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#Getting Mugged by the Monopoly Man
phfenomena · 9 months
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❝state of grace.❞ || tom blyth x f!reader
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| request- state of grace by taylor!!!!
| A/N- i’m using every goddamn line of this song in it. it’s too good to be ignored. justice for state of grace it’s my fav on red 😞😞
| WARNINGS- strange men in cafes, wine, monopoly, mentions of murdering josh, mentions of robbery, two goofballs in love, and big ol’ smooches
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(divider by @v6que)
i’m walking fast through the traffic lights, busy streets and busy lives.
you’ve scrambled out of your apartment and are speed walking throughout the brooklyn streets in hopes of getting to your audition on time. being an aspiring actress in new york isn’t easy, but it’s all you wanted to do. nothing else called to you like acting, but the constant state of franticness and stress was taking a toll.
your mind begins to wander around the fact that the thousands of people you see tonight have their own lives, they’re trying to get home to their families, or their significant other, they have something to go home to.
all we know is touch and go.
after the disaster that one could call your audition, you figured you deserved a coffee. the cozy and serene café was one you frequented, on the days you had time. the chipper and almost too happy barista starts your drink the second she sees you cross the threshold of the doors. you go to take your usual seat by the window but stop upon seeing a man sitting there.
you stop and stare before ultimately deciding to just take the seat next to his, no, your usual seat. being too tired to even try to muster up the emotional strength to be upset, you plop down and place your head on the table. “you look like you really need this today.” jessie, the barista, says and places the mug of coffee next your head. you offer a small thanks and stare into the dark liquid.
we are alone with our changing minds, we fall in love till’ it hurts or bleeds.
the man occupying your space turned to look at you and he looked completely contrary to you, bright blue eyes, a smile, and he just looked content. he’s definitely attractive, but your brain couldn’t find any room for this man to move into.
“rough day, eh?” his accent makes you tilt your head towards him, he is really cute, you can’t lie. you nod your head tiredly and sip on your coffee. he stand up and takes the seat across from you and stick his hand out. “i’m tom, and you look like you could use a friend right now.” you shake his hand with a small smile and place the mug back down. “well, tom, how are you so good at reading people?” you pipe up after telling him your own name.
“it’s a talent i posses, love. can’t help it. i’m an empath.” his answer makes you laugh harder than you have in months. maybe this day wasn’t so bad after all. “there we go! you laughed, that was my whole goal. reckoned it would’ve taken longer, but i did it.” tom patted himself on the back as you shook your head with a small smile. “a woman of very few words, i see?”
you hum “i don’t know what to say to you, tom. a strange man approaches me in a cafe after i’ve had a bad day, what do i say to that?” he puts a finger on his chin to over exaggerate his thinking. “you could tell me about yourself, or i could tell you about myself. you just look lonely.” his eyes widen as he realizes he just called you lonely. he wasn’t wrong, but still hurt your feelings nonetheless.
“okay, i’m from california. everyone i know still lives there so it’s a little difficult to not be lonely here, but you don’t seem to be very not lonely. you’re sitting in a cafe by yourself and talking to strangers.” he throws his head back laughing. yeah, he’s really cute.
you come around and the armor folds, pierce the room like a cannonball.
after consistently hanging out with tom for a few months you’ve gotten into a routine. text tom good morning, tell him what you’re doing that day, and that you hope he has a good day. through him you’ve met some great friends, but you and rachel stuck together like glue instantly.
“so you’ve known tom for like seven months, and he still hasn’t come over to your apartment?” rachel asks in between sips of wine. you both sit on toms couch as the others are in the kitchen mixing drinks. “yes! i don’t know why i’m so nervous about it, it just feels too intimate for him to see it.” you and rachel giggle into eachother. it might be the wine, but you’ve never felt happier.
tom comes running into the living room, obviously drunk. “try this, i’ve perfected my concoction.” he shoves a foul smelling drink into your face. you look up at him and smile, “tom, this smells terrible. what the hell is in this?” he smells it himself and shrugs. “about a pour of everything.” you turn to rachel as if pleading for her to help. “i think i heard josh say he needs your help in the kitchen.” tom pipes up and struts back to the kitchen.
“someone needs to cut him off, he’s gonna be so sick tomorrow.” you manage to squeeze out in between your laughs. rachel wiggles her eyebrows at you “and you’ll be the one taking care of him.” you turn your head away from her with a pained expression. “i’m going to the kitchen to see what the hell they’re doing.”
so you were never a saint, and i loved in shades of wrong.
you lay flat on toms floor while he sits next to you, you’re talking about how you were as teenagers and before you met eachother. “no i was literally evil, i would ghost any girl that liked me.” toms cheeks are blushed from all the laughing. “i was the same way! i just never loved anyone right, and i was just really mean.” tom brushes a stray piece of hair out of your face that was stuck on your eyelashes. you stare up and him and swallow, you jet up to your feet. “i’m hungry, let’s go grab something.”
this is a state of grace, this is the worthwhile fight. love is a ruthless game.
josh, rachel, tom and you sit circled around your coffee table. monopoly laying on the table and wine in all of your hands. “that’s not fair! i’m in jail and josh gets to buy my properties?” you yell out as josh wheezes next to you. your eyes meet toms and you glance down at his wine stained lips. “you’re the bank, tom! tell him no and that i’m still a citizen!” “afraid you’ve dug your own grave, love. robbery does land you in jail.” he knowingly points his finger at you. “who said i committed robbery?! this is a corrupt world.”
rachel decided it might be best to put the game away before you actually do end up in jail for killing josh. the four of you sit on the couch watching some marvel movie. you turn your head to tom and whisper “so how did i commit robbery? what did i steal?” obviously still stuck on how you never won the game. he smirked down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “my heart, love.” you pull away from him and pretend to gag onto rachel, who is sound asleep.
this is the golden age of something good and right and real. and i never saw you coming.
you wake up blearily and sit up. then a wall of pain shoots into your head as you look to your surroundings. tom is in your bed next to you. oh my god. tom is in your bed. he groans and grabs his head “what time is it? and how much wine did we drink?” he asks, acting like this is just a normal situation. “i have no idea where my phone is and apparently a lot because i feel like i got hit by a train.” you croak out laying back down.
toms arm finds its home around your waist and he cuddles into your back. “let’s just go back to sleep.” you nod and try to push down the sheer panic rising throughout your form. when you awake a few hours later, tom is gone. almost disappointed you walk out into your living room and find rachel and josh sitting there looking quite grumpy. “are you guys oka-” josh shushes you and goes back to rubbing his temples. you mutter a small sorry and walk into your kitchen, seeing tom making coffee. his bed head and sleep ridden eyes make your stomach feel warm and fuzzy.
“good morning.” you grumble and he laughs. “it’s three o’clock in the afternoon.” you laugh with him and rest your head on the counter waiting for the coffee. “i didn’t think we drank that much last night, i don’t even remember most of it.” you confess with furrowed eyebrows trying to rake back through your memories.
tom looks almost solemn at your confession and nods. “yeah, me too. it’s all blurry.” he remembered everything. last nights escapades slowly come back as you think and you excuse yourself to the bathroom. thinking of what happened last night.
you and tom sat on your bedroom floor as you showed him all the books you’ve collected and his smile was so wide it made your heart jump at the sight. you rambled on and on about how you read the ballad of songbirds when it came out and how he channeled coriolanus so well but he was just staring at you, the wine coursing through both of your bloods. he lunged forward and captured your lips with his causing you to drop your book and wrap your arms around him.
you quickly brush your teeth and comb through your hair, trying to look somewhat decent. you slowly tread back into the kitchen and stare at tom. “i remember last night.” you quickly confessed. biting the inside of your cheek as tom turns to look at you. “do you regret it?” he quietly asks before you shake your head and step closer to him. “no, i don’t. i’ve liked you since i met you.” he smiles and wraps his arm around you while pouring your coffee into your favorite mug.
these are the hands of fate, you’re my achilles heel.
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holybatgirlz · 9 months
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@bridgertonbabe had me cackling over her bridgerton spouse support groupchat that I couldn't stop thinking about what the bridgerton sibling chat looked like in the aftermath of game night.
(All credit to Bridgertonbabe for this chaotic mess)
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🐝 The Children Group Chat 🐝
Violet: Alright. 
Violet: Who started it?
Anthony: Started what?
Hyacinth: What exactly is it u r referencing mother?
Violet: Oh you all know exactly what it is I am talking about. 
Violet: Who started the fight this time? 
Benedict: I did. It started. 
Violet: No. 
Violet: I know you probably fueled it once it began, but you didn’t start it. So once again I must ask.  
Violet: Who started the fight?
Eloise: Who told you we fought?
Violet: Sophie did. After I learned from Agatha that an ambulance was called for your husband.  
Eloise: He's fine Mum. He had a panic attack because Anthony wouldn’t get off his ass about the rules. 
Anthony: The rules clearly say when you land on someone's properties you have to pay them. Not my fault he couldn’t.
Eloise: He couldn’t pay u because u r a deranged asshole who puts interest on his properties like some money hungry slumlord.  
Eloise: Who puts interest rates in Monopoly? 
Francesca: It was my fault Mum. I started it.
Violet: NO
Violet: You and Benedict both hate confrontations. I know neither one of you started it. 
Violet: Who 
Violet: Started 
Violet: The fight
Violet: At Daphne’s game night?
Daphne: I would like to point out that Hyacinth is being abnormally quiet right now.
Hyacinth: Excuse me?!
Eloise: You were exceptionally vitriol with the rest of us that night. More so than usual.
Hyacinth: Mother. I feel like this would be a good time to inform you that Eloise broke a £5000 vase that night.  
Eloise: OMFG
Eloise: Et tu Brutus?
Hyacinth:
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Hyacinth: throw me under the bus again I dare u
Colin: You did throw it across a room. 
Colin: At my head I should add. 
Eloise: I purposefully aimed away from your head dummy. That’s why it hit the wall. 
Colin: 
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Colin: Did you?
Eloise: WELL HYACINTH BROUGHT A SWITCHBLADE. 
Hyacinth: Liar!!!!
Hyacinth: it’s a penknife. Not a switchblade. Get it right. 
Gregory: Yh Anthony still has her switchblade from when we all played Cluedo 
Colin: talk about Miss Hyacinth in the parlor with the knife. U nearly killed Benedict. And Gregory. And Simon!
Benedict: I still have the scar
Anthony: Not to mention the fire damage.
Gregory: Well the fire was Daphne’s fault.
Violet: Please do not remind me about the Cluedo incident. It gives me a migraine every time I think about the damage you all did to my house that night. 
Francesca: Isn’t even the most concerning part. Hyacinth. How did you get another knife? 
Hyacinth: It’s for protection
Francesca: That did not even remotely answer the question I asked you
Hyacinth: Gareth got it for me
Anthony: Gareth isn’t stupid enough to give you a weapon.
Hyacinth: He is after getting mugged 
Violet: 🫢 Gareth was mugged?
Hyacinth: He’s fine. He was a little shaken up but they didn’t get anything off of him. They just roughed him up a little and scared him.
Colin: Why do I have a sneaking suspicion you had some involvement in this mugging?
