#from ness

[hoshizoralone]

reflection

[stealingpotatoes]

heres a crappy venn (??) diagram explaining the dynamics in the tl4j time travel au bc it's easier than trying to write a full plot

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

you’re borrowing your boyfriend!jason todd’s…

hoodie

it’s big, it’s warm, and it smells like your big warm boyfriend. of course you stole it. luckily jason runs hot..or that’s what he tells you at least. the man gets cold too, but he’d never tell you that. not when you look so cozy in his sweatshirt.

sweats

your favorite thing of his to match with his hoodie. his sweatpants are super warm, super soft, and super baggy. meant for ultimate comfort. jason loves it when you go full out sweatsuit in his clothes. like, loves it. you’re like his own personal teddy bear to hold on to while he falls asleep. who needs sweats when he has you to keep him warm..in his.

t shirt

sometimes, when the weather’s warmer, you’ll steal one of jason’s shirts to thrown on over a pair of panties. you’re oblivious to the fact that this combination makes jason go absolutely buck wild. somehow you’ve never made the connection. but more than once he’s found you sprawled across the couch, watching tv, and ended up going down on you. his head nestled between your thighs as you grip his raven locks. his hands are fisted into the loose fabric of his shirt that you’re wearing. he’s not satisfied until your legs are shaking, your moans intermingling with the wet, borderline pornographic, sounds that he’s creating with his mouth on your clit. he never lets you get him back either, even though you know he was grinding his crotch against the couch, chasing that sweet friction and release along with you. but he always just sits you atop his lap after, kissing your cheek as he brushes your hair out of your face. grips your thigh as he makes a comment about the show playing, your panties long forgotten on the floor.

underwear

you never get very far wearing a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers. for one, they’re pretty loose on you, so you have to roll the waistband a couple times, which just gives jason a prime view of your ass. they also just make it so easy for him to get his hand down the front, his strong fingers expertly finding your clit like he’s memorized a map of your body. which, in some ways, he has. it’s not long before you’ve come, once, twice, almost a third time, and he’s pulling his own boxers off to free his stiff cock. it points out, the tip leaking, and you’re opening your legs wider without even realizing it. he grabs your waist, sliding you closer to the edge of the bed, making sure you’re ready before he slides in, burying himself in you. he bottoms out, and you’re throwing your head back, a third orgasm threatening to crest as he starts up a rhythm. the muscles of his stomach ripple as he thrusts in and out. one of his hands is on your waist, the other slowly snaking its way back down to your clit. your toes curl at the feel of his calloused thumb rubbing circles on that sensitive bundle of nerves. he’s groaning, low in his throat, at the way you look on his cock. it never gets old for him, ever. the way your cheeks flush, how adorable your blown out pupils are when you look up at him. your wet lashes, your messy hair. your entrance clenches around his cock as you come a third time, your hands gripping the bed sheets. jason comes along with you, groaning loudly as he paints your insides with white ropes of cum. he pulls out, wetting a washcloth in the bathroom. the wet, warm fabric feels like heaven against your sensitive folds, your boyfriend wiping away the mixture of fluids between your legs. you feel pleasantly boneless, sinking into the pillows at the head of the bed. your boyfriend cleans himself up after, settling into bed next to you. jason wraps his strong arms around you, and it’s better than any clothes you might steal. but what you don’t know, is that he’d let you steal his clothes anytime.

[garygoldenbignaturals]

after typing my tags on this post i wanted to see nanami in the red (yellow?) comet getup lol. and char as a duelist as well sure. blonde people am i right

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

men who want to be your dog but in a distinctly guard dog-ish, ”you can rest easy as long as i’m here, bring me with you on walks when it gets dark out and i’ll scare away anyone who comes close” way . i <3 u

[kxsagi]

i am back with another request >:3

how would the bllk men try and comfort reader when they tell her that they hate her as a joke but reader believes it because she thinks she’s very easy to hate and no one really likes her. so being in a relationship with them is surprising. can you include the itoshi brothers, kaiser, ness and whoever else you want pls 🙏🏾 tyty

“𝐢'𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰”

a/n: daily reminders that my fine shyt readers are absolutely lovable and worthy of all of the love in the world + more

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, ness alexis, mikage reo, bachira meguru, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi

itoshi rin

he says it with a deadpan tone during a teasing moment, like when you steal his fries or call him a loser for using google maps. 

