar’s pouting is.

scar gives him a knowing smile, and grian feels himself blush as the film starts. mumbo puts his arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer. grian smiles as he kisses the top of his head. 

“you know,” mumbo says quietly. “I think it’s unfair that there aren’t sofas that mean we can all cuddle at once.”

“you’re just not trying hard enough.” grian says.

“oh yeah? prove it.” mumbo grins.

“you’ve started something.” scar says. “he’s not gonna stop until he’s proven his point.”

“I don’t think i mind too much.” mumbo smiles.

grian gathers all his blankets (a substantial task) and shifts so he flops over mumbo’s lap.

“I may have overestimated my strength.” grian says from underneath the mountain of blankets.

“what are you even doing?” mumbo chuckles.

“proving a point.” grian says stubbornly. 

he manages to climb his way over to scar. mumbo and scar are sat so close together, grian is able to sit across both their laps simultaneously.

“see?” he peeks his face out of the blankets to find both his boyfriends to be red-faced and laughing.

“you’re like a little worm.” mumbo grins.

“would you still love me if I was a worm?” grian widens his eyes.

mumbo bends down and presses a kiss to his forehead. “no.” he smiles.

it startles a laugh out of grian. “you’re so mean!” he exclaims as mumbo cackles.

“oh, don’t worry g, i’d still love you.” scar tells him.

“see, scar is a real boyfriend.” grian jokes.

scar kisses his cheek at the same time as mumbo, and grian turns bright pink.

scar laughs. “you’re so cute.”

[stoptellinglieslois]

Principal of pleasure part 24

Bruce is persistently calling Dick cell, Dick panics and suspect Bruce knows about them.

Superman x Nightwing pairing

Dick

"Clark it's ringing again what do I do."

"Hang on don't pick it up yet wait maybe he will stop."

"He's not gonna stop Kal this is B we are talking about."

"Do you think he knows something."

"I never had any reason to let him think I was doing anything off kilter."

"Put him on speaker."

"What why?"

"Because I want to know if he suspect something."

"But I told you no he does not know anything."

"But I'm telling you I wanna be sure ok."

"No not ok."

"Just do it."

"No."

"Please little bird don't fight with me ok we are going against the bat here I want us to think not argue."

"Ok ok fine you win but don't breath don't talk I'll put us on speaker."

I was looking at Kal I was panicking I need a minute before I picked up to answer B.

"Fuck what if he knows."

"Pick it up little bird." Kal said calmly we are sitting on the bed now and I breathed in and out to collect my thoughts, Ready myself to speak to him but it was hard what was I going to say, I told him weeks ago that I wanted to cancel the dinner party that he planed out of the blue for me and Babs and I haven't told him why I didn't even tell Kal I cancel it we haven't talk really in depth.

I answered and put Bruce on speaker the deep voice came clear on the other line.

"You're calling me none stop what's up." I said as Kal reached over and held my hand.

"Dick I haven't heard from you in a while since you cancelled the dinner party. I wanted to know if you are ok you've been distant from me." Kal looks at me startled but he stayed calm none the less.

"No I just feel like we don't need to fuss right now that's all." I fidget I wanted nothing but to end the call but I knew Bruce better.

"I didn't think you would be so quick to cancel at breakfast you've seemed ok with it I just don't want to feel like I'm imposing myself on you." Bruce said his voice carried a hint of curiosity that filled the space of the cabin.

"It's fine really me and Babs are ok." I replied trying to think of an exit the call the mention of Clark's name got my attention instantly.

"Sorry what."

"I said I think I ruined things with Clark." Bruce answered sounding a bit sad and annoyed. "I don't think I ever told you but I have feelings for Clark and at breakfast I made a move on him it didn't go well." Kal squeezed my hand and we were not expecting this confession at all, I wasn't even thinking he would go there I mean why was he going there right now.

But I couldn't stay silent for long it wasn't good I had to say anything except sounding like an angry lover. "Wow B I never knew you had those feelings for him." I didn't want to venture at all with this topic but Bruce continued.

"He said he was married and we are still friends can you believe he said that after I showed what all but god for years and years of working by his side, And to be thrown away at this type of rejection I don't know what to do I was so caught up in the moment look Dick I never had feelings for another human being before like I do for Clark." I was shock I needed to end this now Kal looked at me in the eyes as I try to look down as Bruce confess his feelings.

"Clark is married to Lois." I whispered recollecting my thoughts as Bruce was putting us on the spot.

"I feel like there is something else that's going on with him like he is hiding something." Bruce said the whole snooping thing was back on in full swing.

"Leave it alone Bruce if anything it could be something personal then he probably does not want you digging in his affairs." I said Kal looking at me lovingly what are we going to do with each other I could see we can't really be around Bruce right now.