Hyacinth: Why would I mug my husband???
Benedict: Ulterior motives. As unreasonable as a theory that may sound. This is also you we are talking about. 
Colin: How do we know you didn’t mug him so that he would get your hands on another knife? 
Hyacinth: I plead the fifth
Anthony: Hyacinth!
Hyacinth: Again
Hyacinth: A £5000 vase was destroyed that night.
Hyacinth: And not by me.
Eloise: if anyone is at fault it’s Daphne. It was her idea. 
Daphne: Why am I at fault for trying to have a nice family get together?
Francesca: Because u should have known this is exactly what would have happened
Violet: Must I remind you all that you nearly gave Phillip a heart attack. The poor man had to spend the night there for observation. 
Benedict: And you all made Sophie cry
Eloise: Jesus Christ. She’s pregnant Benedict. Ofc she’s going to cry. She literally cried last week telling me about the tiny baby shoes she crocheted. 
Daphne: In her defense. They were adorable.  
Benedict: 😤😤😤 They are the cutest little baby shoes. I’m so excited to see my daughter wearing them. 
Benedict: But that’s not the point. You yelled at her Eloise.
Eloise: Because she wasn’t doing anything except sitting on the couch while Phillip was hyperventilating.
Benedict: Maybe because she’s SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT AND CAN’T MOVE!
Eloise: omg Benedict get over it 
Benedict: my wife was in tears over what happened and then you and Kate both felt the need to gang up on her because she wouldn’t hand her remaining cash to you.
Eloise: She was leaving.
Benedict: BECAUSE she was the one who went with Phillip to A&E because YOU were too busy arguing with Daphne about the income tax rule.
Eloise: It was unreasonable and unnecessary for me to have to pay it because I had more money than the rest of you
Daphne: Says known socialist Eloise Bridgerton 
Eloise removed Daphne from the chat
Anthony added Daphne to the chat
Daphne: Bitch
Violet: Daphne do not call your sister a bitch
Eloise: Bitch Bitch
Violet: ELOISE!
Gregory: I think it's safe to say that Anthony’s unreasonable rules are what led to the conflict starting. We all know he’s the most competitive.
Colin: Agreed
Eloise: Agreed
Daphne: Yeah that’s true
Hyacinth: Agreed
Anthony: Because Gregory isn’t the reason we have to have them in the first place. You cheat. All the time.
Gregory: Well I learned it from you didn’t I?
Anthony: You hid all the tokens so that Lucy could pick one first.
Anthony: Then you pressured her into teaming up with you after she claimed all the good spots. Then you started extorting and threatening the rest of us. Not to mention I am genuinely concerned you do not know how interest rates work given the numbers you were giving us were completely off. And I will not even discuss your blatant disrespect for the get out jail free card. 
Anthony: What do you have to say for yourself?
Gregory: That my wife didn’t key a car
Colin: oh snap
Daphne: WHAT?!?!?
Daphne: SHE DID WHAT?!!
Colin: 🤣🤣🤣 it was Kate who did it!?
Gregory: Yh apparently Amelia caught her in 4K HD keying Simon’s car while Phillip was being loaded into the ambulance. 
Daphne: KATE WAS THE ONE WHO KEYED SIMON’S CAR?!?
Gregory sent a video.
Violet: Good lord.
Violet: Why are you all like this?
Anthony: I would like to make it clear I will neither condemn nor condone my wife’s actions. She is her own woman and will do what she wishes without my input or opinion.  
Anthony: However it wasn’t as though it was without reason. 
Francesca: Omfg Anthony
Hyacinth: Gregory how the hell do you know this??
Colin: How did you get the video?
Gregory: because MY WIFE loves me and sent me the video when she told me about it
Violet: how the hell did all eight of you inherit your father’s competitive streak?? 
Violet: EIGHT. We had eight children and you all got it. It’s not normal. 
Francesca: Mother. If I may. 
Francesca: We’ve all seen how you get watching baking shows. 
Violet: That is not the same and you know it!
Francesca: Mother. Again. 
Francesca: I say this with nothing but love and respect.
Francesca: Anthony had to restrict the Food Channel on the cable box for three years after you broke the TV. You literally are not allowed to be left alone when The Great British Bake Off is on.
Francesca: I’m quite certain the reason we are all like this is because dad’s competitiveness got mixed in with your insane stubbornness.
Violet removed Francesca from the chat.
Hyacinth: Omg Mum did you banish Francesca to the shadow realm!?!
Gregory: I had no idea she even knew how to do that
Violet removed Gregory from the chat.
Hyacinth: GREGORY NOOoooo
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lavenderbuckyy · 1 year
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stevie headcanons for his birthday! ❤️
wakes up at 5 am EVERY DAY to go for a run
sometimes he has so much energy in his body he HAS to do something physical, like go running or use an exercise machine. bucky calls it the zoomies 😭
with this excess energy, he fidgets a lot. rubbing his hands together, tapping his foot/jigging his leg, cracking his knuckles/neck
he knows sign language!
he's a total introvert and needs time to recharge. he doesn't like big events or parties and prefers low-key time with friends
irish accents always remind him of his ma. sometimes when he hears one in public, he feels like he's back in his apartment in brooklyn with her
(he's fond of F.R.I.D.A.Y. for this reason)
he's a great listener. the avengers come to him when they have a problem because they know he truly cares and he'll pay full attention
on days off he likes exploring different museum exhibits in brooklyn
burns in the sun sooo easily, he's constantly reapplying suncream. when the avengers have beach days, he always has to sheepishly walk up to someone and ask them to do his back
his favourite colour is blue!
although he's more of a cat person, steve is fond of golden retrievers. no real reason, he just thinks they're neat
awkward around kids, but he tries his best
this man is so well hydrated. he brings his reusable water bottle everywhere and is constantly sipping on it
orders sharing platters just for himself at restaurants bc of his metabolism
he has a lot of respect for natasha; she's one of the first people he truly came to trust in the 21st century. they spar together a lot!
he loves the smell of apples cooking 🍏
his movie night snack of choice is salted popcorn
likes strategy games like chess, battleships, etc. he's an absolute MENACE at monopoly and nobody wants to play with him
he is truly haunted by star spangled man with a plan and rappin' with cap
his hair gets lighter and more golden in the sun. natural highlights 🌤️ plus he gets little freckles across his shoulders and nose!
he is so sappy on the inside fr ❤️
prefers pancakes > waffles (he and bucky fight over this)
he attends a lot of protests (e.g. women's rights march 2017), both because he cares and because he knows it'll bring more media attention to the issue if he attends
he is so touched by the fan letters he gets from little kids. he keeps them all, but he sticks up his absolute favourite artwork on the fridge
pretends to not understand modern technology just to aggravate tony
uses perfect punctuation and caps in his texts — except he leaves out full stops at the end of sentences because he thinks it "makes him sound annoyed" 😭
hates doing dishes. usually he just rinses off his plate/mug and leaves it in the sink for later
bottles up his feelings. usually he exercises as a way to work out his frustration, but he won't talk to someone until he's at breaking point or they make him
absolutely awful at first-person shooter games
he hates lemon desserts and sour candy. bur he loves lemonade... hmm 🤨
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ghostherlig · 9 months
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even more random hcs!!
bc i probably wont be home until after christmas :')
anyway, take more johnrailaoshi bc ive been thinking about them all day-
(if you saw this early no you didnt- im stupid and pressed the wrong button-)
raiden really loves valentine's day bc it gives him extra reason to show his appreciation for the people he loves in his life- he always hand makes cards and folds origami pieces for his bfs to find around the house- he went all out one year and made each of them a jar full of paper stars
johnny and kung lao's favorite holiday is halloween!! they go all out for costumes and always decorate the house to match- johnny even hires smaller actors to dress up and play characters outside with him and lao to have fun with the kids- they have a scare actor section and a section for cartoon characters
kenshi's favorite holiday is christmas!! he doesnt have a lot of fond memories from childhood, but after johnny first asked kenshi to celebrate christmas with him, oh that man was hooked- johnny was happy to see kenshi beam all throughout december, holding warm mugs and wrapped in blankets since the cold always got to him
jax and johnny still have this kind of strange rivalry, esp when kenshi is around- kenshi thinks it's funny bc most of the time it's them trying to out do each other with history facts, but both just end up having a nice convo.... it's the only time kenshi can get paperwork done without headaches
lao and raiden still have mini bets they place with each other all the time- half the time kenshi and johnny find out abt them bc lao brags abt winning- raiden bets poorly on purpose sometimes bc he knows lao likes to win and it only costs him a little..... sometimes he humbles lao, though (the superbowl is the biggest bet of the year for them)
raiden isnt known to swear, but his favorite song is "I Don't Fuck With You" by Big Sean (thanks kung lao) and he can be heard singing the lyrics, uncensored and all, randomly
kenshi can very easily peel or cut any kind of fruit- apples, oranges, pomegranates, persimmons, pineapple, watermelon, anything- if he is handed a fruit and asked to cut it he will and it will be fast and done beautifully
raiden has johnny do his hair!! braids is usually the most common style outside of his bun, but johnny always insists on doing his hair if they're going out-
kenshi has lao help him cut his hair!! lao does his own undercut and knows his way around a buzzer/clippers- the first time lao asked to cut kenshi's hair the swordsman was unsure, but he decided it wouldnt hurt and lao did it perfectly and has done it since
johnny has a cameo on a sooby doo episode!! he somehow convinced them to put him in an episode with the hex girls and it actually was so awesome-
johnny is super good with puzzles- like insanely good- kenshi, lao, and raiden just started getting him those really fancy puzzle boxes for christmas/his bday and he's cracked every single one without fail-
they have board game nights!! monopoly and uno have been banned- but when everyone is over their favorite game to play is 'one night ultimate werewolf'
for several years johnny has done a Santa Livestream on his insta and has donated a lot of money to charities that buy gifts for kids in need as well as done fundraisers to get others to chip in too- he got tomas, syzoth, kuai liang, lao, and raiden to help him keep people entertained on the live- kenshi even agreed to do a "face reveal" if they hit ten million in a day- they hit the goal in six hours
raiden and tomas are actually pretty close as friends- both bond over their combat abilities and their lives in general, and both have dragged the other into different media- now they watch episodes of different series' weekly and talk over the phone about it- their bf's know better than to interrupt them on the phone with each other
lao is the only Only Child in their polycule- raiden has his sister, johnny his brother, and i hc kenshi as having an older sister and a younger brother-
johnny will randomly start dancing, sometimes bc he just has a song stuck in his head, other times bc he just needs to move- his bf's always smile when they catch him- the most extreme move any of them have seen him do is drop into a split
none of them are fond of using their powers for silly or stupid reasons... however, each of them have definitely used their powers in a way they werent supposed to- kenshi has for sure used his telekenesis inappropriately, raiden has used his lightning to cook smth, kung lao has used his force/air manipulation to throw things at ppl, and johnny uses his weird shadow powers (give him his green back ]:) to scare his bfs-
johnny owns the house, bc it's a five bedroom, six and a half bath, super expensive house- it gives each of them their own room and then a shared room with a big asf bed, a nnice kiving room, incredible kitchen, big dining room for guests, a wine cellar, in home gym, etc- literally a second mansion-