“ugh. i hate you.” it’s dry, automatic, and you laugh, or so he thinks. 

but then he sees the flicker in your eyes. the way your posture drops just slightly. 

“.. .oh,” he blurts, realizing too late. 

rin’s not good with panic, so he short-circuits at first. it’s in his nature to brood and analyze, but now he’s scrambling to fix it. 

“wait, wait no. i don’t hate you. are you serious?” he pulls you close, gripping your waist like he’s grounding both of you. 

he’s quiet, sincere. “i don’t say things i don’t mean. i would never say i hated you if i meant it. you know that, right?” 

when you tell him you’re just surprised anyone could love you, rin’s face changes. 

“... what the hell are you talking about?” his voice cracks, barely above a whisper. “how could you think you’re hard to love? you’re the best thing in my entire life.” 

he doesn’t leave your side the whole day. hand in yours. lips on your forehead. he needs you to feel how much he doesn’t hate you and how much he can’t. 

itoshi sae

he says “i hate you” with a half-smirk when you win a bet or outsmart him. something casual, barely a breath. 

you laugh it off, but he notices you retreat, go quiet. 

he’s not slow, sae’s emotionally perceptive under all that apathy. 

“... you know i didn’t mean that, right?” he asks, eyes flicking to you while he’s scrolling on his phone. 

you brush it off, but he puts the phone down. “look at me.” 

his tone is even, but his eyes are gentle. “you think i’m the type to date someone i don’t actually care about?” 

when you admit it’s just hard to believe someone like him could love someone like you, sae physically flinches. 

“don’t ever say that again,” he murmurs, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. 

“you’re kind. you’re funny. you’re smart. i could go on, but i’d rather just keep showing you why you’re everything i want.” 

after that, he doesn’t just say he loves you more. he shows it. kisses on the shoulder. forehead touches. hand on your lower back whenever you pass by. 

kaiser michael

he says it dramatically, mid-argument over something dumb like who left the toothpaste cap off. 

“ugh, i hate you.” paired with the most flamboyant eye-roll. 

you try to laugh, but your voice wavers. and he clocks it instantly. 

“liebling?” he calls, voice dropping all theatrics. 

when you hesitate, he goes from 100 to 0 in two seconds. arms already around you. 

“hey. hey, no. i was joking. i thought we were being dramatic together.” 

and when you say, “it’s fine. i get it. i wouldn’t like me either,” his whole world flips. 

“what the fuck?” he says, not out of anger, but sheer heartbreak. 

“baby, who told you that? who made you believe that?” 

he cups your cheeks and leans in, forehead pressed to yours. 

“you’re literally the only person on this earth who can put up with me. of course i like you. love you.” 

for the next few weeks he’s overly sweet. he sings cheesy songs to you, buys you flowers, tells ness to remind you every hour that kaiser thinks you're amazing. 

ness alexis

he says “i hate you” in a joking whine when you won’t let him pick the movie or steal the last cookie. 

he doesn’t expect it to land. you always laugh. 

but this time, he sees you shrink. 

“noooo, nonono, i’m sorry!! i didn’t mean it!” he throws himself dramatically on top of you. 

you try to laugh it off, but he sits up, real concern on his face. 

“... did that really hurt your feelings?” 

when you nod, even a little, ness pulls you into the biggest hug possible. 

“you’re my favorite person in the entire universe,” he mumbles into your shoulder. “don’t ever think otherwise.” 

when you admit that sometimes it’s just hard to believe someone could like you, he grips your hands. 

“you’re funny, and warm, and thoughtful, and you give the best hugs. i’d be lost without you, okay?” 

you get a whole night of comfort snacks, kisses, and cuddles while he reassures you in five different languages (he googled them). 

mikage reo

says “ugh, i hate you” after you tease him about being rich or wearing expensive moisturizer. 

when you don’t react, he blinks. pauses. “wait. baby?” 

he gets serious fast. drops the playful persona. 

when you confess you thought he might mean it, his expression falters. 