"How are you and Barbara things are ok you two are getting along with each other." Bruce changed the subject quickly and I thought that was strange.

"Me and her are good B like I said no fuss."

"Maybe we could have dinner then the whole family then will make it just a family affair, Then how about in the evening tommorrow around seven." I looked at Kal he stared back at me and I knew my hook up at the cabin had to come to a close.

"Ok just family then."

"Let me call Clark to see if he wants to come."

"I thought it was only family."

"Dick he is family." I went silent for a few moments and stared at Kal for a few seconds. "Yeah sure that would be great." This was becoming a tangled mess.

"See you then." And the call ended. "God Bruce knows something." Kal said the expression was thoughtful. "I thought you said he does not suspect a thing." I said to him getting up and getting dress.

"Where are you going you won't leave me in the middle of nowhere again like last time. You have no car you're stuck with me here." I sighed I shouldn't have been so quick to jump out of bed and find the next exit Kal wasn't trying to leap out of a window then I shouldn't either.

I sat back down on the bed with no bottoms on I had my hoodie I unzipped it and threw it on the floor.

"I feel like Bruce wants to prob but he does not know where to start."

"Damian I don't think he told Bruce but he warned me he told me stuff, Not about Bruce but the affair how it would ruin me that Bruce would ruin me and maybe he knows his father is in love with you Kal." I looked over at him he laid down next me and looked up at the ceiling.

And then that's when Kal's cell rang.

End of part 24 next is part 25

Thank you for reading

[bayisdying]

Lucky Penny - Chapter 19

A/N: WE ARE ALMOST TO THE WEDDING GUYS

The Day Before 6:00am:

Everyone was yawning, it was early. Far too early to be awake and moving. The wedding party, the three actual parents, the four surrogate parents and Javy were at the venue getting ready to set up for the wedding.

The only problem was, the couple of the hour hadn't shown up yet.

"Who is brave enough to call them?" Dulce asked after twenty minutes passed.

"Already on it Mama Garcia." Spicy pressed 1 and started calling Lucky.

"Lucky is your #1 speed dial?" Rooster pouted.

"Shut up Chicken." Cin said, rubbing her eyes and wishing there was coffee.

"She didn't answer." Spicy sighed.

"Well I know better than to go to their house." Rueben spoke up causing everyone to laugh.

"Baylie isn't a morning person, she's probably still asleep and poor Mickey is trying to wake her up." Delilah teased. "I know his pain."

Another ten minutes passed when the door to the venue opened, revealing the happy couple.

"Coffee!" Cin jumped up noticing that her friends had four drink trays from Starbucks in their arms.

"Wow Cin, love you too." Lucky sassed.

"Hush it you, I needed this coffee."

That's when Cin realized that the cups were personalized. Lucky and Fanboy set the drinks down in front of their rightful owner. The cups were as followed.

Delilah - Mother of the Bride

Dulce - Mother of the Groom

Alejandro - Father of the Groom

Iceman - Father of the Bride

Dragon - Mother of the Bride

Slider - Father of the Groom

Whiskey - Mother of the Groom

Payback - Best Man

Rooster - Groomsman

Hangman - Groomsman

Spicy - Bridesmaid

Cinco - Bridesmaid

Javy - Mother of the Bride's Escort

"We have had these cups awhile, we were late because Starbucks was busy and we were using custom cups." Lucky explained.

Once the coffee hit their souls, they started decorating and having a little too much fun with it.

Javy had wrapped Rueben up in an extra tablecloth and Rue was pretending to be Lucky. With a high pitched voice he was going around and annoying everyone.

"Kiss me Mickey."

"Get the hell away from me Payback!" Mickey laughed and shoved his friend back.

"Fine, Spicy kiss me!"

Spicy leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"See Mickey? Spicy loves me more than you do!"

"I don't even sound like that Rue!" Lucky feigned being hurt.

"Yes you do." Jake says.

"Oh shut up Seresin."

Rooster, Slider, and Alejandro were using their height to hang the string lights around the venue.

Spicy, Whiskey and Dulce were enjoying the view of their men's asses.

Delilah, Lucky, and Ice were setting the centerpieces on the tables. Well Delilah and Ice were placing things, Lucky was going behind them and moving things around.

Fanboy and Javy were arranging the tables were the desserts would sit, and also a few tables for other displays.

Dragon and Cin were checking out the bar to make sure everything was stocked up and ready.

Lucky had snuck away to the parking lot and opened the hatch of her Jeep. There sat two boxes labeled "Daddy" she stood there for a moment and then hoisted one of the boxes into her arms.

"Want some help there Lucky girl?" Ice's voice was soft, not wanting to scare her. Of course he had noticed she was gone. She shouldn't be surprised.