as soon as anyone gets sick, raiden makes chicken congee- he got the recipe from madam bo after he told her him and lao were moving to stay with johnny for a while- she was happy to give him the recipe and even showed him how to de-bone a whole chicken for it
johnny is actually so interested in tarantulas- he thinks they look super cool and that some of the colors and patterns are really pretty- if kenshi and lao werent as insect averse he would definitely get one
lao's favorite reptile (after syzoth) is the arabian sand boa (pls google these guys, they're adorable-)
kenshi really loves reptiles and has always wanted a leopord gecko or a hognose snake- but he fears not having enough time for one with work and his bf's
johnny very lovingly refers to raiden as his wife after kenshi made a joke abt johnny "wife-ing" him by making him his favorite meal- raiden always gets flustered bc johnny is very open abt opening an LLC with them all as a kind of "poly marriage loophole"-
they all have jewelry that they wear as sort of "promise" jewelry that they almost never take off- johnny has his silver bracelet/band, kenshi has a steel ring, raiden has an anklet, and lao has a necklace
johnny, to his personal assistant and manager, refers to his bf's as "The Council" and always answers scheduling questions with "i'll have to consult with The Council"- it's rubbed off on the other three which has to led to raiden telling liu kang he cant give him a firm answer bc he has yet to "speak with The Council" (liu got flashbacks to "I Must Consult With the Elder Gods-")
johnny makes the worst jokes abt US tragedies- the jfk assassination is his personal fave bc he knows he can mess with kenshi with it- "it blows my mind that you can be so childish, cage-" "yknow who else got his mind blown-" "JOHNATHAN CARLTON-"
lao still has his first chakram hat and it's hung up in the mansion living room- all of them will stare at it or remember it's there and think back to lao telling the story of his Inspiration (thanks bi han)
raiden really loves smoothies, especially mango- he will down a mango smoothie if you hang him one-
johnny has all kinds of videos on his phone of all of them doing stupid shit- his favorites are one of kenshi drunkenly eating takoyaki out of the fridge, turning to face the camera with his cheeks full- one of raiden mumbling "i dont fuck with you" under his breath, panning to lao and kenshi who look at raiden like he just vacuumed their hamster- and one of lao dancing for a good minute, really, really well, just to trip at the very end and scream-
johnny has a lot of those videos and goes through them whenever he misses his bf's
raiden will send videos of cats playing or napping together and caption them "us" and send them to whoever or to the gc- all of his bf's always melt and go to find him and give him a kiss if they're in the house together or they'll send back a little emoji if they're apart
you'd think johnny is the worst but kenshi is the most overdramatic abt not getting attention- like "my husband is off to war" levels of dramatic- lao had to get up to use the bathroom and kenshi sighed like a sickly victorian, put his hand over his forehead and monologued until lao came back- he does the same to raiden and johnny, always "why has my love left me?? i am always abandoned by my dearest... beloved, where have you gone? why have you forsaken me??" "i need to pee, ken-" "am i so unimportant?? so easily forgotten???? so unloved??????" "🙄✋️ okay-"
johnny isnt as dramatic but he does pout and sigh and sometimes follow his bf's around until they love on him a little- johnny needs the little pick-me-up's but kenshi normally waits until he needs a full battery recharge
the four of them talk shit like there's no tomorrow- you do not want to be on the recieving end of their judgemental staring- each of their side eyes alone could kill someone, all of them together??? good fuckin luck-
johnny is mesmerized by the snow- kenshi, raiden, and lao all grew up with it, but johnny isnt used to it since he was born and raised in CA and enjoys the sunny weather- so when kenshi or lao and raiden take him to japan or china during the snowy season he's always so excited- the other three love it bc his cheeks get so pink in the cold
raiden gets super flustered when one of them gives him affection and attention, but all three are evil and will pile affection and attention on him to watch him squirm and act all shy- raiden loves it but also knows to tell them when he's overwhelmed
lao knows all of his bf's humor and how to make them laugh- johnny and kenshi laugh at lao's darker jokes- johnny especially likes anti-jokes- raiden likes puns and "a ____ walked into a bar-" type jokes- kenshi also cant help but laugh at people doing stupid things and kenshi and raiden laugh together at children falling- (older sibling moment)
raiden gets super lovey sometimes and will write out in letters how he feels about his bf's and slide them under their doors- all of them have a drawer or folder or smth that stores all of the letters
lao is the only one with a real sleep schedule- he's a morning person and goes to bed by 10 almost every night- raiden tends to get distravted watching tv, and kenshi and johnny tend to overwork themselves and work into the night and wee hours
sleep is usually tough for all of them anyway (lao takes melatonin to be asleep early) bc of all that they've seen and experienced- they all like congregating in their shared room to sleep together but sometimes they go off to their own rooms when they need/want the privacy or peace
that's all for now- wishing everyone a happy holidays!! <333 hopefully im back home soon :') also pls excuse any typos, it is 2 am-
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tassodelmiele · 3 months
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Skin's red where the heart beats the most
Soft, warm, sad, with a gentle ending Ghost x Soap
Yes, yes, there's no smut in here, what in the bloody hell it's happening omg.
Menstruation hit just worst than usual this month, and I NEEDED something sad but kind, with tears but hugs.
I was about to draw a thing 'bout it, but my drawing abilty had just flew out of the window.
Sorry for the unrequested sadness. And for the totally random verbal tenses.
What a month.
What a period of time.
What a what, in the goddamn whatever, are we living.
..........
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<Why red?>
He had pointed his sight at the drawing, hazel eyes on the brushed shadow around the sketched man's shoulder and chest as if it was a life print. Ghost had made Soap stop with a single glance and those two words muffled under the balaclava.
<'S blood. Changes the skin's tone>
<On the shoulders?>
<Here's just a bit reddere ‘cause of rendering reasons. Also, 's where the sun hits the most>
<So where's the blood?>
The colored pencil made one last stroke before the rest. Soap's fingers were brushed on the rough paper surface, a caress so gentle that Ghost had almost felt it on himself.
<The chest. Just a little saturation, here where veins do their most>
<Pretty sure 'm not that saturated>
And that was when Soap's gaze had turned to Simon, sited behind him like a judgmental wall, curled in crossed arms, hoodie and gloves and with eyes hitting the dim light of the safe house. A glimpse of curiosity hit the work of art, and the artist's reply was a mumbled:
<'S just a sketch, Lt.>
<A pretty good one> and that made Soap chuckle in his gear. <Anatomy seems accurate enough>
<Are ye some kinda art critique?>
<Just giving ma bare opinion on it. I've seen ya drawing for a bloody eternity>
<What ‘bout the red, then? I’ve done it before>
<Dunno, if I have to give my take on it> Ghost had lowered just what was needed to peek at the portrait a little better, mumbled on Soap's shoulder: <Ya've drawn more accurately than this. I don't spot red on my chest, unless I'm bleeding>
<What about when ye’re bruised?>
Soap had turned so suddenly, jerking his torso in a rotation move that had almost made his spine squeak.
And in a blink of an eye, he had been facing the Lieutenant's big, black disguised eyes, the solo glimpse of warm light in a silent night concert. 
<What 'bout> he had kept on asking with his eyelids steady, not willing to lose a single bit of that eye contact <when ye feel?>
Ghost had frowned.
<Like, when I feel the bruise?>
And Soap's shoulders had made a little jump.
<Whatever ye bloody want to>
It could have ended there, hidden between the cracked wall; a secret held for eternity, signed in red and locked with the last mixed glance of ancient gold and deep water.
It could have ended in a glimpse of an eye, a wing stroke, just the recall of a shadow on the wall.
But that shadow was hanging on his masked face, livid in the colors of a death that was not calculated, not researched, not wanted.
...
<Lt.?>
Stormy thoughts had gotten him so well he didn't even realize Soap had come in, a big cup of tea in one hand and a worried sight printed on his face, stronger than his curiosity.
Sergeant wavered on the doorstep.
The only window was open; so peculiar, so odd, almost atypical. Nothing more than warm summer air was flying through the small meeting room, emptied just one hour ago to speak about the order of the day. Nothing particular: some kinda illegal traffic carried on by a Mexican family, something about new members of the cartel that were trying to get a piece of the drug monopoly cake. 
Ordinary, common matters to be discussed in the Task Force's file filled with every crumb of sin traceable in human's brain.
Everything was good. Everything was about to be calculated.
But a name.
And the flame's echo had caged the walls with him inside, suddenly tied by the throat in front of a flashback he had prayed to be able to not see anymore in his sleep.
The light, wooden sound of the mug put on the table was enough to warn Ghost how much Soap was near his scratched eyes; he turned to the window, pretending a masked ball of boldness and a cough of disappointment. 
<Ye've stayed here for a bloody hour>
No comments. Johnny came closer with the audacity of a famished cat trying to share the same prey with a wolf, head down, ears up and heart gulped deep in the guts.
‘Cause that was the correct reaction, the right amount of feeling digging a hole in his chest, chocking his breath at the sight of a living reference, a statue hidden in the dark, some sorta totem he’d looked at in the worst night possible, through crossfires and death sentences, just as a baby could stare at his star-shaped light bulb and feeling safe before falling asleep.
And how do you explain to a kid that a bad, big, scary man had broken into his room and tore his light into pieces?
Two minutes of silence sounded like an eternity. Soap gulped a breath, lowering his eyes just to pretend to not have seen Ghost's back jerk under a hidden sob.
<Sorry> he just muttered, ready to leave the room stiffed with something that was just scraping his heart apart.
Till something brushed his hand; and his heart skipped a couple beats as eyes caught Ghost's fingers trying to lace a bond between the two of them, his hand just as close as what it was needed to touch him in a rush before Soap got away.
And he was so desperate, so vivid in his need to be held and have his brain teared apart by tears, that Simon didn't even think about how it would have been better tear away the water from his gold-engraved irid before showing himself wet and broken, fallen.
Lost.
The mug attended silently at the outburst, almost trembling on the table as Johnny caught Simon by the hoodie, pulling him toward him with digits digging in the black fabric, surrounding every inch of that man so big he was difficult to handle, even all curled on himself. Ghost felt his head being pushed into Soap's hollow neck, and there he allowed himself to breathe a low, grumbled, chocked cry, wetting the sergeant's t-shirt with no more regret.
Arms squeezed muscles at their limits just to try and hold Simon together, to not let him slip away in his dangerous train of thoughts about to derail.
<If just I→. Lips were bitten, not enough though, and Soap kept on murmuring: <If just I could kill that bastard- > 
Just to be stopped by an almost inaudible: <'S ok>, whispered muffled on his t-shirt.
Johnny's answer was a stronger hold onto Ghost, and the end of the sentence was a spit:
<I would do it. A million times>
‘Cause Roba’s name was too fresh as a wound, still opened on Simon's heart, still hurting so bad. And, of course, everyone could read a bloody dossier, nothing special about the whole task force knowing there was something still buried and burning behind the skull mask.
Everyone could read.
Feeling was something else, though.
Just a heart pierced by a poisoned nail could have been compared with what Soap had seen in Ghost's eyes when Roba's name had appeared on their files.