“you know how many people love me for my money or my name?” he says, tone serious. “but you love me for me. that means everything.” 

he’s the type to go all-out in comforting you. he immediately plans a spa day or a surprise picnic to cheer you up. 

but at night, it’s just the two of you and he quietly whispers, “i wish you could see yourself the way i do.” 

bachira meguru

jokes “i hate you” when you prank him or make fun of his monster drawings. 

you laugh, but your face tightens just enough for him to notice. 

“... wait. wait. do you think i meant that?” 

when you shrug, he gets really quiet. 

“hey.” he hugs you so tight, it’s like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “i don’t hate you. i love you. i love you so much it freaks me out sometimes.” 

he pulls you into his lap and holds your face. “you’re not hard to love. you’re the easiest thing i’ve ever loved.” 

he’ll paint you a picture the next day. it says “i love you, silly” with a monster giving you a flower. 

shidou ryusei

says it way too casually, like “ugh i hate you” when you block his goal or steal his protein bar. 

but when you go still, quiet, he feels weird. 

“... wait. you know i was messing around, right?” 

you say, “it’s okay, i get it,” and he freezes. 

“the hell do you mean, ‘you get it’? no, you don’t get to get it.” 

shidou’s comfort is blunt, but honest. he sits you down, grabs your hand, and makes you look at him. 

“you think i’d be dating you if i didn’t think you were the shit?” 

“babe, i don’t do things i don’t want to. and i want you. period.” 

then he wrestles you into a hug and bites your cheek gently like a weirdo. “mine. forever. you hear me?” 

nagi seishiro

he says “i hate you” lazily when you drag him out of bed or interrupt his game. 

it’s not even mean – just groggy, like, “ugh, i hate you for making me move.” 

usually you laugh, but today? your face falls just slightly. 

you try to play it off. he narrows his eyes. 

“... wait. are you mad?” he asks, tilting his head. 

when you finally admit it’s not the first time you’ve believed someone could hate you… nagi just stares. 

and then says, “that’s dumb.” 

not in a mean way — in a “how could anyone think that?” kind of way. 

“you’re the only person i like being awake for,” he mumbles, flopping onto you like a weighted blanket. 

“if you were easy to hate, i’d still be single and gaming in peace. but i’m not. i’m with you. because you make me feel happy in a way no game ever could.” 

he clings tighter, like you’re a giant body pillow. and every few minutes he mumbles, “don’t ever think like that again.” 

you end up staying in bed all day, not because he’s lazy, but because he won’t stop hugging you. 

isagi yoichi

says “i hate you” jokingly when you beat him at a shooting game or call him a nerd for memorizing world cup stats. 

it’s lighthearted… until your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. 

“wait. hey. that was a joke,” he blurts, the second you shift away. 

you tell him it’s fine, that you’re just used to not being liked, so it’s whatever. 

“what?” he sounds like you just punched him. “no. no. you don’t get to say that about yourself.” 

he sits you down, hands on your shoulders, looking frantic. 

“you’re– okay, listen. i love you. i love you so much, and i don’t care if it sounds dramatic. how could you ever think you’re hard to love?” 

his voice gets quieter, a little trembly. “i’ve never felt this way about anyone. you’re sweet and smart and you make me feel like i can breathe even when everything else is stressful.” 

he hugs you for a long time. arms locked tight. 

and for the next week, he texts you things like “i love you more than my right foot” or “if i had to pick between you and soccer… i’d pick you, no hesitation.” 

okay, maybe a little hesitation. but he swears you win. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[garlicboyart]

yo, i'm not even wearin' a helmet!!

[determunition]

you can tell when i get really busy, not because i don't post as much but because i suddenly start drawing my blorbos being fuckign sleepy as hell lmao

anyway i should draw these two hanging out more often, they've got that narrative foil vibe yk

[ivoryratdoggerythethird]

ok but bsd chapter 114 revealing the flipside of the soukoku dynamic in all its glory like *chef's kiss*

turns out that when the mission's (almost) done and you put skk in a room with no witnesses they just become each other

dazai is the one unable to stay still, agitated and wearing his emotions openly and very much stressing about a plan he can't understand (how the tables do turn), literally YELLING and RUNNING of his own violation and doing actual labor of pulling out "fyodor" from beneath a whole ass helicopter while injured without asking for help because the brawns of the team is actually secretly a black cat character

insane how chuuya makes dazai look like the overactive dog archetype here like Mister Gravity Control and I Crack Walls & Chains With One Kick is just sitting full-on cheek on fist poker face watching his beanpole of a partner struggle. his health bar is like full too besides the brief drowning stint meanwhile he himself shot dazai like three times after he crawled out of a crashed elevator

