#stop sniffing glue

[tommygotwrittenoff]

also in case anyone ever says buddie arent the two most stupid people to ever exist, just remember the bachelor call where buck sniffed glue to make sure it was glue and then eddie took it from him and also sniffed it

[mrbrightxside]

Artistic depiction of my brain when I read that you would be okay with drawing requests.

So I come to you with my Eltingville oc in the hopes you could perchance draw her. Your style is sososo amazing it genuinely blows me away how accurately you can draw the characters and i would love to see this freak in your style!

My best drawings of her are ship art with Pete but its completely up to you if you want to draw the freaks together or not! Thank you so much!!! ♡

Your wish is granted 💯

HAHA I love the little artist depiction, I chuckled. I love your OC so much and loved drawing these two ‼️ I hope you like this and enjoy the stupid extra corner last minute, your art is so good btw :0 and thank you so much I'm flattered with the compliments 🫶

[theeminentlyimpractical]

[connecticutsunblog]

ok ok ok ok.. Natasha Cloud and Bec Allen? I'll take it! Frankly until the actual facilities/team is invested in seriously (or the Sun move to Boston) I think this is a best case scenario, unforch.

fuck! Ty Harris too?!?!

[macchiatosdumptruck]

Someone hit me over the head with a giant cartoon mallet so I can sleep for the next 48 hours

[giuseppe-yuki]

secret admirer

1st grade teacher!max verstappen x 1st grade teacher! reader

w.c.: 1.9k

warnings: none :)

summary: a rose appears on your desk every day. who is it from??

a/n: i know it's edited but glasses max has me in a CHOKEHOLD!!!! anyways, mini fic while ya'll wait for the promised spiderman!au fic (i'm still working on it...)

mini accompaniment: good idea..?

picture credits from pinterest :)

there’s a single rose on your desk - a pretty swirl of soft pink petals that still has that faint sweet smell. 

it sits neatly on your stack of graded addition-papers, right atop aurelia's perfect-score paper. 

at first, you had thought that it was from one of you adventurous first-graders, jack or tina, who had climbed up onto the rose-bush hills and plucked a single flower to put on your desk. it wasn’t rare, of course, for your students to give you gifts. (you still had that rock that your student from a few years ago, logan, had given to you on your desk)

you had even asked your class, standing in front of all of them with the roses in hand, asking who had picked them.

they had all shared that devious look only first-graders could make, covering their giggly mouths with a hand, and refused to elaborate. 

only gabriel, or bubbles, as many called him, had raised his hand and said, ”it wasn’t us because i saw someone down the hall come in with a flower for you,” before isack, who sat next to him on the colored square carpet, slapped his glue covered hand in front of gabriel’s mouth and announced, “no, we didn’t see anything, missus teacher.”

weird. 

a white rose sits on your desk today, its pure petals almost glowing from the sunlight filtering through your window. 

you poke at it, as if it could just magically reveal who had placed it there. you even consider sniffing it really hard in a moment of desperation, as if the scent of the giver would somehow be there. 

however, the pitter-patter of sparkly flats and light-up shoes squeak through the hallway, accompanied by the loud chatter of your first grade students stop you from performing such a stupid-sounding act. 

they’re obviously not supposed to be inside where you are, sorting their coloring worksheets, but rather supposed to be outside on the play-yard with the rest of the first graders. of course, when have 1st graders ever listen to adults, anyways?

the scuffling of several pairs of shoes stop in front of your closed door. 

ollie’s voice drift through the cracks of the door first.

“you open the door,” he says in a whisper-that’s-not-so-quiet.

a second accented voice echoes through. “no you open the door, ollie, you’re the one who wanted to come here first!”

right away, you clock it as ollie’s inseparable best friend, kimi.

a third voice resonates through the classroom through the crack under the door. 

“don’t be a idiot, kimi, you both wanted to come back to the classroom.” 

doriane.

“hey! don’t be meanie, doriane, that is a bad word!”

”well, you and kimi both have cooties, anyways.”

the sound of someone bursting into tears. 

at that point, you shoot out of your chair, leaving the rose atop a quite frankly, badly colored picture of a dinosaur. 

slowly, you open your classroom door to find doriane and maya standing with their arms crossed, facing an angry-looking kimi who was holding up a bawling ollie.

”what’s going on here, guys?” you ask, crouching down to look them in the eyes. “why did you guys come back into the classroom when you guys should be out in the play-yard with your friends?”

ollie wipes the tears from his big brown eyes with the back of his hand before shooting forward, out of kimi’s grip. 

“i just wanted to tell you, that me, and maya, and kimi, and doriane were playing tag- and guess what!” 

“what,” you respond, just to appease him. 

“we heard- “ he looks around nervously- “that the teacher from room 33 down the hall called you gor- gor-“

”gor-jus!” maya interjects helpfully. 

kimi and doriane nod aggressively. 

“did he?” you respond slowly. “that’s very interesting, guys, thanks for telling me that. now go run along back to the playground, because you guys still have five minutes of recess left, okay?”

they beam, and echo you’re welcomes before scurrying back down the hall.

hmm.

a yellow rose sits on your desk this time, thornless, but with a single spiky leaf on its stem. it fits in the pot real nicely with the other two roses, even though they are different colors. 

you almost zone out looking at the flowers, before you feel a little hand grasping your shirt and pulling. 

jack stands next to you with a piece of paper and a shy smile. 

quickly snapping out of your trance, you scoot closer towards him on your wheely chair and lean forwards him. 

“hiya jack,” you say, encouraging him to speak up. “did you want to show me something?”

”yeah,” he says simply, before turning his paper around. 

it’s…something. 

“wow, that’s very nice, jack,” you respond, trying to decipher and piece together exactly what the five big pink and blue squares, two circles, and random black scribble on the side were supposed to mean. 

“it’s a car,” he states matter-of-factly. “it’s ‘cause i want to be a race-car driver when i gr-“

before he can finish his sentence, bianca runs up behind him like a secret-agent before shoving him out of the way. 

“hey, i want to show missus teacher my paper,” she snaps.

almost immediately, you leap up to catch jack before he stumbles and falls head-first into the trash can placed  next to your desk. 

“bianca,” you chastise. “we do not push, we wait our turn, okay?” 

she frowns, whispering a quick ‘sorry’ to jack. 

“that’s o-k,” jack says, smiling kindly, before walking away to show somebody his abstract shapes/car drawing. 

bianca shoves her picture in your lap the moment you sit back down.

it’s beautifully drawn, and you would definitely paste it on your “artist superstar” board in the corner of your classroom, except for the fact that there was two figures, one clearly with a rose in its hand, embracing another figure with a blue shirt and yellow-crayon colored hair. 

“that’s you,” she explains, pointing to the figure with the red rose. “and that,” she says, pointing to the mysterious other figure, “is your secret friend that likes you.” 