<I'll survive>
That had been Ghost's excuse since the dawn of time. 
<No>
Johnny's digits started a light move, catching the Lt. by surprise as the fingers moved so gently around the balaclava, brushing it in a kind motion as he allowed Simon to just dig a safe place in his chest. 
<Ye'll live>
Hands touched the mask as delicately as if they were handling a crystal jewel, engraving every bit of covered skin with the tact of an artist cleaning his masterpiece from dust, adjusting the lights and darkness with gentle brushes, setting the most precious ruby in the tiniest gold nest.
Then, with a last, warm, unexpected kiss, Johnny knocked on Simon's doorstep, quietly putting his fingers through the mask, just the tip, just to ask if he, maybe, could come in and bring him some quiet, some calm, some serenity.
Simon's back started to jerk, little by little, in an overflowing crescendo he had kept caged for a little too long.
And Johnny let him do everything, accepted every tear, embraced every silent weep suffocated on his chest, ready to become a safe blanket for once in his life. His fingers dug a little deeper under Simon's balaclava, pressing gently on the scratched skin he was trying to map under his touch. A warm, nice wave, maybe a little wet, entangled Soap's hands.
<I could draw you blindfolded> he whispered, framing Simon on him to better shape himself to be what the man needed to feel finally safe, protect, shield, just for a minute, the time of a couple heartbeats would have been enough.
Ghost's cheeks welcomed Soap's touch, burying little by little in that safe nest with a slow, clumsy jiggling motion.
<See?> Johnny asked, looking through his hands as if he was making Simon's soul a portrait in red and gold, brushing two delicate blushed strokes with his fingers where the skin was warmer, where the tears had dug a little more, where there was needed a little bit of kindness. 
<I was right. Feeling does make skin red>
..........
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vitchimage · 7 months
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—;Logan Walker flips things (HC)
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I just imagine him when he was little during board games like ludo, those snake ladder board game, monopoly, chess, anything, he just flips the board when he gets mad or pissy.
Man was such a drama queen when he was young
It kinda grows as a habit for him later in life. And Logan isn’t much of a talker, that’s for sure.
So during briefing or meeting or anything, out of nowhere he flips the papers, or files or pens or even the table, just out of the blue, because he is pissy and mad. 😊
Everyone kinda just stands there like: 🧍‍♂️
It’s funnier in the mess hall or around the base, because out of nowhere when someone is talking to him and he gets all irritated, like the drama queen he is, he flips their coffee mug or tea, or drink or whatever they are holding (more like knocking it out of the person’s hand)
Does not really give a fuck “shit sorry, old habits die hard”
ESPECIALLY when it comes to his brother Hesh. This guy flips not only his things he might be holding or is around him but also flips him off and walks off silently not even apologising (bribes him though later 👍)
They eventually get used to it though 😭
Sadly he can’t flip things when he is in a pit of jail in a jungle or forest thanks to RORKE, except for that one leaf or plant or dirt, maybe even flip Rorke off (free my man pls, he has been there for years bro-)
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End.
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bullet-prooflove · 7 months
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Choices!Series Part Three: The Agency - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader (NSFW) - (feat: Michelle Hanna)
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @novamariestark @words-and-seeds @whateversomethingbruh @a-noni-love @reneejett4 @trublu2u
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Sabatino turns up at Michelle’s house the next day. He waits until she’s dropped Kam off at school and Sam’s left for work before he raps his knuckles on the door. She can tell he’s in dire straits the instant she sees him. His smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes and he looks exhausted. She knows the feeling well. This was coming for a while now. The job is wearing him down, eroding him.
There’s the other side of it of course, the personal side. The two of you have been together over four years by now, the longest relationship Sabatino has had since she’s known him. When he returns to LA, he lives in your house with his guitar and the antique vinyl player his father left him. It speaks volumes that he trusts you with his most precious possessions.
When you come over for dinner, she sees the way you look at each other. Sabatino is lighter when you’re around, his joy more evident. She sees the fun, idealistic young man he was when he first joined The Agency, not the weathered soldier that he’s become.
She can tell the relationship has reached it’s breaking point. She’s surprised it’s taken this long. You’re a patient woman, more flexible than most but this is what happens when you fall in love with a CIA Officer. It becomes a war between love and duty. One will always outweigh the other.
He’s studying the debris on her fridge when she hands him the mug of coffee. It’s a collection of magnets, leaflets from Kam’s school and pictures of the family she’s created with Sam. She wonders if he’s imagining his own future, days filled with school schedules and late-night feeds, a dark-haired boy or girl cuddled up in his lap as he watches Moana or reads them a bedtime story. He’d make a good father she thinks, he’d spend evenings with both Kam and Aiden when they were younger playing Monopoly and Mouse Trap.
“You ready to talk about it?” She asks him, tilting her head towards the dining table. He nods before taking up residence in his usual seat. His hand wraps around his mug, his thumb chasing up the porcelain. She waits for a moment allowing the silence to sit before Sabatino opens his mouth to speak.
“I want to get out.”
“I think you’ve wanted that for a while.” Michelle tells him as she clasps her own mug to her chest “I know what it looks like. You’re tired Sabatino, I think you have been for a long time.”
The edges of his mouth twitch up into a grim smile before he takes a sip of his coffee.
“I am.” He tells her, before leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. “I’m not living, not really. I want my own life, one where I can actually sleep next to the woman I love for more than a week, without having to shoot off to God knows where to talk to God knows who.”
“You know they won’t want to let you go.” Michelle says quietly. “The ops you’ve ran, the sources you’ve cultivated, you’ve become indispensable.”
“I know.” He says with a bitter laugh. “Who knew being so good at my job would be so detrimental?”
Michelle bows her head, her gaze shifting to the coffee inside her mug. She was in the exact same position once upon a time. Too valuable to be set free, no matter how much she wanted it. She kept a little insurance though just in case, she always had an exit strategy. Sabatino though, she didn’t think he had the same foreplaning, but she had ideas though, ways he could leverage the work he’s done to get a free pass.
It may take a few of months but she’s confident they can find a way to give him a clean break, one that won’t result in the CIA dogging his footsteps or taking out ‘the problem’.
“If you’re serious about leaving, we can do this.” She reassures him. “We can put a plan in place that’ll get you out. We just have to be clever about it.”
“Why do you think I came here?” He asks her, his lips tipping up into his first genuine smile of the day. “You’re the smartest person I know, and if there’s a way, I know you’ll find it.”
***
You’re watching the Great British Bake-Off when Sabatino knocks on the door to your house. The two of you live together, he has a key, but at times like this when your relationship is in flux he always knocks. It’s his way of respecting your boundaries.
“I thought you’d be halfway across the world right now.” You say as you gesture for him to come inside.
You’re definitely still pissed at him; he can tell from the bite in your tone and the fact you’re very clearly spite watching the British Bake-Off finale without him. He isn’t sure if it’s because he disappeared with that painting or because of the conversation he walked away from before the op. He assumes it’s a combination of both.
“Alright, alright. I deserved that.” He says holding his hands up in surrender before he takes a seat on the couch and pats the space beside of him. “You gonna sit down for a sec? I need to talk to you about something.”
You sigh as you drop down alongside of him. He reaches out for your hand, taking it in his. His thumb chases over your ring finger, the place where yesterday a platinum wedding band resided, the one that had started this entire transition.
“I love you. It’s important to me that you know that.” He says, his voice rough with emotion. “You mean the world to me, and I want a life with you, one where we can be together…”
“I want that too.” You whisper as you meet his eyes. “I want…”
You let the sentence hang and Sabatino’s lips brush softly over yours. It’s an act of reassurance, he wants you to know that this is a safe space, to air your needs, your wants, your hopes for the future with him.
“You can tell me anything.” He encourages you. “You know you can.”  
“I want you to be in my life Nik.” You tell him as his forehead comes to rest upon yours “I want you to be present. What we’ve been doing isn’t working for me anymore, I need…”
“You need more.” He says with understanding. “And I want that too. I do. There’s an opening in the US Marshall’s office coming up, the LA division. I’m going to take it.”
“The Agency…” You whisper.
He swallows hard because the next steps are going to be hardest and he needs you to lend him some of your strength because without it, he’s not sure he’s going to make it.
“We’re not to see each other for a little while.” He tells you, his lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth. There’s a sadness in his voice, a quiet devastation because this is the price of freedom. Six months abroad overseeing his successor, it’s like the CIA are cutting out his heart and squeezing it right before his eyes. “It’s part of the deal. To separate from them I have to disappear, train the new guy, introduce him to my contacts, help him build those relationships. It means I can’t come home; I can’t be with you.”
It's a blow, he can see it in your eyes but there’s also a hope there, the promise of a brighter future. One that starts when he buries the remains of his old life beneath your feet.
“When do you leave?” You ask him, your fingertips trailing over his cheekbone, and he closes his eyes, savouring your touch because this is going to be the last time for a little while and he wants to remember this when he’s lying in his bunk alone.
“Tonight.” He whispers as he kisses you with a tenderness that he reserves for nobody else. “I have to leave tonight.”
***
Sabatino spends the next couple of hours tangled up in you, his fingers in your hair as he makes love to you in the bed you share. His lips ghost along the line of your jaw as your breath hitches and he knows he has you right there on the edge.
“Not yet,” He whisper, his thumb trailing along your lower lip. “I’m not ready for it to be over yet.”
He keeps you on the pinnacle of release for an age, his heated skin chasing over yours until he has you desperate and overwrought. Still, he doesn’t relent, he holds you there, thighs gripping his hips, his hands chasing over your curves, his dick buried deep.
He wants to remember this moment, to commit it to memory because this is what he’s going to be thinking about when he’s alone out there in the world. You and only you.
When he can’t hold back any longer, when the ecstasy becomes too much, he kisses you. He pours his entire heart and soul into it because he wants you to know exactly how he feels, he wants you to have no doubts. The next six months are going to be torture but he’s looking beyond that, to the life that lays ahead of you both, the one that ends with him being your husband, and you becoming his wife.  
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diorkyeom · 1 year
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‘✷’ : CHAPTER ONE “friendly acquaintances (maybe)”
chapter one | ao3 | next chapter >>
joshua x dokyeom, slice of life, non-idols, fluff, pining, literature teacher!dokyeom, music teacher!joshua
chapter word count: 4.8k+
chapter warnings: swearing, drinking
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summary: "lately, seokmin had come to a realisation. joshua hong, seokmin thought, was a little bit of an enigma." - in which seokmin has known joshua for years, but he's always been a bit of a mystery to him. and as the days go by, he finds himself falling further and further for the enigmatic man, wanting to find out who the real Joshua Hong is behind his polite smiles and warm eyes and sweet words.
notes: and so.... it begins :)
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Lately, Seokmin had come to a realisation.
Joshua Hong, Seokmin thought, was a little bit of an enigma.
It was a realisation that came to him during one of their monthly Game Night gatherings at Jeonghan’s and Joshua’s house, and was also a realisation that made his drunk brain rattle around a little, startled by having such a strange thought when he should have been screaming his lungs out because of Soonyoung cheating during Monopoly again.