(chuuya is actually such a little shit it's amazing like it was kinda shown in him just letting kunikida blow himself up without even trying to take on tecchou or as if he couldn't just fly the helicopter away with his ability? the pm's trump card, stronger half of soukoku? mans said "boss told me come get you" and by god that is the only job he will do, overtime means nothing to him because he can't read, what a king)

chuuya is literally only willing to do the BARE minimum it's hilarious like he's done his part, he's given the Oscar-winning vampire performance of a lifetime, now he's pulling a dazai-at-the-ADA and simply refusing to work like. chilling in the back while dazai monologues and fyodor dies. bouncing sigma like a tennis ball. chilling a corner while dazai brainstorms. leisurely following dazai's running. chilling in the back while dazai huffs and puffs to pull out the body.

the biggest bsd plot twist is that soukoku on and off the battle field just switch roles for who's lounging like a bored princess while the other toils and actually does the work. if they both ever actually work on something at the same time yokohama would probably explode.

[caluette]

everybody SMILE!!! 📸

[miyamiwu]

How to say “I love you” in Blue Lock

I don’t really want to play soccer, but being with you isn’t a pain, so it’s fine.

Now that I can fight without you, being with you is even more fun

And then there’s this asshole...

I made it this far because of you. Since you allowed me to play soccer freely, I’ve grown this strong on Bastard München. But I can’t climb any higher that way. I figured that out in this match, I no longer need the freedom you give me. Forget about me, Ness. Find yourself a new king. It’s easier for me to live in restriction.

[ineffable-romantics]

Thank GOD for those new promo pics.... I've always said this was the way I picture Aziraphale in modern day if he'd been the demon instead, and now I have the perfect angel!Crowley to match!

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

pt. 2

you just saw your ex boyfriend, dick grayson, for the first time since he broke up with you.

you ran into him on the street.

no, like, literally ran into him.

you were walking your mom’s dog for her, a german shepherd she got when you moved out. she’d aptly named him trouble. despite his name, trouble was usually a mellow guy, even if he was huge. walking him was just another thing you were doing to try and ignore the thoughts constantly pounding out a beat in your head.

oh, dick would think this is funny! that’s dick’s favorite color, i should buy it! dick and i should go there on our next date!

and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and-

anyways, you were definitely trying to keep yourself busy.

any time a memory popped up in your brain of him—

laughing at your jokes, holding you close while you fell asleep, kissing your neck while he thrust into you

—you’d empty the dishwasher, paint your nails, (any color but blue) turn on reality tv, read a book, stuff your face, whatever.

anything to stop fucking thinking about him and his stupid blue eyes and his dumb smile.

you’d been been watching the news, sprawled across the couch. just the regular gotham news: don’t use main street, mr. freeze’s ray iced out the pavement. the iceberg lounge had been raided by the police for the third time this month. the justice league defeated yet another extraterrestrial threat to humanity, blah, blah, blah. you weren’t really watching. the news program ended, and the next one started. a gotham gossip show. they were doing a special segment on the wayne family.

of course they fucking were. even your tv was conspiring against you. you had to resist the urge to chuck the remote at it.

you turned it off instead, heading to your room to get ready for a run.

(running for exercise or running from your thoughts?)

your mom had asked you to take trouble right before you’d walked out the door, and so you grabbed him and his leash and headed out. you’d forgotten the bags for his poop, but you didn’t think you would be out that long, so you just kept on going.

you were wearing the leggings dick had bought you, ones he joked should be a specific blue color. you hadn’t understood then, but you more than understood now. it was warmer, and so you just had on an old sports bra on top, and some converse.

you were not the athletic type. that was dick. probably still was. you wouldn’t really know.

you hadn’t talked since it happened, like three or four weeks ago.

time had become a little fuzzy. your mom said you could stay with her as long as you needed, but you were starting to get the itch to move out.

nothing against your mom, it’s just hard to sob really loudly into a pint of ice cream when she’s there.