“oh!” you respond. 

right, okay. 

a velvet red rose shows up on your desk half-way through the next day. it’s in perfect bloom, petals opening to a perfect rounded shape. 

as pretty as it is, you almost forget about it, only because of the fact that your class was being well-behaved, unlike normal.

they actually listen as they sit quietly on their own little carpet squares, whiteboards in hand, as you begin your lesson on the three properties of matter at the front of the classroom.

it doesn’t last very long, however. you’re halfway through explaining how ice cubes can go from the solid form to the liquid form, when you start hearing whispering from the back row. 

liam, with, like, twenty goofy little lightening mcqueen stickers stuck all over his shirt, squeals in laughter as he scribbles something on his white-board, causing the kids around him to laugh. 

you sigh, setting down your own marker, before turning back around. time to confiscate whiteboards. 

“liam, please give me your white-board,” you declare as kindly as you can. 

“no!” he screeches stubbornly as he ferociously scribbles something on the board again.

you have to almost snatch the board away from his surprisingly strong grip with excess force.

on it, instead of the water droplet diagram like everyone else, he has drawn a big heart, complete with your initials, a plus sign, and a big fat MV next to it. 

what. 

gathering all the clues together from your students like you were some type of detective, you are certain you know who has been giving you the roses. there was only one person down the hall, in room 33, who always wore a blue shirt with blond-ish hair that had the initials mv. 

you stroll down the hall during recess the next day, when ollie and kimi and jack and all the little troublemakers are outside jumping rope and playing tag.

when you peer into the window of the 1st grade classroom located at the end of the hall, you spot a familiar man sitting in a swirly chair in the corner of the room. aside from you, he was one of the only other 1st grade teachers at the school. you hadn’t really talked to him much- just limited conversations in the teacher break room or quick greetings the hallways.

he’s scrunched over his desk, lamp setting his blonde hair alight into golden strands. the glasses that sit atop his nose slide down his sloped nose, which he quickly corrects by lifting his hand and pushing it back up to its correct position. 

huh. you suppose he was kind of cute. 

max, or mr. v, like all the students call him, jerks rather violently when you stick your head into the doorway his race-car themed classroom and wave a hello. the glasses he wears skew crooked, and the half-open can of redbull that he has on the corner of his desk almost goes flying onto the checkered rug that he has placed on the floor.

“oh, i’m so sorry, max, didn’t mean to scare you there!” you apologize, watching as he snatches the silver and blue can with lightning fast reflexes before shoving it haphazardly behind a stack of ungraded papers. 

“no, no, you’re okay,” he says much too quickly, fixing his glasses. “i was, just, you know, sitting around, um, here.” 

there’s a slight lisp to his voice that you hadn’t noticed before. it curls around you in a surprising yet comforting way. you kinda liked it. 

”right,” you affirm. “well, i hope you don’t mind me interrupting your, er, sitting around time, but i’ve been receiving this kind gift from a certain someone and i was wondering if you could help me find them.”

you reveal the small bouquet of multicolored flowers from behind you, tied neatly with a piece of ribbon from your supply bin. 

max’s eyes widen just a fraction behind his square-framed glasses. his cheeks flush a pretty pink. 

“oh!” he stutters out. “i-i-wouldn’t really know anything about that, um i don’t think.” 

max scratches at his neck awkwardly. 

you laugh. 

”max, i know it’s you. somehow, my 1st graders picked up on it before me, which is kind of crazy, but they kind of snitched on you.”

he turns even redder. 

“i’m sorry,” he blurts out. “i hope it’s not weird- it’s just that i think i really like you, and that my friend charles suggested i give you a gift sometime, but i keep getting caught up in the classroom but also get too scared to give you the flowers and i thought-“

“-max,” you say, cutting him off. “it’s okay, i don’t mind at all- i thought it was really sweet. i haven’t had a chance to know you very well, but i’d love to know you better. we can do my house, this weekend? i’d really like some tips on how to deal with rowdy 1st graders!”

you add in a reassuring smile.

”yes!” he snaps as soon you finish talking. “wait, sorry, i meant um, i would love to,” he quickly adds.

”great!” you beam. ”it’s a date then!”

he smiles shyly at you. 

“it’s a da-“

a sudden screech cuts off max halfway, leading the both of you to turn towards the doorway. 

somehow, ollie, kimi, doriane, and maya have snuck inside again. they stand there, wide-eyed, at the scene.

doriane points an accusing finger at you.  “ewww!!!!” she yells at the top of her lungs. “that’s disgusting! you’re going on a date with a boy! he’s gonna give you cooties!”

[marycorcaroli]

sanji & usopp as a pussy drunk boyfriends ♡

req: Those pussy drunk Zoro/Luffy blurbs were so fucking good omg!!! Could you do one with Sanj pleasei? He's PEAK character for this scenario!!

mary♡: thank you for sending me a request and thank you for the lovely words! 🍡💛 i decided to write this right away and not wait any longer, i also decided to include usopp here, hope you like it! also i apologize for my mistakes, english is not my first language 💌

sanji

sanji is so neat but too impatient when it comes to licking you. from the first time you met him he only dreamed of spreading your legs and doing everything he could to your clit, sanji imagined it night after night until the moment he could finally show you he would show you the most real orgasm with his tongue. he will start with something small, he will slowly kiss your wet folds while unbuckling his belt to touch his cock, sanji is so pathetic, you just let him lick you and he is ready to cum. when he does pull his cock out - you're dead. my boy, he grabs you firmly by the hips and literally glues you to his face, he burrows into you like he hasn't drank water in months, greedily kissing your cunnie, he starts whimpering from you and your moans, you're making him really pathetic. he tries to burrow as deep into you as he can to taste all of your flavor, his fingers rubbing your nipples as he waits for the moment of your squirt. he will speed up his tongue with every second, he won't let time just pass, sanji will make sure it's just him and his tongue in your head at the end.

"sanji, please, i-i'm-i'm coming now," blows his mind. he has waited so long for those words tears run down his cheeks, you are the most beautiful girl to him and now he is licking you. his legs start shaking and his whimpering doesn't stop until the next moment you scream "sanji!" squirting on his face. you blessed him with it, he felt like he hadn't felt yet n when thinking about it, sanji didn't notice how he was cumming all over your bed and you at the same time, you caught him in the most interesting role, without even touching him he cum from you and will do it again and again. he doesn't care how much you're trembling and your legs are woozy, he just can't get away from you, sanji swallows all your juices and smears the rest on his face and looks in the mirror to realize he's found paradise between your legs and won't leave until he faints.

usopp.

my sweet boy and my sunshine loves your cunnie so much. his tongue is so soft and nice, he will do the naughtiest things to you that you could never dream of. usopp is like a man who will dream about someone's pussy all the time, he won't hear conversations, he wants to lick you now and here. he will cry with happiness as soon as you let him get on his knees and lick you completely, he will be so happy that he will completely forget about tenderness and decency, he suddenly doesn't care, now, he only thinks about you, your moans and your already swollen clit. usopp has lost all other thoughts, he starts licking you in a second, you haven't had time to undress yet, but that's even better for him, he'll wet your panties with his drool and pornographic moans, and sniff the residue like he's sniffed something forbidden, something that will take him to the most obscene place in this universe. there is so much lust in him, usopp can't hear your moans anymore, he can hear your wet cunnie responding to him, the way your clit pulses when he touches it with his nose and the way your body twitches when he finds all your hot spots again. it's like usopp is in heat, he can't live without your juices and the opportunity to lick you anywhere, he'll get so cranky and beg you "no, please let me...i-i'll make you feel good, i beg you", it'll go on and on until you say yes and he'll stop. swallowing everything you give him and he still can't get enough, he literally wants to eat you to savor the taste of your cunt. his tongue won't stop surprising you with its skill, and his nose won't stop hitting you in the points where you need it. usopp is waiting for you to cum all over his face, the juices are running down his body and the lustful phrases keep coming out of his filthy mouth, he's covered in your cum, his body lost in the moment you cum and now he's waiting for you to get on all fours and let him eat your ass.