It wasn't like Seokmin didn't know anything about Joshua at all. But Joshua was just a little… harder to pin down, personality-wise.
A little quieter, certainly not shy, but more…reserved. Less willing to explain his entire life story to anyone who would listen.
Unlike Seungkwan.
“And then Jeonghan hyung said—very politely, very professionally—‘Sir, what the fuck is wrong with you?’” Seungkwan was saying, exaggerated accent and all, and everyone descended into shrieks of laughter again.
“Why would you say something like that?” Mingyu gasped, looking over at Jeonghan, who had been the subject of Seungkwan’s latest story retelling.
Jeonghan, pink with laughter, had his mug of beer dangling precariously in one hand (they always ran out of proper glasses) and when he shrugged, it spilled onto the armrest of the couch he was perched on. “Our professor was crazy as shit,” he said, laughing. “Who gives their students only five days to write a four-page analysis paper on Frankenstein?”
As usual, Game Night had deteriorated from playing actual games to simply regaling each other with stories from their uni days. Seokmin loved it, loved practically crying into Soonyoung’s lap as Jeonghan told them all for the fiftieth time how he managed to (unintentionally) get Wonwoo and Mingyu together. He loved yelling at Seungkwan for making a story too over-the-top and nothing like how it was in real life, loved telling his own tales that make people fall to the floor in tears.
“So did he extend the deadline?” Seungcheol asked, and Seokmin shook his head.
“He shortened it,” he said, and there were screams once again as Seungkwan jumped up and immediately began to impersonate their horrible literature professor.
Seokmin’s head was pounding a little, buzzing with alcohol and his own voice ringing in his ears as he yelled further additional qualities that their professor had to Seungkwan. He clapped his hands together, satisfied, when Seungkwan squinted his eyes and curled his lips snidely in a perfect imitation of their professor. Seungkwan then accidentally slapped Soonyoung across the face with his hands and Seokmin roared with laughter, slumping back against the couch, the floor cold underneath him, Chan’s knee digging into his back.
That was when he looked over at Joshua, sitting there on the floor a little ways opposite him, smiling.
Huh.
Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Joshua hadn’t been with them for the entire time. Some years ago, fresh out of university, Jeonghan had announced that he’d be buying a house with his best friend, and that was the first time any of them had heard anything about Joshua Hong. 
They’d all met him for the first time at the housewarming party Jeonghan had had, and he’d pinched Mingyu’s cheeks and asked Jihoon if he was the youngest out of the group and that had been that. Instantly, Joshua had joined their group of friends, and had become their thirteenth and final member.
But watching Joshua sit back, chuckling to himself as Seungkwan now had to deal with a drunk and grumpy Soonyoung, imitations forgotten, Seokmin was reminded of how much of an outsider Joshua might feel.
“Hyung,” Seokmin called out to him, and it took a few tries over the sound of Soonyoung’s wailing cries, but eventually Joshua looked at him and smiled.
“Hello,” Joshua said as Seokmin eventually shuffled successfully across the floor to sit next to him. “How are you?”
Something about the casual, polite greeting made Seokmin laugh. “You don’t sound very drunk, hyung.”
Joshua chuckled. “Well, Jeonghan looks absolutely wasted, and we need at least one sober person to clean up this mess after you all leave.”
“Ah.” Seokmin nodded in understanding, grinning. He could feel his face stretching into a smile, big and wide and he didn’t know why he was smiling so much, but there was something so gentle about Joshua’s presence that made it easy to smile. “That makes sense.”
There was a brief respite in conversation between the two, and Soonyoung’s voice filtered through once again. The subject of the room's conversation had changed, which was unsurprising given their group's short attention span, and it looked like he was trying some sort of interpretive dance in the middle of the room and, considering the way Hansol was lying dead on the floor, Seokmin thought that there was a good chance that someone was going to get hurt if this continued.
That was what he yelled out at them, hands cupped over his mouth, adding more noise to the room that was already thundering with screams and shouts, and it was a small wonder he even managed to get himself heard. Well, Seokmin prided himself (just a little) for his loud voice.
“You don’t sound like you’re going to help them, though,” Joshua said, teasing and soft all at the same time, once Seokmin took his hands away from his mouth.
Seokmin just grinned. “Nope! Why would I?”
That made Joshua laugh, and Seokmin smiled.
“Don’t you have any interesting stories from your uni days?” Seokmin asked after a moment, and Joshua tilted his head. “You know, hyung, I feel like I know so little about you.”
Joshua just laughed again. “You know plenty about me, Seokmin.”
And he grinned, brightly, so it made Seokmin grin too. But after a moment, the little guy in charge of comprehension in his brain managed to get to understanding what Joshua said, and he frowned. 
“Wait, like what?”
Joshua looked over at him, and his eyes were glittering, looking almost like whirring metal cogs as he looked Seokmin up and down. Seokmin felt a little like he was being analysed.
Eventually, though, Joshua just smiled, nudging his shoulder.
“You really don’t listen to me when I say things, huh?” he was all he said, before draining his cup and getting up. “I’m going to go get some more water.”
Seokmin hummed, watching him go, feeling distinctly like something wasn’t right, like his question hadn’t really been answered. Like Joshua had avoided responding to him properly.
Their Joshua hyung truly was rather… strange. An enigma, actually. 
Seokmin's eyes lit up as his brain finally pieced together the perfect  word to describe Joshua, but he didn't get to spend much time dwelling on it because there were sudden screams as Soonyoung tripped over Hansol’s legs and promptly fell into Seungkwan, who started shrieking impossibly loud, so now Seokmin was on his feet and attempting to help sort through the chaos that had abruptly descended.
Joshua and his strange elusiveness was forgotten for the rest of the night, Seokmin’s drunk brain unable to hold onto one coherent thought for too long, and also far too occupied with attempting to calm down (or make worse, he didn’t really know what he was doing) the yelling match between Soonyoung and Seungkwan.
But through his peripheral vision, as Seokmin watched Joshua whisper to Jeonghan and then disappear for the rest of the night, he felt as if there were gaping holes in the puzzle before him that he didn’t even know he’d been solving.
───────────── ‘✷,
“Hyung. Hyung. Hey, hyung.”
“Seokmin, if you don’t shut the fuck up right this second, I’m going to gouge your eye out with my chopsticks,” Soonyoung threatened, holding the metal pieces of cutlery up like weapons. “What do you want?”
Monthly Game Night gatherings were always scheduled to fall on the last Friday of the month to allow them to do anything they wanted and recuperate on the Saturday after, and now, having thoroughly gotten themselves sloshed the night before, both Seokmin and Soonyoung were groggily trying to have breakfast around the table back at their own apartment. At four in the afternoon.
Seokmin pouted, sulking at Soonyoung’s threat. “You don’t have to be so mean. Why are you so grumpy?”
“I woke up two hours ago and the world feels like it’s been permanently tilted sideways ever since,” Soonyoung grumbled, holding his chopsticks properly to stab at his rice again. “Forgive me for wanting to bite your head off for yapping in my ear.”
Seokmin tilted his head. “I’m not yapping in your ear." He gestured to the expanse of table separating them from each other. "I'm nowhere near your ear.”
“Well, I’m still gonna stab you either way,” the elder said, holding his chopsticks up warningly. “What is it?”
Seokmin rubbed his eyes, before smiling sweetly. “Could you get me a glass of water, hyung?”
Soonyoung stared at him in disbelief for a good few seconds. “Unbelievable.” He shook his head, but scraped his chair back anyway, getting up. “Absolutely unbelievable. You’re too lazy to get yourself water?”
That made Seokmin laugh before he winced, startling his own sore brain with the loud sound. “Thank you!”
He was still pretty out of it, his head feeling a little tender and swollen, and he remembered practically nothing that had happened last night. He hadn't been drinking so much that he'd blacked out, though, and Seokmin chalked up this random memory loss to the fact that he was utterly exhausted. Things should come back to him eventually. 
At that moment, as he sat there and waited for Soonyoung to come back with his water, his phone rang, blasting at an unholy volume that made him flinch once more. He looked down at the contact, and tilted his head curiously. 
“Seokmin-ah?”
“Oh, Jeonghan hyung!” Seokmin chirped, before remembering, yet again, that he had the most brain-throbbing headache in the world right now. “What’s up?”
“You sound awfully bright,” Jeonghan chuckled. “It’s, what, four thirty? In the afternoon?”
Seokmin pouted, even though Jeonghan couldn’t see him. “Well, I only just woke up. We left your house at five this morning, didn’t we? I think we managed to get a decent amount of sleep even so.”
“Perhaps, perhaps. Anyway, I was calling because we’re cleaning the house right now, and I think we’ve found your glasses.”
“My glasses?” he repeated, and then beamed as Soonyoung came back with his glass of water. “Oh. I didn’t even know I brought them over last night.”
“At least, I’m pretty sure they’re yours? You can come over and check, ‘cause you’re also gonna come and have dinner with us,” Jeonghan said. “In, like. Two hours.”
“Wh— Hyung?” Seokmin blinked, confusedly, and Soonyoung tilted his head in question as he lowered himself back into his seat again. “Hyung, we’re literally just eating breakfast right now. I don’t think we’re gonna be able to have dinner so soon.”
“Too bad, because if you don’t then I’m gonna hold your glasses hostage,” Jeonghan said. “See you in two hours. Bring Soonyoung with you.”
“Jeonghan hyung— hey, hyung!” 
Jeonghan promptly hung up, and Seokmin sighed. Typical. 
“What did he want?” Soonyoung asked.
“Oh, he said that he has my glasses and wants me to pick them up. And also stay for dinner,” Seokmin added, pocketing his phone. Not before turning down his ringtone volume, because damn had that been loud.
Soonyoung glanced up at Seokmin and noted the lack of the black-rimmed glasses that he’d taken to wearing more and more often these days. “Oh. You’re not wearing them.” He nodded with a shrug. “Sure. Have fun.” He stuffed some more rice in his mouth, before wincing when Seokmin suddenly scraped back his chair and then made a beckoning motion for Soonyoung to do the same. “Wait, what are you doing?”
Seokmin swayed slightly on his feet, the earth wobbling dangerously, before righting himself. “We gotta go get my glasses, duh. Come on, hyung.”
Soonyoung stared at him as he made a slow, shaky path towards the sink, before dumping his bowl in the sink with a crash, making both of them cringe, hungover brains thumping in protest.
“I’m not coming with you,” Soonyoung said, once his ears stopped ringing incessantly. Or maybe he only thought they stopped ringing. He wasn’t entirely sure. “Go get your glasses yourself.”
Seokmin promptly whined at that, stomping his foot, before keeling over precariously to the side and grabbing onto the sink for support. “No. Come with me. Jeonghan hyung said you’re coming for dinner too.”
“Tell Jeonghan hyung he can stuff his dinner. I’m still hungover.”
“Hyung.”
“No. Stop with the puppy eyes.”
“Hyung…”
“No. I said stop it. You're not a preschooler, Seokmin, go by yourself. I’m not coming.”
An hour later, both Seokmin and Soonyoung were standing outside Jeonghan and Joshua’s house, loaded up on painkillers, pressing the doorbell insistently.