"Yeah sure, you can take this one, it's heavier anyways." Lucky smiles at him.

"What's all this anyways?"

He was far too sweet to her, she hoped wherever William was he approved of Ice taking her under his wing. Loving her, taking care of her, and calling her by her childhood nickname.

"One of the displays we are having is all about William. Well and Katie is getting her own space too at the head table. But Dad is getting his own table. This is all the stuff we.." She stops before she can cry.

"Hey, no tears little lady."

That made her laugh though tears still welled in her eyes.

"This is some of the stuff he bought when he realized he wouldn't be here for this day." She finished.

They carried the boxes in and Mickey knew right away what they were.

"You ready for this cariño?"

She smirked at him, "of course I am."

-----

"Hey dad?"

"Yeah lucky girl?"

"When I get married..."

"Whoa hey, you aren't getting married anytime soon."

"Daaaad."

William laughed and pulled Baylie into a hug.

"When you get married lucky girl, it will be the best day ever." He kisses his daughter's forehead.

-----

Mickey kisses her forehead as they step back and admire their handiwork on the memorial.

"Tomorrow is going to be the best day ever." Lucky whispered.

"Yeah it will be cariño."

-----

Once the venue was completely decorated and ready, the group settled around the bar to wait for the little ones who would be joining in their special day.

Mickey's three nephews and niece were going to be the flower girl and ring security guards. They loved whenever Lucky visited them in Miami, and Alexandra was obsessed with her soon-to-be Aunt.

Lucky sat on a barstool, leaned back aganist Fanboy's chest. She was trying to focus on the conversations going on around her but her mind was elsewhere.

It wasn't until she saw something shiny out of the corner of her eye that she came back to the moment.

"Hi William." She whispered, causing everyone to look at her as she hopped off the barstool and bent over to pick up the penny off the floor.

Tears welled in most of the groups' eyes when they realized what she had picked up.

-----

At Katie's funeral, the Carter's asked Baylie if she wanted to speak. They felt like nobody else could perfectly tell their daughters story than their other daughter.

She agreed, but regretted it as soon as she took her place at the mic. With shaky hands, tears streaming down her cheeks, and a deep breath she starts.

"Katie was so much more than a friend - she was my sister."

-----

"Okay now here comes the Bride and Ice." Whiskey was directing the rehearsal, and watched as Lucky and Ice made their way down the aisle.

"And Lucky give your flowers to Katie." Whiskey said when Lucky made it to Fanboy.

Lucky turned and placed her bridal bouquet in the vase that was on the small table next to her, right next to a picture of Katie.

-----

A/N: ONLY HAPPY TEARS BITCHES

Tagging my bitches: @mrsjaderogers @mtnofgrace @callsign-dragonbaron @callmemana @kloofspeaks @cycbaby @breadsquash @roosterscockpit @notyoursbutlewis

[leatherbookmark]

shoving a fist into my mouth i unlocked the nightless city live story and

enst writing HAS NOT CHANGED A BIT its still so gotdamn... Much. they talk so much!! even when something works as subtext/something to be interpreted, nope! the character has to specify and describe their mental and emotional state in at least three more screens. metaphors are obligatory. and they still communicate telepathically while singing and dancing. good 2 know

god having it laid out in english how much koga Cares just... ouch. hurts. and this is why its kinda weird seeing people on twt talk abt how he doesn't understand rei and is wrong when he says they're alike/can Get™ each other -- no? he understands a lot and feels even more, i don't remember if everyone else in enst is so intense too but it's just :( to see him insulting and hating himself for being clueless before. like no baby!! you were earnest and trying to understand but not yet equipped!!

the part where kaoru thinks koga is in trouble with some suspicious people and decides to get him away from them, and in order to achieve this, he -- kaoru hakaze, THEE annoying heterosexual who had to "no homo, AY YES hetero wink wink" every 5 minutes Lest People Get The Wrong Idea, THIS guy -- calls koga "honey" and sweeps him away for a date. talk about fucking character development eh

further character development: "yeah i guess i need to hang out with someone or else i'll go crazy... so are we going on a date for real or?" KAORU???

further ???: "fuck off! i don't mind if it's sakuma-senpai, but definitely not someone like you!" KOGA?????

they just let people say whatever these days huh

kaoru: ugh dealing with rei is so annoying, idk how you put up with him / koga: what do you mean put up? being with him gives me energy, you don't get that too? / kaoru: wow that's. impressive. love is power huh

THEY REALLY JUST.

"we were just hanging out! if it was a date, hakaze-senpai would've taken me to a better restaurant" snorted for real

"bark!! woof woof woooooof!!!!" -- an actual quote from my beautiful boy. i think i need to consult the original text though

last but not least:

i... lovehim