[nighting-crow]

Modded Followers (Plus Crow and Sorayne) as Incorrect Quotes

Nebarra on his first day as a lawyer: Mothers and fuckers of the jury...

*My chemical romance stars playing* Auri: Omg you emo  Aurlyn, pointing to Lucifer: It's his playlist!  Auri, Aurlyn and Lucifer all start singing: Lucien: Hey, where you at? Lydia: My limit. I'm at my FUCKING limit.

Gore: If karma doesn't hit you, I fucking will.

Lucifer: Kaidan Brought five guys home I'm so excited! Lucifer: Clarification, five guys is a restaurant chain that specializes in gourmet burgers and fries. Lucifer: I'm not having an orgy.

Xelzaz: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast? Auri: Several traffic violations. Varrick: Three counts of resisting arrest. Val: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. Ashe: Also, that’s not our car.

Kaidan, glaring at Caryalind's coffin: We are gathered here today because SOMEBODY. Couldn't stay alive.

Val: What’s wrong? You look 10 seconds away from ripping someone’s throat out. Gabrielle: Fucking Gore and Lucifer were trying to invoke one of the minor gods again last night. I didn't get an ounce of sleep, thanks to their bloody chanting.

Ashe: Wait, is Baja Blast a real thing? I thought all of you were talking about masturbating. Khash: The way it tastes, we might as well be.

Xelzaz: What is wrong with you? Gabrielle: Loaded question. Elaborate.

Kaidan: *sees someone doing something stupid* Kaidan: What an idiot. Kaidan: *realizes it's Caryalind* Kaidan: Wait, that's MY idiot!

Gore: What doesn't kill me better start running, because now I'm fucking pissed.

Val: If I may interject... Aurlyn: Oh, awesome, Val was eavesdropping.

Inigo: Drunk driving IS cringe unless you're doing it sexually like a fetish? Remiel: W-what?! Ashe: Yeah, I'll incorporate that into my belief system.

Ashe: If we lose, you’re out of the will. Inigo: I was in the will?

Crow: I’m sick and tired of being called 'mortal' like, you don’t know that. Neither do I. I have never died even ONCE. Nothing has been proven yet. Stop making assumptions. It’s rude.

Varrick: Everything’s fine, Knight. Gabrielle: Veil, I know your relationship with the english language is strictly casual, but you- I- *deep inhale* ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU WHAT’S NOT FINE.

Val: Don't know why people think kids learning about gay relationships in school will turn them gay. I learned about World War Two, but am yet to invade Poland.

Crow: Do not come over to my house. If the house is on fire you may knock once, if I don’t answer assume I set the fire and I want to burn to death.

Gabrielle: At this point, I'm holding myself together with glitter glue.

Kaidan: It's ride and die

Gabrielle: You can take away my rights, but can you take away my lefts?

Auri: You can't wake up if you never got to sleep.

Lydia: I tried to write ‘I'm a functional adult’ but my phone changed it to ‘fictional adult’ and i feel like that’s more accurate.

Gabrielle: Maybe the real monster was the friends we both literally and figuratively murdered along the way.

Varrick, slamming pots and pans together to the rhythm of "Give it to me, I'm worth it": I didn't get no sleep cause a' y'all! Y'all never gonna sleep cause a' me!

Nebarra: No, they're not "symptoms of depression", they're Blue's Clues.

Sorayne: I’m gonna mix a can of Red Bull with seventeen shots of espresso in a fishbowl and then chug it while Kids by MGMT plays in the background so I can perceive twenty-three spatial dimensions and fight my own soul.

Varrick, sniffing: Sometimes coke is so good.

Ashe: If you step on a person's foot, they open up their mouths just like a trash can.

Eris: My expectations are low, but they can always go lower.

Val: I was born for politics. I have great hair. And I love lying.

Varrick: I'm a nice person, but I'm about to start throwing rocks at people.

Gore: Mama. Just killed a man. Gore: Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he's dead. Gore: MAMAAAAAAAA OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Auri: What?! Let me hide the body, where is it? Is there anyone around that can hear us? Auri: ...Are those song lyrics? Gore: Those are song lyrics.

Lucien: Then either Sonic is a god or could kill god, and I do not care if there is a difference.

Remiel: You look mentally ill. Gabrielle: I am. Let’s go. Sorayne, texting Taliesin: Roses are red, Tony Hawk is a skater… Taliesin′s phone, auto-replying: I’m driving right now–I’ll get back to you later. *Later* Taliesin, texting back: Fuck you.

Sorayne: Wait you have thots? Crow: God I wish

Eris:If I had to describe my life in a movie scene, It's be the part in Elf when he gets hit by the taxi and then thanks them.

Kaidan: What has the galaxy ever done for you?! Why would you wanna save it?! Crow: Cause I’m one of the idiots who lives in it!

Inigo: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk. Kaidan: Go the fuck to sleep Inigo.

Auri: The last guy's blood didn't splatter across my face and shirt sexily or aesthetically enough so I have to kill again. Sorry.

Gore: Who wants to go out of the country on a road trip? Khash: Yea, I could drink legally! Kaidan: I could hang out with the boys! Sorayne: I could hide from the consequences of my actions.

Gore: Everybody shut up, I'm thinking. Taliesin, patting them on the back: Well, don’t think too hard. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.

Crow: *slams books down in front of Gabrielle* Crow: Boil up some Mountain Dew. It’s gonna be a long night. Gabrielle: You could of said literally anything else. Crow: Cauldron boil and cauldron bubble, Baja Blast to fuel my trouble. Gabrielle: I’m going to just stop challenging you when you say random shit. I won’t win. I realize this now. Gore, trying to be nice: Sorry I told you the fucking truth you stupid bitch.

Sorayne: honk. Caryalind: WHAT. Sorayne: HONK. Caryalind: WHAT DOES HONK MEAN THIS TIME YOU WHIMSICAL PIECE OF SHIT?????

Sorayne: If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're impressed. Gabrielle: But you do know better.

Val: I'm actually the smartest and most beautiful person on this damn playground so you'd better show some fucking respect before I scrape my knees and make it look like you pushed me.