“Why do I need to escort you around like you’re my child, huh?” Soonyoung muttered, as they stood there and waited for someone to open the door. “You’re not a baby.”
Seokmin just sniffed, crossing his arms. “So what? It‘s what you get for being my roomie. You get to go with me wherever I wanna go. It’s a privilege, you know.”
“Wow, I feel so privileged,” Soonyoung said, sounding anything but, and Seokmin just grinned. “Honestly, what’s taking them so long to open this door?”
The door creaked open just as Soonyoung rang the doorbell again, and Joshua stared at them amusedly as the shrill sound of the doorbell echoed throughout the house and also onto the empty street.
“Hello,” Joshua said, smiling. “Someone’s impatient.”
“Joshua hyung!” Soonyoung beamed immediately, opening his arms wide, earlier disgruntled nature forgotten. “How are you?” He threw himself into Joshua’s arms, making the man stumble back a little, chuckling.
“Joshua hyung?” Seokmin echoed, more confused. He didn't think he'd ever seen Joshua answering the door to them before. “What’s Jeonghan hyung doing?”
Joshua untangled himself from Soonyoung’s hug, opening the door wider for them to come in. “Cooking,” he said. “He demanded to take over the cooking and made me come over to open the door. Come in, come in. Oh, and Seokmin, you’re here for your glasses, aren’t you?” he asked, smiling.
Seokmin blinked up at him, in the middle of bending over to take off his shoes. Joshua tilted his head, still smiling, and for some reason it tugged at something in Seokmin's brain, leaving him curiously tongue-tied, so Soonyoung spoke for him.
“Yeah, we are,” he said. “I don’t know how someone can forget their glasses, but apparently Seokmin did.”
Seokmin whined in annoyance at Soonyoung, but Joshua just smiled, strangely soft. “It can happen to anyone,” he said, before gesturing to the living room. “I left your glasses on the coffee table. It’s the only room I’ve been able to clean today.”
Soonyoung stared at him, wide-eyed. “You’ve been cleaning the house?” He turned to Seokmin. “We should do that someday.”
That made Joshua laugh. “Maybe that would be a good idea,” he said. “How many years has it been since you guys cleaned something, hm?” Before Soonyoung could open his mouth in protest, however, he pointed in the direction of the kitchen, quickly backing away. “Anyway, I’ll go help Jeonghan before he burns what I’ve cooked. You guys can stay here until dinner’s ready, okay?”
Soonyoung sniffed, pretending to be miffed at Joshua’s teasing, before they both headed towards the living room to pick up Seokmin’s glasses.
“I didn’t even know that Joshua hyung cleaned,” he muttered. “Can’t believe that some people actually tidy their house.”
His mutterings were mildly sarcastic, all full of faux annoyance, but it made Seokmin tilt his head, wisps of thoughts from somewhere coming back into his mind.
“I didn’t know he could cook,” Seokmin added. “I don’t think we know a lot about him.”
“Yeah, like how I didn’t know hyung had a thing for wacky sculptures,” Soonyoung said, squinting down at a twisty plaster sculpture of… something, standing next to the television. “How did I not notice this last night? What even is this?”
Seokmin shook his head, retrieving his glasses from the coffee table, inspecting them before putting them on. “Respect his design choices, hyung.”
“How can I respect them when they literally involve stuff like this? You know what, I’m gonna ask him. Hey, Joshua hyung!”
────────────── ‘✷,
Jeonghan’s voice rang out, clear and animated across the dining room table. He was telling a story, because Jeonghan always had a story to tell, and Soonyoung was listening with such wide-eyed attentiveness that his forkful of spaghetti missed his mouth and smeared against his cheek.
“No way,” he said, incredulous. “In the dairy aisle? He proposed in the dairy aisle?”
“I don’t know why he thought it was a good idea,” Jeonghan said, shaking his head. “And there were so many people there! I think the girl was close to tears.”
Soonyoung finally managed to get his food to go into his mouth rather than pressing against it. “What happened then? Did she say yes?”
Currently, the only conversation happening was between Jeonghan and Soonyoung. Joshua was watching them, amused, quietly eating his own meal, and Seokmin was… well. 
Seokmin was watching Joshua.
He didn’t really mean for it to happen. Jeonghan’s story was incredibly gripping, as most of his tales were, and normally Seokmin would have been a captured audience, but normally Joshua wouldn’t be with them, and normally Seokmin’s brain wouldn’t have finally remembered what he’d been realised the night before, and normally, normally…
Normally, Seokmin wouldn’t be preoccupied with wondering about his friendship with Joshua. 
“—her boytoy in that crowd of people, and he came up to her yelling about how could she do this to him,” Jeonghan was saying, grinning. “There was literally a crowd of people in the aisle now.”
Joshua smiled a little, an amused, relaxed motion, eyes fixed on Jeonghan, and Seokmin felt his own lips unconsciously tug into a smile too. 
“You're kidding,” Soonyoung gasped, fork clattering as he dropped it in surprise. “She was cheating on him?”
Joshua’s eyes moved from Jeonghan to make eye contact with Seokmin, and he startled a little, feeling almost like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Before he had time to mouth apologies, or even look away, Joshua just smiled again, softly this time, all fluffy and sweet. Seokmin smiled back, strangely shy, and Joshua just smiled wider before looking back at Jeonghan again.
Joshua was… weird. Perhaps that was a little odd to say, and maybe a little mean, but Seokmin didn’t mean it like that. It was just weird how he’d known Joshua for years, and yet being caught staring at him felt like being caught staring at a stranger. Weird how Joshua smiled a little differently to him compared to how he'd been looking at Jeonghan. Weird how he'd known him for so long and yet it felt like Seokmin knew almost nothing about him.
“—and then she slapped him!” Jeonghan was saying. “Right there, in front of this huge crowd of people, and her fling. Because guess what?”
“What?” Soonyoung’s eyes were wide.
“He was having an affair too.”
“No!”
Joshua met Seokmin’s eyes yet again, head tilted, eyes still just as soft as before. He raised an eyebrow. What are you thinking about?
Seokmin’s eyes widened a little, not expecting to make eye contact with Joshua again. He shrugged, gesturing to his empty plate and then his head, wincing a little at the headache which was slowly coming back and making it difficult for him to talk too loudly. Nothing much.
And Seokmin… well, Seokmin was amicable with everyone, good at making friends, so he would like to consider Joshua his friend too. Okay, maybe not ‘friends’. He didn’t even have Joshua’s number, and they rarely saw each other outside of group gatherings or when Seokmin was dropping by to say hi to Jeonghan.
But Seokmin was friendly with him! Maybe they weren’t friends, but they were friendly acquaintances. Maybe. 
Joshua raised both eyebrows this time, the concern clear in his eyes. You okay?
That made Seokmin blink, a little startled, not expecting such a question from Joshua’s eyes. And also not expecting himself to be able to understand it too. 
Was it normal to so seamlessly have non-verbal conversations with someone who was merely a friendly acquaintance?
“So why was he even proposing to her in the first place? If he was cheating on her?” Soonyoung asked, and he wasn’t even attempting to finish his spaghetti anymore, too focused on Jeonghan. 
“Okay, Jeonghan, I think you’ve entranced Soonyoung enough,” Joshua laughed, and Seokmin blinked himself out of his thoughts. “Come on. Soons, do you really believe this?”
Soonyoung whipped his head around from Jeonghan to gape at him. “What?”
Jeonghan stared wide-eyed at Joshua, all innocent, and Seokmin finally realised what he’d been doing. “Hey! What are you talking about? This is all true, you know.”
Joshua raised his eyebrows, disbelieving, unimpressed. “Yoon Jeonghan. We’ve talked about this. You need to stop making up these tales and telling them to naive people who’ll believe them.”
“No way!” Soonyoung’s fork clattered back onto his plate again, splattering tomato sauce all over the table as Joshua started to laugh. “Hyung! You were making that up?”
Jeonghan cracked a grin, eyes glittering. “Surprise?”
Soonyoung’s expression was so comically shocked and outraged that it had Seokmin laughing as well even though he, too, had believed Jeonghan’s story. Soonyoung’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, hands clasped over his chest, looking physically hurt by what he’d just been told, and Joshua grinned, brightly, pleased with what he’d caused.
“I can’t believe it,” Soonyoung said, shaking his head. “I was fully invested in the story too.”
Joshua laughed while Jeonghan just smiled widely, proud. “You believed him? You really believed what he was saying?”
“Yeah!”
“This is why you’re a little bit of a fool, Soonyoung,” Joshua said fondly. “Double cheating? A proposal in the dairy aisle? You believed all of that?”
Seokmin raised his hand. “I believed that too, so does that make me a fool as well?”
Joshua looked at Seokmin, and the vibrant, teasing look in his eyes faltered a little, but before he even had time to notice it, that moment of unsteadiness had gone and Joshua just hummed, tilting his head. “Probably.”
“Wh—”
“Don’t worry, Seokmin, you’re still cute,” Jeonghan said, reaching over the table to ruffle Seokmin’s hair. “The cutest, in fact. Cuter than Soonyoung.”
“Hey!” Soonyoung was whining, dramatically hurt. “So first I get lied to, and then I get my cuteness belittled? What is this? Bully Soonyoung Day?”
Joshua looked back at Soonyoung again, and his eyes were as vibrant as ever with a spark of mischief that rivalled Jeonghan’s, looking like that was the only expression that had ever been painted on his face. “Actually, ‘Bully Soonyoung Day’ is the same day as Jihoon’s birthday, so we’re not quite there yet,” he said, and laughed as Soonyoung huffed, slumping down into his chair dejectedly.
Seokmin had his hand over his mouth to hide how wide he was smiling, giggling uncontrollably as the conversation went back and forth between Joshua and Jeonghan and Soonyoung seamlessly as they teased and bickered and made Seokmin snort-laugh into his hand.
Joshua’s eyes were bright, wide and glittering as he effortlessly manoeuvred himself through their conversation, and his voice was chipper, animated, vivid, a far cry from the way he’d been talking to Seokmin last night. A far cry from the way he’d been (non-verbally) talking to Seokmin five minutes ago, in fact.
“You, Yoon Jeonghan-ssi, are a menace to society,” Soonyoung declared, jabbing a finger at the laughing Jeonghan. 
Seokmin snorted. “What, like you didn’t know it before?”
“Well, actually,” Jeonghan said, the lights in his eyes practically dancing in delight, “Joshua-ssi is far more of a menace than I am. He’s the one who exposed me and started this thing, isn’t it?”
The whole table exploded into a mess of noise. 
Joshua was vehemently defending himself, hands gesturing and all doe-eyed and doing his best to look innocent, but he was laughing, having the time of his life. Seokmin wouldn’t have recognised him from the man quietly observing them all during Game Night last night if the glittering of his eyes didn’t look exactly the same.
And yeah, maybe it was because of the difference in the mood, but Seokmin felt like that wasn't it. He felt like Joshua's change in… well, his entire personality was more intentional like that, listening to the nuances in Joshua's tone, so flawlessly colourful that it felt like something he’d painted on, something he’d hand-crafted just for moments like this, where they yelled at each other over the dinner table with grins on their faces. 