and she keeps trying to wash the one shirt of dick’s you still have. you know, fully well, how dumb it is, (and a little gross) but you’re still wearing his shirt every night to bed. and maybe it’s all in your head, but it still smells like him. you aren’t ready to wash it. besides, now that you’re sleeping by yourself, you’re pretty sure it’s helping you fall asleep. something that was hard to do the first few nights without your big warm boyfriend next to you in bed.

it probably isn’t good for you, to keep wearing his shirt.

you’d had your hand between your thighs more than once late at night thinking about being enveloped in his scent. your nights were haunted with thoughts of his body over yours, his phantom voice in your ear. calling you angel, asking you if this was heaven, like the last time you’d had sex.

it definitely isn’t good for you.

but neither is life without dick grayson.

you try not to dwell on the fact that dick had given you a sort of non-reason for the breakup. sure, it got lonely sometimes, or you got anxious for your masked boyfriend, so you cried. so what if your patience wore thin after a few too many “i’m sorry, angel, i can’t make it this time”-s.

you were human!

but you’d never, never once complained about his absence or his commitments to his family.

never.

he’d just assumed you were silently suffering and it really irked you if you thought about it for too long. you still weren’t sure if you were mad at him or sad, or whatever. it felt like your brain couldn’t decide on an emotion so you just got twelve at once. but what you did know for sure was that he was 110% worth it to you. you just wish he’d realize that. see that. instead of just the times you were a little emotionally strung out. your ex boyfriend was too willing to sacrifice his own mental health for the sake of yours and you were sick of it. but you didn’t know if you had the courage to say that to him. or even see him, after the way this breakup had hit you.

your friends had managed to get you out of the house, a few times now.

you’d gotten almost too drunk every time, escaping your friends and going outside to get some air. this time, you saw a guy that looked just enough like dick, and it’d all been too much. so you got out of there. you sat yourself down on the curb, looking up at the hazy rooftops. you were always looking up. always.

and since the break up, you’d noticed the vigilantes of your city more often. maybe there was more criminal activity. maybe you were just paying more attention than you used to.

you’d seen spoiler and orphan, pounding the pavement behind you to run after some seedy looking guy holding a briefcase. you think spoiler tried to high five you on the way past, but there was no way. you wrote it off as your memory embellishing things.

you were pretty sure red hood had nodded at you before disappearing down a fire escape on the other side of the building.

your mom had recently gotten a delivery of security cameras for her house. but she hadn’t ordered them. the shipping address had only the address of some warehouse on the dock, the name just, ‘R.R.’ you’d set the cameras up, but you and your mom both were still baffled about it.

and here, sitting on the curb, you were staring at what looked like a dark figure crouched on the rooftop opposite. they’d been there when you’d entered the club, too.

you squinted, trying to make out shoulders and suit colors, when they stood up, and the light bounced off his shiny cowl.

fucking batman?

you shook your head, trying to shake your drunk brain like an etch-a-sketch. there was actually no way.

a smaller figure, one you hadn’t seen behind the shape of batman (!?) pulled a weapon, a gleaming silver sword, and pointed it at you. your head spun. batman (there was no way) shook his head at robin. he sheathed his sword, throwing his hands up in what looked like annoyance. you blinked, and they were gone.

you weren’t really sure if it had happened or not. you’d been trying not to think too hard about the fact that you still hadn’t seen nightwing. you’d really been trying.

so instead, you were walking your mom’s dog.

trouble had, in fact, pooped, and you were frantically looking around for something to pick it up with. gotham was already shitty enough without the addition of, well, literal shit. the streets were busy, but not crowded, and someone down the block whistled for a cab, catching your attention. you turned, and at the same time, trouble jerked your arm, pulling you backwards into someone walking on the sidewalk. the stranger made a choked sound.

“trouble??”

your heart stopped. you held your breath, turning around.

trouble was at attention, looking up at your ex-boyfriend with his head cocked.

dick’s eyes were wide. his hair shorter than you remember. he leaned down to scratch trouble behind the ears, his biceps and shoulder muscles in hard relief. are you dreaming? you didn’t recognize the shirt he had on, but he was wearing your favorite jeans of his, and his matching converse. your mouth felt like a desert.

trouble trails around the two of you, the leash long. he loves your ex-boyfriend, you know he won’t go anywhere.