Sorayne: Getting up at 6:00 am made me realize that 6:00 am isn't a place, it's an emotion. Kaidan: 6:00 am isn't a place at all? Sorayne: That's because it's an emotion.

Eris: Lol and lmao and so on and so forth.

Remiel: If you got arrested what would be the charges? Ashe: Theft. Xelzaz: Disturbing the peace. Nebarra: Aggravated assault. Gabrielle: Arson. Auri: All of the above. In that order, probably.

Disnel: I’m so happy two of my favorite people are getting along now. Khash: Uh, Varrick and Gabrielle are not getting along. Disnel: They’re not trying to kill each other. Khash: You may have a point.

Taliesin: Forgive me Father, for I have sinny-sin-sinned.

Auri: May luck (and this picture of Gore eating shredded cheese at 3 in the morning) be with you.

Taliesin: If you don't kiss your cat on their tiny soft little fotehead then what the fuck are you even doing? Lydia: Yelling at them for trying to eat plastic.

Remiel: What goes up but never comes down? Lydia: The amount of stress you're bringing this family.

Kaidan: What's the gender neutral term for eboy and egirl? Taliesin: Ebay. Auri: Ebook. Nebarra: ECOLI.

*In the chip aisle at Walmart, doing a late-night grocery run.* Remiel: *Minding their own business, looking for tortilla chips.* Remiel: *Finds tortilla chips.* Val, to Auri: See, they know what they're here for. They know what they're doing. Be more like them. Make a decision, Auri.

Gabrielle: The next time I open up to someone, it'll be my autopsy.

Kaidan: You know the sound a fork makes in the garbage disposal? That's the sound that my brain makes all the time.

Taliesin: Crow, I need some advice. Crow: You need advice from ME? Taliesin: Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

Kaidan: When I drink alcohol, everyone says I'm an alcoholic, but when I drink Fanta, no one says I'm fantastic.

Nebarra, posting on social media: I am drunk on my front porch and I think a lizard went into my shirt but whatever man, have fun in there. Nebarra, the next morning: When did I post this?!

Caryalind: Real life should have a fucking search function, or something. Caryalind: I need my socks.

Varrick: *pitches an idea* Disnel, impressed: Huh, there might be something here! Gabrielle, under their breath: Yeah, a lawsuit.

*Crow drunkenly wanders around the house and Kaidan is drunkenly giggling* Varrick, completely sober: *sighs* Well, looks like it's just me and you against the wold, Gabrielle. Gabrielle, going to their room: Nope, just you. *shuts door*

[hugejk]

“Hold this” PG6

tiny little blurb tbh 😋

nun but fluff 💕

||______________________________________||

The day after christmas was always hectic for you. Getting gift cards and money as gifts because you didn’t really have anything on your list anymore. So spending the day going to various stores with your boyfriend was always the plan.

Waking pablo up early, already excited and ready to go shopping. Pablo was not a morning person, shaking him vigorously to wake him up.

“5 more minutes….” he said turning over taking a heap on blanket in his arms.

“it’s already been 20 minutes cmon” you said dragging the n. After you said that he finally sat up, his short hair barely messy.

“pablo stop giving me the stink eye let’s go already.”

“i’m not giving you anything” he said finally getting out of bed. going straight to your shared dresser and pulling out some jeans and a plain white tee. You gathered a few things, your wallet, those gift cards and money, lipgloss and eyelash glue.

Pablo stretched some more and got his shoes on, grabbing his keys and looked to you to make sure you were ready. Even though you’ve been ready for an hour already.

driving there was always you favorite part, you had your music on playing whatever was on shuffle, you and pablo have this tradition where whenever you go shopping you have to get a new starbucks drink to try. So when pablo pulled into the drive through you got excited.

As he pulled up to the speaker he realized he never asked you what to get, and as the lady on the other end started to speak he looked at you nervously.

“what is it this time?”

you unbuckled yourself and leaned over him and started speaking,

“can i get two venti salted caramel mochas please? Extra whipped cream on one of them”

pablo could never understand the concept of ordering drinks at starbucks, all the choices and sizes always confused him. So most of the time you did the ordering.

as he payed for the drinks you gave him a little peck on the cheek, you pointed to the window as the woman standing there had your drinks.

now you guys were on your way to the local mall to see what stores there was. You already knew what you wanted to get. pablo on the other hand, had no idea what he was getting or where he wanted to go.

as he pulled into the parking spot you pulled down that little mirror in the car (pls tell me you know what it is😭) and started checking your makeup, reapplying your sparkly lipgloss. pablo stared at you in awe, the way you looked just had him in a trance.

“alright let’s go”

“i love you”

“i love you too pablo” you said as you kissed him and opened your door getting out of the car. As pablo immediately walked over to you and took your hand in his you guys started walking over to the entrance.

“ooo look at that dress! do you think they have my size?” you said looking at a dress through a window.

“amorcito, we haven’t even seen all the stores.” he said with a little disbelief in his tone, in a blink he was in the store looking at a black sparkly dress with you.

“we can come back and look at it cmon” he said dragging you out the store. One store caught your eye, bath and body works. Your favorite store, they had everything! body wash, lotion, body spray, and candles. You dragged pablo in the store and immediately started smelling the body sprays they had on display.

“does this smell good to you? I like it” you said as you kept smelling a new scent they released, holding it to pablo’s nose as he sniffed it too.

“that does smell really good” as you looked at him a lady walked up to you guys asking if you needed a bag,

“yes!”

“no thank you”

you looked at pablo and took the bag she offered and put the body spray in the bag walking over to the candles and smelling them, pablo relentlessly followed you. As you continue around in the store you told him about work drama, asked him how certain things smelled, stupid questions. Pablo’s favorite part was checking out, as soon as he stepped out the store he told you he had a headache.

you reached in your bag and pulled out a little pouch with advil inside, taking him to the vending machine and paying way too much for a water. It seemed like pablo just couldn’t stop complaining as he started begging you to get some food.

you sighed and took him to the food court with various options for food, but he already was in line for a random burger place. You followed him and scanned the menu

as you guys finished eating you went to some random clothing store, looking through all the pants and shirts. Pablo behind you on his phone carrying clothes you want to try on. Holding a shirt up to your torso you turn around and ask him,

“does this look good on me?”

“of course it does, everything looks good on you”

“okay! here hold this” you said as he dragged on behind you his arms shaking from everything he was holding. You made your way to the dressing room and took all the clothes you had and went into a stall. Pablo finding a seat and still scrolling on his phone.