As Seokmin threw his head back in laughter, almost tipping himself off the chair while Joshua grinned with a mischievous look almost identical to Jeonghan’s, Seokmin found himself wondering just how many other paintings Joshua had, waiting to put on his face.
──────────── ‘✷,
It took several, several hours, but eventually Jeonghan and Joshua relinquished Seokmin and Soonyoung from their hold and allowed them to go home.
“Seokmin, you should lose your glasses more often,” Jeonghan said as he led them to the door. “Today was fun.”
“Fun?” Soonyoung squawked, and Seokmin looked at their hyung exasperatedly. They’d only just managed to calm Soonyoung down, but Jeonghan had now set him off again. “How is making fun of me any fun?”
“It’s called ‘making fun’ for a reason,” Joshua pointed out, but he ruffled Soonyoung’s hair fondly as he said it.
Jeonghan nodded and grinned, cheshire-cat wide. “Exactly. Now, get some sleep you two, it’s far too late to be up and about. Goodnight!”
The door was promptly slammed in their faces, and Seokmin shook his head. 
“Goodness. That hyung has no manners.” He turned to his roommate, patting Soonyoung on the shoulder. “Come on, roomie hyung. My head hurts. I wanna go home.”
Soonyoung grumbled under his breath, and Seokmin just grinned as they began to walk to the bus stop and get home.
“We,” Soonyoung declared the moment he threw the apartment door open, “are never having a meal with Jeonghan hyung and Joshua hyung ever again.”
“Ever?” Seokmin repeated, walking over to the cupboard where they kept the meds. “I don’t think they’ll let us do that.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll just say we’re not going. It should be simple, right?” Soonyoung flopped onto the couch. “Seokmin-ah, get me some painkillers too, will you? I think my brain is trying to explode while still inside my skull.”
Seokmin rolled his eyes as Soonyoung rambled on, more than used to the elder’s dramatics and petulant nature. Soonyoung, ever unchangeable, always whined whenever they met up with Jeonghan. It was one of the truths of the world. If there was ever anything Seokmin could bet on happening, it would be that.
“You know Jeonghan was only teasing you. Now here. Pain meds. Shut up.” Seokmin set down the pills and a glass of water on the coffee table, and unceremoniously shoved off Soonyoung’s feet so he could sit down on the couch too.
“Ow!” Soonyoung glared, rubbing his heels in annoyance. “Still can’t believe people actually think you’re all sunshine-innocent and sweet.”
Seokmin just smiled, a bright flashing of teeth that made Soonyoung eye him annoyedly once more.
Silence fell over them, a comfortable, contemplative silence. Well, contemplative for Seokmin, anyway. For some weird, weird reason, his mind drifted back to Joshua, and he found himself furrowing his brow in confusion.
Joshua’s nature wasn’t something that Seokmin could bet on, though. He was ever-changing, really, if Seokmin thought about it, going through their past interactions in his mind. There weren’t many, he realised. Had he really talked to Joshua so few times?
But the way Joshua changed, the way he was so bright and chipper with Soonyoung and Jeonghan, as opposed to his elusive softness with Seokmin didn’t feel fake. Seokmin knew how to spot fake, knew how to determine if someone was being genuine based on how they spoke or the way they held themselves, knew these things in a blink of an eye. And Joshua… didn’t feel like he wasn’t being genuine.
Rather, it felt like Joshua had several personalities, all of them him, all of them different, and it made Seokmin even more confused. Because they all felt distinctly Joshua-ish, but there were little differences in the way he grinned or the way he talked that made them, well, different. 
Seokmin stared, unimpressed, as Soonyoung propped his feet up in his lap. And then he had a sudden thought and snorted aloud. 
Joshua hyung, the colour-changing octopus.
Soonyoung looked at him oddly, before wriggling his feet in Seokmin’s lap, drawing attention to them and making Seokmin shove him off the couch yet again. He didn’t pay attention to his roommate’s indignant squawks, staring off into space instead, shaking his head.
Joshua truly was an enigma, a really weird person.
And Seokmin really wanted to see more of him.
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virtualcarrot · 11 months
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[KKIR] The smell of another
(Posted on AO3)
-
Some things, Iruka doesn't notice straight away. Truly, between the bafflement and the awe that is dating Konoha's Rokudaime, man of a great many legends and mysteries, he's a bit too starry-eyed to process additional information. He's also, frankly, waiting for the other shoe to drop, likely in the form of a laconic dumping.
The shoe doesn't drop. The relationship holds. It's shaken, a bit, when Kakashi reveals his face with a moment of gravitas that rings a thousand alarm bells in Iruka's mind over an imminent break up. Which he admits out loud, a bit hysterical with relief.
On that day, he sees the sheepish tilt of Kakashi's lips--his bare lips!--give way to a cold, toothless sneer. Then the whole thing is masked up again.
''If you believe it so fragile, I don’t think we’re on the same page regarding this relationship,'' Kakashi says, going on the offensive as he so often does when upset by an unfair assessment of his character.
Luckily for Iruka, because it sets him right back on track.
''Oh grow up, Kakashi, you don't have a monopoly on insecurity. Now show me again, so I can be smug about it when people speculate.''
Things go smoother after that and Iruka’s now blessed with the bare sight of those sharp, high cheekbones and thin lips on a regular basis.
Anyway, Iruka had way too much going on in their early relationship to notice the subtler details.
''What are you thinking about?" Kakashi asks, dipping his head on his way to the kitchen to briefly trail his nose over Iruka's nape.
It tickles a shudder out of Iruka. The flash of Kakashi's smug grin as he turns away says that hasn't gone unnoticed.
''How much of a pissbaby you can be,'' Iruka replies, still half a mind on his spreadsheet of the Academy's budget for the next semester.
The following bark of laughter is muffled by the fridge, but only barely. ''What now?"
"Oh, Iruka ,'' Iruka starts with great sarcasm, ''if you haven't picked names for the four hundred fifty nine ninken we’re gonna adopt or started to look into houses for us to move in, you must not be serious about me.''
''Oh, grow-up,'' Kakashi says good-naturedly, plopping beside him at the kotatsu. One steaming mug he sets on the table, the other he keeps in his cupped hands lowered on his lap. The smell of masala chai is quick to carry over.
''Thanks,'' Iruka says, sipping from the one that was left for him.
''Hm-hm.''
The solid heat of Kakashi's body sinks bit by bit into him, with something sleepy and languid to his posture. His nose finds its way to the hollow between Iruka's neck and shoulder.
With a huff, Iruka switches his drink to his other hand so he can ease his left arm in an inviting arch that Kakashi is quick to lean into. The nose, though, stays put.
''I still can't believe you're a cuddler,'' Iruka snickers gently, broad hand drawing swipes over Kakashi's flank.
''You'd best believe it,'' Kakashi mumbles with suspiciously accurate inflections. He rubs his face against Iruka, who briefly presses back with his lower jaw before resuming his accounting.
Tries not to get distracted by the intermittent nuzzling.
''Are you smelling me?" he ultimately asks, feeling amused in that fond way that makes his chest ache.
''Yes.''
''All right, then.''
''Do you mind?"
''Just don't tickle me, I've got to concentrate. I need to be convincing so the Hokage approves my new budget.''
Burrowing even deeper, Kakashi nudges past the neck of Iruka's shirt to where the collarbone emerges from the generous muscle padding of his shoulder, right at the base of his throat.
''I'm sure you'll do fine," he murmurs with some humor.
And then he settles, dozing off to the warmth of Iruka’s scent.
It’s one of the quirks Iruka notices, now, and that he cherishes.
He tucks Kakashi's drink away before it spills from hands gone lax--though not without stealing some, just for the sake of wincing at the unsweetened taste of it--and hugs him closer, poring over dreadfully boring numbers to the soft snuffling of his companion.
And if he sometimes pauses just long enough to breathe from the spiky hair within reach, well, Kakashi doesn't have a leg to stand on on such matters.
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squaregoals · 1 year
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An Anomaly Abolished my Autonomy
A Future Donnie (Rottmnt) drabble 🟪🐢
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It was early in the morning when the reports displayed around Donnie started blurring, and it was only when his head started falling forward that he realized such. 
Snapping his head up while he blinked and rubbed his eyes, he took in the fact that he'd been staring at the same scout's report for the past twenty minutes.
Sighing, Donnie stretched in his chair before falling back in a slump. Someone could lecture him about poor posture later, right now all he wanted was to fully turn his brain off and relax.
And just for a moment, Donnie entertained such a thought.
Until it was interrupted by a whirring of one of his scanners springing to life in the corner.
No one else was in the lab with him.
With yet another sigh, he pushed off his desk. He wheeled his chair over to said machine to take a look, blearily blinking at it as it finished it's job. 
Sightings of a raiding party were being reported around one of his occupied safehouses, not too far from the harbor. 
The harbor which was currently being occupied by the Krang.
"That situation should resolve itself," Donnie remarked to himself with a low chuckle as he wheeled back over to try and finish picking through the reports he had been falling asleep to.
After some effort, he did indeed finish what he had and catalogued the necessary data.
Yawning, he slowly rose to his feet. 
Almost instantly he had a hand back on the desk for support, as every bone in his body protested and flared up from such a movement.
Punishing him for both sitting at a bad angle, and for not having slept well or long for days on end.
Hissing and pushing through the pain, he shuffled over to a coffee pot he had on a hot plate. Getting his mug, he went to pour… only to be met with nothing coming out. This had him remembering, vaguely, that he had finished the last of the liquid hours ago.
Donnie just stared blankly at the pot and mug for a good solid minute, before he groaned and weighed his options. He could either:
A) Go make another pot, but risk running into one of his family. Who would undoubtedly make him go to sleep, whether by coercion or force.
B) Drug himself, which would be effective but have major drawbacks later on. Or potentially immediately.
Or
C) Go without anything, and continue to work knowing he'd eventually pass out in his chair or on the floor.
The choice to just go to his room and rest never crossed his hazy mind.
It actually took him real time to consider, the thoughts mushing their way through the slush of his brain before he could come to a decision. Donnie wasn't certain he could administer the drugs right, and there was no way he would let himself pass out.
He was still a ninja, so he reasoned he could avoid anyone he needed to so long as he focused. And besides, he controlled the cameras in the base. So it's not like anyone would spy him through those.
"Well then, onwards. To victory." he cheered to himself with barely-there enthusiasm, raising the coffee pot almost in a toast before carefully making his way out of the lab.
The halls were blissfully quiet, which made sense for how early in the morning it was. It hadn't even hit daybreak yet, and dawn was hours off yet. It was relatively peaceful, only broken by the usual humming of the low lighting and occasional conversation between guards that manned the exits.
He took care to avoid their lines of sights, and if they noticed him as he passed they didn't say anything to acknowledge him. Unsurprising if so, because they all have seemed to learn not to question his or his brother's antics.
Eventually he made it to the makeshift break room that held the coffee machine he had monopoly over. It used to be in his lab, but after the Incident™ he had to keep it in a place where he actually had to make an effort to make a new pot.
Grumbling to himself for not the first time about misunderstandings and how it was unfair he was being essentially grounded, he started the simple process of making another pot.