“did you cut your hair?” you take a step forward. dick does too.

“i-” he clears his throat. “i did. do you like it?” he shifts his eyes, his cheeks bright pink.

you make a show of looking it over. he turns his head so you can see it from all angles. like he always did when he got a haircut.

your chest hurts.

you nod approvingly, flashing him a weak smile.

“it looks really nice. you’re very-” your face heats as you stop yourself. “it looks very handsome.”

that’s an understatement. you would’ve climbed him like a tree the minute he’d come home looking like that. the way his biceps were bulging out of his shirt sleeves could not be good for his circulation. it was great for yours, your heart was beating a mile a minute.

dick smiles down at you, stepping forward again.

“thanks.” he looks down, taking in your outfit. “nice leggings, ang-” he’s cut off when trouble spots a squirrel and darts, barking wildly. the problem is, trouble had been walking his leashed self around you and dick.

you’re now chest to chest with your ex boyfriend in the middle of a sidewalk, tied to him by rope. you vaguely hear trouble whine at the way his collar bit into his neck from the leash pulling taut. you didn’t even have the time to process the fact that he had almost called you angel. which was probably a good thing.

you’re breathing heavily, while dick doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

he’s put his arms around you on instinct, and you hate the way you feel like you’re home. a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden closeness, and dick peers down at you through half-lids. your mouth dries up again. you suddenly feel indignant.

“you are not allowed to breakup with me and then show up and look at me like that!” you hiss at him.

you would throw up your hands in exasperation if they weren’t basically pinned to dick’s body. a smile breaks across his face, his bright blue eyes telling you everything you need to know. he stares at you, studying you. you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating.

“alfred taught me a new recipe.” he blurts, his hand clutching at your back.

he’s adorable. but you school your face and raise an eyebrow at him.

“..oookay?”

dick blushes, his face sheepish. “i could make it for you, if you wanted.”

“what i want is an apology.” you look him up and down.

your ex boyfriend grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “understandable.”

“on your hands and knees. i think this is one of those begging-for-my-forgiveness type situations, don’t you think?”

dick nods, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. his eyes flash.

“you don’t have to worry about getting me on my knees.”

one heartbeat pounds behind your ribs, the other one between your legs. you huff out a weird sort of nervous laugh.

“oh, i’m not joking.” his lips curve up in a smile, one you know very well. he obviously plans to make up on lost time.

you forgot how charming he was. you have to practically force yourself to breathe. you’d do anything to have the real thing over his old t-shirt. you give yourself a mental shake.

he can flirt all he wants, but what about your heart? you look up at him, and his face softens, his pupils huge.

“can you get us untangled?”

dick nods, whistling for trouble. he frees an arm and grabs trouble’s collar, guiding him back around so the leash falls to the sidewalk. you step back, taking a deep breath. you’re cold at the sudden loss of his body heat. it’s a harsh reminder of reality. you grab trouble’s leash, having him sit. you look at your ex boyfriend.

“thanks.” you take another deep breath. “can you promise me something, though?”

he nods, his face serious. “anything. anything at all.”

“promise you won’t break my heart again?” you hold out your pinky finger.

dick coughs, surprised at your words. he looks down, taking a shaky breath. he’s in disbelief, he’s ecstatic, he’s on top of the world, he…has a lot of apologizing to do.

when he looks back up to offer up his own pinky, his eyes are shining. the sight makes your heart melt. you take his finger in yours, beaming up at him.

he gives you a soft smile in return. “i promise.”

you take your hand back, feeling the most hopeful you have in a month.

a breeze picks up, and the whiff you get reminds you of your earlier predicament. you look down. dick looks down too.

shit. literally.

you forgot about the fact that trouble had used the sidewalk as a toilet.

“is that trouble’s?” he asks.

you nod, making a face. “i forgot the poop bags.”

“rookie mistake.” dick shakes his head, smiling. you look him up and down, and then turn, walking back the way you came.

“text me about that recipe!” you lift your hand in a wave.

“but-..uh, the shit?” he calls after you.

“that’s alllll you, baby!” you yell back, practically skipping away. you feel like you’re floating.

[ruporas]

kisses of affirmation (ID in alt)

[a-sadclown]

doodle page :o)

[fisheito]

cool hat