But this specific outfit had you questioning if you wanted it or not, you walked out and called for him,

“does this outfit make me look weird? i can’t tell if i like it or not, does it make me look fat? does it-“

you got cut off by pablo telling you that you look gorgeous in everything, you looked in the mirror behind you and put your hands on your hips. you walked back to your stall and put on the clothes you had on originally finally deciding what you were gonna buy.

walking with pablo to the register with him still holding everything you thanked him for his hard work. As the woman at the register told you your total, you pulled out your wallet until pablo had already had his card out and put it in the pay thingy (you know right? 😭)

you looked shocked, you had the money to pay for it but he payed for you anyways. She handed you the bags and you gave them all to pablo of course. And made your way back to the car.

||_______________________________________||

A/N: i got lazy towards the end 😜

[heykoonsy]

Word Count: 4.3k+

Pairing: Lance McClain x Keith Kogane

Summary: It’s the summer before Junior Year. Lance McClain is sixteen, and when he isn’t Skype-ing Hunk at Robotics Camp, he’s writhing in agony over a soul tattoo he’s never really been fond of. He longs for the day that it will stop…until it does. Lance struggles to accept who fate has chosen for him, grappling with his own expectations and hopes for love.

Notes: In a First Words Soulmate Tattoo AU, the two love birds get a matching set of tattoos when they enter puberty. The tattoo is nothing but the first words your soulmate says to you. There are countless theories regarding how placement, font, and tattoo pain play a role in the fated pair’s romance. 

Content Tags: Soulmate!AU, SoulTattoo!AU, Romance, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Minor Original Characters, High School Setting

Author's Note: Hey, sorry for the delay in posting this! I was helping a friend of mine move to their new home. Welcome to the first chapter of SoulHate! which funnily enough, got its name because I was using the working title: The Klance SoulHate!AU. Another note about this work is that dialog that has been italicized is spoken in Spanish, but since I don't know Spanish, this was my happy medium. There are a few instances where a word is stressed and that is the only time that the above does not apply. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Welcome to My Life

Lance turned over onto his right side, desperate to get any and all pressure off of his left hip as quickly as possible. He winced, blinking away the exhaustion from his eyes and probably a few tears as well. Lance threw off his blanket as gently as he could. If he accidentally bumped his hip bone the Lord would have to call him home. And he wished that was just an exaggeration. With a shaky hand Lance pulled up his grey tank top and looked at the cause of the pain he was receiving on this bright and sunny summer morning. His tattoo was acting up for the millionth time since he got it with old-lady puberty. Lance traced the lines of the words he’d been branded with at thirteen years old. They were haphazardly drawn—invoking a sense of discomfort and anger with just the font. He’d stared at these words for the last three years just imagining what kind of person his soulmate would be. From the looks of his tattoo, she had a biting attitude, not to mention her vulgar language. 

Lance’s mind was teleported back to the day he got his tattoo—how he’d cried out in pain so bad in the nurse’s office that the school had to call his parents to pick him up. He could still hear his mother’s voice as she tended him in the driveway of their house.

“My goodness, Lance! Look at these words! She’s so rude, talking to you this way.” She moved her hands along his left arm to comfort him in the back seat.

Lance sniffed and wiped at the tear tracks on his cheeks. “What does it say?” Lance asked her after he was calm enough to form words.

His father chimed in at that point, settling behind his mother,Angella, with an unwrapped orange Popsicle. “No one is using that kind of language.”

“Thank you, Cedro,” she said with a stern tone as she took the popsicle from his waiting hand.

“You’re not going to touch it, right?”

“No, no baby.” She offered the popsicle to Lance.  “Aunt Amillia Rose says that orange popsicles help with the pain. Eat it,” she smiled and then removed herself from the car.

“Why does it hurt so bad? Tracey’s didn’t hurt this bad did it?”

“No, Lance. Tracey’s tattoo was in a less sensitive place,” his father tried to explain but it only left Lance more confused.

Lance was brought back to reality as another wave of pain crashed over him. It was like someone was spreading hot glue directly onto the skin of his hip. Lance groaned as the stinging subsided for a brief moment. He caught his breath, unaware that he’d been holding it in the first place. Deep down, Lance knew what this renewed pain meant.

His tattoo was reacting to his stress. Again.

Lance learned from his parents that soul tattoos were how fated lovers found each other. How the tattoos bonded the two forever regardless of race, gender, poverty, beauty or age. His parents were probably one in a million success stories, which meant they were also blind to how Lance felt on the subject. It seemed that his mother and father could ignore the pain and uncertainty that came with the permanent “love dowsing-rod”. If Lance were honest—which given his personality type, he usually wasn’t—he thought of the soul tattoos as nothing more than a burden. There was nothing he found miraculous or life changing about being in unbearable, unstoppable pain twice in one lifetime—and in his case, even more. But, the pain would be almost okay if Lance were able to know more than just his soulmate’s first words to him. 

If he could get a name, a face—heck, even a minor detail like preferring hot chocolate or coffee or winter over summer–that would be great. Something to gauge whether or not the universe was playing a literal cosmic joke on him. It wouldn’t be so bad if he knew what he was getting into—and the “have faith in fate” vibe his parents gave off didn’t reassure him as much as it set a barrier between the three of them. There was a chance Lance’s soulmate wouldn’t love him. Maybe she would make fun of his ears or his taste in music. What if Lance were picked on for being associated with whoever he got paired with? In the middle of reliving his anxieties, Lance remembered his mother and Auntie Mabel consoling his cousin Cleo after she got home from a pool party in her freshman year of high school.

Lance had been in the mud room when Cleo opened up to their moms about why she was upset at dinner. He was grabbing a new shirt since Cleo dumped her water down his front. He hid, keeping himself flat against the ajar door as he eavesdropped on the three of them. Lance heard Cleo spill that the girls that invited her to the party had pulled off her t-shirt and showed the boys the soul tattoo on her back. Not even her friends came to her aid. Everyone just laughed.

“I don’t want to have this crappy tattoo anymore,” Cleo spat, her voice hoarse from stifling her sobs so they didn’t echo through the house. “I get made fun of whenever people see it.”

“No, no, no! How could you ever want to ignore such a blessing? Those girls just don’t understand that love is sometimes embarrassing,” he heard his mother say to a sniffling Cleo.

“Yeah, Cleo. Your tattoo is unique and beautiful. If you let anyone tell you otherwise, you are teaching them that their backwards way of thinking is acceptable,” Auntie Mabel said. She pulled on Cleo’s arm, hugging her close to her chest and patting her head. Cleo continued soaking Auntie Mabel’s blouse with tears for a good five minutes after that.

There was one thing that Lance took away from that conversation. It definitely wasn’t that he should be proud of his soul tattoo. Instead, it was to never expose himself to scrutiny and criticism. Never would he be the one called odd or irregular for his tattoo. That included his partner, whoever she may be.

 Lance looked down at his tattoo and wondered if the pain was really gone. He pressed a clammy hand to the inflamed patch of skin discolored black by ink. He sighed and rose from his bed. With that over, Lance rotated his legs left and his bare feet struck the tops of his fuzzy blue slippers. Lance palmed his phone which was resting on his bedside table, charger connected and flashing a happy battery percentage. He checked the time first. Eight o’ clock on the dot, exactly thirty minutes before he could message Hunk on Skype. Lance put on his slippers and, with phone in hand, he strolled out of his room and towards the bathroom. He had time for a quick shower—enough to wash off the grubby feeling his soul tattoo’s resurgence had caused. Maybe he’d put on a mud mask while he dried off. Anything to eliminate the stress he was feeling.

Lance entered the bathroom which was just a quick walk down the hall. But it was occupied judging by the light underneath the door. Lance knocked quickly, gravity aiding in telling him how much he needed to pee.

“Yes?” Lance heard Nino’s small voice call from inside.

“Nino, I’ve gotta pee,” Lance said. “Are you done?”

Instead of answering, Lance heard the shuffling of a plastic stool and the click of the doorknob opening. Lance looked down to where his little brother was standing, toothbrush in hand and blue foam all over his mouth.

“Come in,” Nino said as he grabbed Lance’s arm and then returned his blue stool to the front of the sink.

Lance closed the door and walked over to the toilet, pulling down the waistband of his pants. He stood there for a little bit, listening to Nino as he obsessively brushed over every tooth he had. Once he was done, Lance flushed and went to the sink. He stood behind Nino and turned on the faucet to rinse off his hands. He rested his chin on Nino’s head and sighed, looking at himself in the mirror that his little brother was still too short to see into. His hair was a mess from all of his rolling around last night—and his eyes looked even worse. They practically gave away the fact that he was dead tired and annoyed at the world.

“You look like poop,” Nino said as he spit out some of the foam in his mouth. A waft of bubblegum came off his breath.

“I’m gonna tell mom you said that,” Lance threatened.

Nino got quiet. “Meany.”

“You’re the meany,” he said and then backed away from the sink after turning off the faucet. “I’m gonna take a shower now, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Nino then began washing off his toothbrush and flushing out his mouth with water. When he was done he jumped off his stool and wiped off his mouth on Lance’s shirt.

“Bye,” Lance said almost angrily.

“Bye.”

When Lance came back from the bathroom it was eight twenty-four and he was already clad in his blue bathrobe, had a towel on his head, and his face was slathered in a mud mask. Lance sat in the swivel chair at his desk and fired up his laptop before spinning it around a few times. He stopped when he heard the tell tale chime of the login screen. He entered his password and that quick he was firing up Skype. Lance looked at the time at the bottom right hand of the screen. He had exactly five minutes until he could call Hunk. 

Currently, his best friend was at this fancy robotics camp he went to every year since sixth grade. It was a whole four weeks of sad, hug-less, Hunk-less summer poured right down the drain. But every year before he left, Hunk reassured Lance that he could Skype him every morning and every night at eight thirty. Breakfast ended at eight-thirty which meant the campers, i.e. Hunk, had thirty minutes of down time before that day’s activity started. The same thing happened at night before lights out. When Lance looked back down at the clock, it was prime Hunk calling time.

Lance clicked on his contact list and pulled up Hunk’s name. Another click and his laptop was already trilling. Lance looked towards the door of his room and swiveled over to make sure it was shut before he started his conversation. When he got back Hunk still hadn’t answered. The last time he’d done this, it had taken Hunk eight minutes to find a private enough spot in order to talk to Lance. Everyone crowded the cafeteria and the Wi-Fi wasn’t nearly strong enough to connect him outside. Once, Hunk had to build a blanket fort for some solitude for one of their calls. But, as it stopped ringing, Lance learned that Hunk had found a spot rather quickly.

“Okay, so I know this is an odd place to carry out a conversation, but this place is insane when it comes to privacy,” Hunk said, his voice slightly echoing from the bathroom stall he was in.

“Look man, I’m not the one in a public bathroom, I’m not complaining,” Lance said.

Hunk looked suspicious for a second. “Wait, why aren’t you complaining? And what’s with the mud mask?”

Already Lance had been caught. “My tattoo’s been killing me since last night. I haven’t gotten much sleep,” he admitted. After all, he couldn’t lie to Hunk. He’d deduce it sooner or later and it would be better for Lance if he didn’t jump to conclusions.

“Really? I thought you looked rough.”

“Oh my God, thanks.” Lance put a hand to his chest, making a show of calming his heart from the flattery. “That’s what every guy wants to hear.” He sent a sarcastic eye roll loose in Hunk’s direction. “But yeah, I know what you mean. I guess a boiling hot shower can’t wash away everything.”

“Probably not. You might want to hide from your mom for a while.”

“Yeah,” Lance said before he winced. He grabbed his hip out of habit. “Ouch.”

“I am so not envious, dude.”

“So how was your morning?”

“Definitely less painful than yours,” Hunk said as he chuckled. “We had breakfast pizza today. No one started a food fight, which I have a feeling you were counting on. Oh, there was some juicy gossip that I heard today.”

“Okay, first of all, don’t talk about food. I can’t go downstairs for nourishment just yet. Also, I am mad about the food fight. Didn’t I tell you that you had to initiate one before the end of your stay?”

“Yes, you did say that. But will I?” Hunk put his hands up.

“Wait, what was the juicy gossip?”

“What?” He raised an eyebrow.

“The juicy gossip, Hunk, who do you think I am? Tell me all of it, every detail.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay, well apparently someone got kicked out of camp today for hacking the camp website. Every thirty seconds, there would be a cluster of asteroids raining down the page. It was one of the girls here. Her name was…Sarah? Sam?” He looked perplexed for a moment but then he got back on track. “Anyway, I heard it from Micah.”

“Your nerd friend!” Lance announced with recognition. “I mean that in an endearing kind of way, I hope he knows that,” Lance said as he leaned on his elbows.

“He does, actually. I told him all about you.”

Lance’s face lit up. “Because I’m great?”

“Because you are a pain in my neck.”

“A great pain in your neck?”

Hunk sighed with a wide smile taking up most of his face. “Yes. So are you going to tell your parents that your tattoo is hurting again?”

“And open that can of worms? No, thank you. Tattoo pain has two causes: stress and as a gauge for when you are going to meet your soulmate. I think I’d rather spare them from the false alarm.”

“True. What have you been stressing over lately?”

Lance leaned back in his chair, huffing at the invasive question. “The usual. What I’m going to have for dinner tonight, why the sky is blue, why people aren’t worshipping me as a deity…I could go on.”

Hunk knew that he’d gotten defensive and dropped the topic, as he normally would. “Sounds like fun. Anyway, I’ve gotta go. I don’t want the smell of the bathroom lingering on my clothes. I have to keep myself looking nice in case I meet my soulmate.”

Lance laughed and then watched as Hunk signed off. He felt his stomach drop as he looked down at his mouse pad. Again with that soulmate thing. He always got antsy whenever his tattoo started hurting. Lance sat up in his chair and shut down his laptop. He stood, and with a swipe of his hand, Lance closed the lid of his laptop. It was nearly nine, which meant that his mother was probably helping Uncle Raymón at the shop, his dad was at work and Aunt Amillia Rose was watching Amada and Nino. Sweet. No one was around to interrogate his exhausted self—breakfast was feasible. Lance could already picture the Frosted Flakes sitting in a heaping bowl glistening with milk. His mouth watered so bad he had to snap it closed. But before that—Lance prodded at the mud mask to see if it was completely dry. Alright, so breakfast would be delayed by a few minutes. No problem.

Big problem. Very big problem.

Lance was sitting at the end of the table, opposite his parents who were being especially cuddly this afternoon—for whatever reason. He’d only been half paying attention to the conversation that everyone but he and Amada were taking part of. The other half of his attention was preoccupied by an intense pain in his waist. That’s right, ladies and gentleman. His stupid soul tattoo was trying to out him right in front of his family. The betrayal. Lance tried to keep himself from wincing by wiggling his legs underneath the table. He looked around for a moment to distract himself from the searing pain overtaking his nervous system. To his immediate left—Amada—who had to sit on two pillows in order to see her food on the table. Beside her, her mom, Aunt Amillia Rose. To his immediate right, Nino. Next to him was their father. At the head of the table his mother spoke to Nino.

“What’s on your mind, Nino?”

“I was thinking about your soul tattoo, mama, when am I gonna get mine?”

“In a few years. You just have to be patient,” his father explained.

“I don’t want to wait.”

“Nino, do you see Lance making a fuss out of his soul tattoo?”

Nino shook his head. “But Lance has one. How did you get yours?”

Lance’s eyes shot to Nino. Oh, he was asking their parents. Thank God.

“Well, I got mine when I was twelve but your dad got his pretty late.”

Aunt Amillia Rose laughed at this. “Are you going to tell the whole story? I thought I’d heard it enough.”

Angella pulled out her right wrist, where there was a small cursive inscription right over the veins there. “My tattoo hurt when I first got it, so much that I cried to my mom and grandma about it. They told me to stop complaining.”

Amillia Rose sipped on her water. “You were so mad at them that you put dirt in their shoes.”

“I was in pain,” Angella said, fitting an escaped curl back behind her ear. “But when I was eighteen, she and grandma gave me the most beautiful bracelet. And I carried it on me for years—until the day the loop broke and I lost it while walking around the beach.”

“Did you ever find it?” Amada asked; her voice so quiet Lance could barely hear her despite the fact that he was sitting next to her.

“Of course, baby girl! I was nineteen, my wrist had been burning for what seemed like days, and I was trying to enjoy the beautiful weather when someone tapped me on the shoulder.” Angella looked over at Cedro, her eyes getting teary for just a moment. She brought her wrist up again, looking longingly at the words before reading them aloud.

Cedro beat her to the punch, already reciting the words as if he’d repeated them to her every day. “Ma'am, I think you dropped this.”

“He’d watched it fall off my wrist just a minute before. I was so lost in the crashing waves and wind I couldn’t hear him trudging after me.”

“And when I finally got her attention, it was like the ocean was singing to me. After I showed her the bracelet she shouted her gratitude and my heart just burst.”

“My bracelet, thank you!” Angella shouted like she had all those years ago. Of course, now she didn’t have an entire ocean to drown out.

“Your Mom and I have been together ever since, Nino. So when we tell you to be patient, you must listen. Your tattoo will come and you too will meet your soulmate.”

Lance stopped paying attention when another tremor of pain shook him to the core. He looked down at his hip, begging the pain to stop for just another ten minutes. When some of the pain subsided, he glanced up at his family. Their eyes were glued to Amillia Rose, who was telling a story about her and Angella’s early childhood. Lance faced his plate, his untouched meal staring him in the face. He’d have to finish them quickly if he had any hope of escaping his family’s concerned looks—

“Lance, you’ve barely said anything. What’s with the silence?” Amillia Rose asked.

Lance resisted the urge to look up towards the heavens and scream: why me? Instead, he looked at his aunt with a smile on his face. “Nothing, I’ve just been thinking.”

“About?” His father asked.

“Since Hunk is at Robotics Camp I don’t know what to do with myself.”

The table seemed to nod in unison before starting up another conversation. Thank the sweet Lord above. Lance started to shovel rice into his waiting mouth, desperate to get out of the dining room. He patted himself on the back for his quick thinking—the only downside was that now they’d ask for favors since he didn’t have anything better to do. With the current state of his soul tattoo even doing the dishes seemed too daunting of a task.

Ten minutes after Lance finished eating he was at the front door, shoes on, his older brother’s blue hand-me-down hoodie hanging low on his waist. He was staring at the front door, hand already gripping the doorknob. He listened quietly, ears straining to hear which of his family members was walking out of the living room and towards him. When he heard them stop just behind him, he turned around with a smile at the ready.

“An after dinner walk?” Aunt Amillia Rose asked, her smile escaping in her voice.

“Yeah, ten minutes tops.”

“Sounds good.” She sighed, shoulders relaxing for a moment. “I’ll be putting the kids to bed. See you.”

Lance watched her disappear up the stairs, sundress swaying with the motion of her steps. He turned back towards the door, shaky perspiring hand opening it before his tattoo gave another hearty try at derailing his progress at not being found out by his nosy family. He shut the door as quietly as he opened it and breathed in the crisping summer-night air. He looked to his right, where a yellow street light lit up his path down the driveway and onto the sidewalk. Lance put his hands in the pockets of his shorts, trying his best to calm down. He tried to rationalize things for himself. His tattoo was just hurting because he was stressed about his tattoo hurting. There was nothing to be worried about. Aunt Amillia Rose dealt with this all the time—tattoo pain was nothing to be worried about. He’d just eat an orange popsicle and explain that he’s been worried about the new school year. Yeah. Except it was August and he hadn’t even gotten his schedule in the mail.

Lance wondered if instead of all this lying he could just be honest like Cleo was all those years ago in the dining room. Maybe his mom and dad would tell him that it was okay to worry about his soulmate and not pressure him into loving who he was paired with. Maybe Aunt Amillia Rose would give him tips on how to reduce the seemingly limitless pain he was in whenever his stress spiked like this. Lance sighed, realizing that although he hoped for something like that to happen, he knew his parents too well. Although Aunt Amillia Rose would do anything to help him, she was also devoted to her sister and wouldn’t keep any secrets from her. And he didn’t think he could sit through another talk with his dad after the birds and the bees incident in middle school.

With a quick shiver, Lance found that he’d stopped walking—instead he’d just been standing outside a vacant house, bright white For Sale sign gleaming in the moonlight above. He looked up at where Mr. Nichols lived before the remnants of his family put him in a nursing home. There was a tree in the front yard, the branches of which sprawled all over the front lawn. There was a porch connected to the front of the house where Nichols would sit and watch the birds all morning. Now, in the dark, it seemed eerie. Like the house knew that it had been empty for a while and was heartbroken. So lonely that it waited forlornly until morning, when the sun shone on the tree and the birds woke and sang to keep it company.

Lance was about to turn tail and return home when the skin on his hip started to reenact the Great Fire of London. He grabbed his tattoo with his left hand and struggled to hold himself up with the For Sale sign with his right. He took in a deep breath, eyes watering as he refused his body the chance to cry out.

This was supposed to be a calming walk! What was he doing wrong!?

Lance lowered himself, sure that a quick breather would set him straight. He sat there, back against the sign, both hands now covering the burning flesh of his hip. He took deep breath after deep breath and finally things seemed alright. Above him, the leaves stirred in the breeze that waltzed down the street just like he had. Of course the wind was less of a mess than he was at the moment. Lance tried to picture what he must look like right now, resting against a stupid For Sale sign, hands hidden, eyes wet and cheeks streaked with tears he couldn’t stop. How drab. Not his usual picturesque self—that’s for sure. If his family saw him like this he was sure that they wouldn’t recognize him. Probably not even Hunk. Okay, that’s a dirty lie. Hunk would recognize him even if he were in a different body. That’s what friendship since middle school rewarded you with.

Lance sighed again, and it didn’t take an ounce of weight off his chest. He guessed that it was time to go home. This walk hadn’t helped him after all. So Lance got up from where he was sitting on Mr. Nichols’ old lawn and stumbled his way down the street towards his house. When he got there he’d have a nice warm bed to look forward to. And an empty room since his older brother Tracey moved out a few years ago. Not to mention the kids would be getting ready for bed so he could spend as much time as he wanted writhing in agony.

[ MASTERLIST ] [ TEASER ] [ NEXT ]

[edwardalbee]

i truly did pick the wrong week to stop sniffing glue

[drtrinitysantos]

stop sniffing glue with the whos and try snortin with a horton

[lilliancdoodles]

Fit seeing the moon eye: "The fuck?….. I gotta stop sniffing glue. I'm fucked up dude, i'm fucked up"

[thescarletnargacuga]

Could you do a ribbun oneshot?

A/N: I can certainly try. Without details, I don't know what the ribbun community wants-

STRENGTH IN TRAGEDY

WARNING: angst

~~~

"Hey, ribbons, whatcha got there?"

Gangle didn't have time to react. Jax reached over her, snatched her drawing, and held it out of reach. "Hey! Wait! No!"

Jax examined the partially finished work with exaggerated interest. "Oh, so I see you're taking the abstract approach. Hehehe, no pun intended. It doesn't really look like anything."

"It's not done! Give it baaack!" Gangle whined and tried grabbing the paper.

Jax pushed her away from him and she stumbled back. Her comedy mask slipped from its precarious perch and the porcelain shattered on the ground. She stared at her fallen mask. Cumbersome tears hung from her dark eyes. Jax's cackling laughter rang in her head like an echoing curse.

Her sobbing eyes angled downward. Her ribbons curled tightly together. "Every time..."

"What was that?" Jax wiped an amused tear from his eye. "I couldn't hear you over the sound of me-"

"EVERY. TIME." Gangle said with barely contained rage. She turned to face him and glared at him. "Every time I'm happy! Every time I even THINK I have a moment of peace, YOU have to ruin it! Why!? I was minding my own business and you went out of your way to be MEAN to me! You broke my mask! AGAIN!! EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. IT'S ALWAYS YOU!!" Her voice pitched until she was practically screeching at him.

Jax was taken aback but kept the cool appearance of being unimpressed. He crossed his arms, folding the art in the process. "So, you're finally standing up to me. Took you long enough."

His words disarmed Gangle immediately. Her face contorted with confusion. "Wait- what?"

"Yeah, I was beginning to wonder if you were going to be this easy forever." He grinned mischievously and leaned down to her level. "But I've never been more happy to be wrong. Way to keep things interesting, Ribbons. I like it when people keep me guessing."

Gangle was even more confused. "You want me to fight you?"

He laughed and stood upright. "You're still slow, but a step in the right direction is still a step. Come on, Ribbons. You got more to say?" He arched an eyebrow.

Gangle stammered but found her voice. "You-! You always try to take my art! You make fun of it when it's not even finished and- uh, you never apologize!"

Jax looked bored. "Now you're just stating the obvious."

"AAAARGH!" Gangle threw her hands in frustration. "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!? I JUST WANT TO DRAW! AND NOW I CAN'T BECAUSE YOU BROKE MY MASK! YOU'RE THE BIGGEST [%$!#]HOLE IN THIS CIRCUS FOR NO REASON! LITERALLY NO ONE LIKES YOU! WHY DON'T YOU DO US ALL A FAVOR AND JUST ABSTRACT ALREADY!!" Gangle gasped and covered her mouth.

Jax tensed a little. "...better." He dropped the paper and walked away.

"Wait, I- I didn't mean that..." Gangle said quietly.

Jax didn't stop or look back.

Gangle collected her paper and art supplies and retreated to her room, leaving her comedy mask in pieces on the floor. She dropped everything on the floor and cried to herself on her bed. "Even Jax doesn't deserve to abstract...no one does. Why did I say that? Why did he have to push me?" She sniffed. "Jerk..."

A knock on her door made her jump. "Who is it?"

No answer.

Carefully, she opened the door. No one was there. She leaned out and her foot pushed something in the floor. It was her comedy mask, painstakingly glued together. It was cracked, and there were glue dribbles all over it, but it was in one piece. A small note stuck to the inside.

She picked it up and read it. Stay strong and fight. It's the only way we're getting through this. She smiled a little. "Thanks..." She said to no one.

[sonic-takeover]

"Friend" is a step in the right direction! At least I always make friends with someone before I even consider considering dating them lol. You're doing great Omega! 👍 You doing alright as far as not running out of power a few yards from the lair though?

I will make it. Inquiry: Are you certain she has not... What is the phrase that Rouge frequents... "Friend-zoned?" Has she done this? If so, I must cease my pursuit. *He makes it to the lair. He's slowed down quite a bit, but he should have enough energy to get through the song. Perhaps Alice could carry him home to his charger. He stops next to her and Sage. Sticks is off sniffing around the dumpster at the far end of the wall*

Sooooo you're late and with a girl~ What happeeennnneeeddd~?

Nothing. She requested that I stay, so I did. She fell asleep five minutes later and we left to come here when she woke.

Aww dangit... Wait, your battery life isn't that long... Are you tired?

Very.

Awww... You're gonna be such a good boyfriend to her, Omega.

I do not believe that she- *He shuts up when the door opens and Eggman and Stone step out. Eggman is wearing a fancy new moustache toupee that isn't quite the same level of magnificence as his original 'stache, but it gets the job done*

What in chaos' name is going on here? Why are most of my children at my doorstep? And the badger girl.

*Sticks waves from half inside the dumpster* Yo!

Er... Yo.

*Alice rocks back and forth, being sweeter than usual* I like your new look, daaad, it's sooooo cute! How's it go on?

Glue.

Ooh~! Nice.

Just get to the part where you say why you're all here standing in a line. I'm busy.

You all look very nice, by the way. *Stone nods at Omega's bow tie. Omega stands a little straighter*

Thanks abba, hehe! We're here to sing for you!!

Sing..?

SINNNGGG!! Ready you guys?

Yes.

*Omega beeps affirmation*

*Sticks joins them. She may not know what they're singing, but she can sure caterwaul like a beast when she wants to. The song goes........ As well as can be expected*

[oleskyfm]

I picked the wrong day to stop sniffing glue