He stepped back after he was done setting up and leaned against a nearby counter with his arms crossed. He watched as the slow drip of the coffee started to fall into the pot. The aromas soothed him, as did the sound.
Drip
Drip
Drip
Donnie zoned out, marveling that he could do so with no emergency alerts appearing on his tech to interrupt.
~
That was short-lived, as about halfway through with filling the pot such an alert did pop up on his visor. 
He closed his eyes and took a sharp inhale followed by a long exhale to center himself. Exhausted eyes opened back up, as he looked over the alert. 
One of his scouts had spotted a Krang supply truck that had extremely light security and was asking if she could sabotage it. 
Donnie narrowed his eyes in thought as he tried to remember this particular scout's skill sets. She was incredibly stealthy and light on her feet, so if the worst came down to it he was confident she could simply melt into her surroundings. With where she was, it would be child's play.
After not too long, he nodded to the empty room and sent his orders to proceed back. Donnie mused to himself for a little longer as he considered sending her and another on an infiltration mission if this went well.
He was so lost in thought that he almost missed the coffee machine beeping.
Crap!
He had, in his exhaustion, failed to remember to turn off the buzzer that announced it's completion. Donnie jumped to silence it, then swiftly grabbed the pot and started to dash back to his lab. He hoped that no one had heard it go off. Especially not April, who had just got back yesterday and had already been on his case twice about actually taking care of himself.
"Taking care of myself? I am taking care of myself just fine," he murmured to himself as he reached and then ducked into his lab. 
The doors swished shut behind him, and he set the now-full pot back on the hot plate. 
He now successfully poured himself a mug full of coffee, and sighed this time in relief as he took a slow drink. Holding the mug in both hands, he happened to catch sight of himself in the reflection of the dark liquid's surface.
Donnie just stared at himself, before promptly ignoring how bad he looked and went back to what he needed to do. Mechanical arms sprung up around him, grabbing the necessary tools as he just calmly continued to drink.
He was finished with it by the time he reached his lab bench, setting the mug off to the side. As his fleshy hands joined the mechanical ones, he allowed himself a brief moment to reflect on what his life had turned into. Not of his own volition, but because the whole world went tits up and for some reason he and his clan's stupid need to be helpful heroes rocketed them into leading an entire underground rebellion against their alien overlords.
Donnie closed his eyes, fists resting against the lab table as he felt the weight of everything crushing up against him.
It was overwhelming, and he forced himself to breathe.
When he got it under control his eyes snapped back open, the feeling having passed. 
Or, at least, that's what he told himself.
After all, he surmised, there was no time for a pity party with all the tasks he needed to get done. His life was hardly his own, hadn't been for years. This was fact, and one no one had to speak it out loud.
They were all in the same boat.
There was no room for failure.
So Donnie got back to work.
--------
A/N: this is a small moment in the night/morning with my Future Donnie from a large work I have going on. Hopefully I'll get the time to wrangle it all into actually posting it. But, for now, you'll get some glimpses here and there in my warm-up drabbles here on Tumblr.
💜
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buck-tick-stash · 1 year
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The Izora Concert Experience
Better than (Tour) The Best.
With COVID restrictions finally lifting to a proper degree in Japan, the Izora tour saw the audience come alive in a way that had not been possible in three years.
The band itself was also more energetic on stage. As we know from the band's pre-tour interviews posted to their YouTube channel, Tour The Best 35th Anniv. overlapped studio recordings of the following year's Izora album, competing for their energy and creative focus.
By contrast, the members seemed much more lively for Izora. Toll walked cheerfully and waved where before he had shuffled. Imai's cane was nowhere to be seen, and in addition to his usual kicks and dances, he playfully hop-scotched across the stage during Hizumi. Yuta was mugging at the crowd with extra enthusiasm, and there were moments of Sakurai and Hide twirling in sync.
And, while I'm 99.8% certain I did not imagine it, I know how hard this will be to believe: Imai cracked a smile.
In addition to playing the entire album, the smattering of old songs included Jonathan Jet-Coaster, with the chant of "I wanna be your fuckin' baby, fuckin' baby" getting quite the response from the audience, and Igniter, which absolutely thrilled my hard-rock heart, not to mention the sheer pleasure of hearing Imai at the mic again.
Having gone to a show on this tour has more than convinced me to get a copy any Izora-related tour Blu-rays in the future for two points (above and beyond simply being a Buck-Tick simp):
1) The visuals fit the songs beautifully and cohesively. I'm dying to see them again without the fear of missing some action from the members.
2) Imai's theremin solo. No joke, the man has seriously leveled up his skill. While Imai has always used the theremin as he has most synth sounds, as a way to enhance the existing melodies and add his particular brand of flair, his solo in Izora was masterful, as the theremin sang with more tonal fidelity and coloratura than most of the solos the band puts out.
My one and only criticism falls on Noraneko Burū ("Alley Cat Blue"), whose bridge features a solo on an off-tune tinny upright piano. On the album, this works. The run-down jazzy sound suits the lazy lounge-esque beat of the song. However, this bit of piano keeps its coveted spot in the song as a backing track on stage. I wasn't sure which musician to focus on, as none were actively creating the solo, and as it was a straight copy of what was on the album, felt flat when played next to live instruments. In previous tours, Rondo's violin suffers similarly, but the looser scat of a piano definitely stood out more to me.
Much that I have to say about the venue, goods, and the before and after are the same as my previous post. I did learn that getting the first copy of an autobiography does not guarantee you'll be rewarded with a signed copy. (Yuta, why no love??!! (。•́︿•̀。) )
One unfortunate thing I discovered this time was how certain members of the audience behaved after the show was complete. This time, I had hung around and had a better view of the audience after the show, seeing several of them scour between seats for the chance at missed picks, diving viciously for them and nearly getting into scuffles. (I'm not terribly surprised. I've seen the obaachans during Parinirvana Day; the U.S. has no monopoly on "Black Friday" behavior. I'm still disappointed to see it again, though.)
Don't let my ability to expand on complaints fool you. Izora was an absolute blast. I wish I had the funds and the free days to follow Buck-Tick all over the country. Gods willing, they will make more albums and do more tours, and I hope to save up enough to attend several in the same tour next time 'round.
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don-lichterman · 2 years
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10 Beautiful Places in the World That Actually Kinda Suck
10 Beautiful Places in the World That Actually Kinda Suck
Check my other channel Biographics! https://www.youtube.com/channel/UClnDI2sdehVm1zm_LmUHsjQ →Subscribe for new videos every day! https://www.youtube.com/user/toptenznet?sub_confirmation=1 Find more lists at: http://www.toptenz.net Entertaining and educational top 10 lists from TopTenzNet! Subscribe to our Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TopTenz/ Business inquiries to [email protected] Other…
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battinscn · 3 years
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PET NAMES — theodore nott x f! reader
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CONTENT WARNING: so much fluff
SUMMARY: just how many odd pet names does it take for theodore to realise you had something up your sleeve.
WC/ AVG. READING TIME: 656 words/ 4 minutes
return to the theodore masterlist here
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YOU AND TERENCE sat around the coffee table, a monopoly board in front of you.
currently, terence was winning monetary wise, but you had more properties and houses than he did.
"how do couples decide on pet names?" he asked curiously.
"sure, that sounds fun." you agreed.
you had terence hand you your phone and rang theodore.
"hi baby," theodore's voice spoke through the speaker.
"hi honey, what time will you get back?"
"in a bit, i just have to visit the bank then i'll be back."
"okay, love you pup." you hummed.
theodore returned the affection and hung up.
"that was an easy one, it wasn't odd enough." terence complained.
a few more rounds later and you and terence decided to call it a tie. you and him were no sprawled on the sofa, cuppas in your hands.
the front door rattled open and theodore walked in.
"hey higgs," he nodded to terence and walked over to stand behind the sofa, placing a kiss on the top of your head to greet you.
"hi teddy." your head tilted up towards the ceiling so you could look at theodore, puckering your lips to ask for a kiss.
theodore was slightly confused as to why you had called him that but assumed it was because his name was theodore and so teddy sounded like a fitting nickname.
terence and theodore went out to play football with a few of their mates while you stayed home to cook dinner.
"dinner's ready bubbles!" you shouted from the kitchen and theodore walked out, a towel around his neck to dry his hair.
he threw the damp towel into the laundry basket and sat next to you on the barstools.
"how was your game peaches?" you rest your chin on your palms.
theodore eyed you suspiciously but told you about his day nevertheless, "it was good, we absolutely obliterated zabini and them lot."
you washed the dinnerware and dried it, trying to place the mugs back in the top cabinet.
"baby cakes! could you help me for a bit?" you called out.
within milliseconds, theodore was right by your side, helping you put the cups in their rightful place.
"thank you buttercup," you grinned and tiptoed to peck him on the cheek.
you dried your hand on the dish towel and pulled your boyfriend by his hand to your bedroom.
you laid on top of his chest, drumming your fingers on his pec.
"baby?" theodore asked lowly.
"yes poppyseed?" as hard as you tried to keep the laugh in, you could not help but snicker at this pet name. it sounded ridiculous leaving your lips.
"i was sensing something was up, you've been calling me by odd pet names the whole day haven't you?"
you picked your head up so your chin was on his chest, cheesing, "yup. wanted to see how long it took for you to notice."
"the first few times i thought nothing of it, but poppyseed really gave it all away. i'm not a bagel." he joked.
"yea, i realised how stupid it sounded the moment it left my lips." you agreed.
"well, goodnight my ice caramel latte with oat milk and double shots of espresso." you leaned your head back down and wrapped your arm around his torso.
that earned a hearty chuckled from the man as his chest vibrated against your head.
"g'night baby." he kissed the top of your head as sleep enveloped the both of you.
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tags: @lilytoyourjames @pattnscn @haroldpotterson @one-direction-harry-potter1 @harryjamespotterswife @fairydxll @xangel76 @daddysfucktoyslut @grandnerdsheep-blog @eleventhboi
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iridescentparkers · 3 years
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thorns n' roses - peter parker
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paring: peter parker x stark!reader
summary: roses are red, violets are blue, and receiving random bouquets of flowers seems to mean love is in the air for you. getting such gifts seems to throw your best friend peter (who has harboring feelings for you) over the edge. but, who’s behind giving you these gifts?
word count: 2.8k
warnings: swearing and slight angst, fluff filled ending however!
requested?: no, but feel free to request if they are open!
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“Lady Y/N!” Thor announced, his voice muffled by the gorgeous bouquet of newly bloomed white roses he was holding. The arrangement appears small in his rather large hands. “It appears you have a special delivery!”
Smiling, he moved to place the beautiful floral arrangement in the center of the glass coffee table. Peter, Wanda, Vision, Nat, and Steve, seated comfortably nearby for a rather heated game of Monopoly, peeled their eyes glued to other things, to the gift now centered in front of them.
“These are my favorite!” You complimented, your eyes lighting up as you shifted from your slouched seated position against the back of the couch, your legs entangled in Peter’s lap, to a now huddled one closer to the edge of the sofa. “Are you sure these are for me?”
“It’s what the card says,” Thor stated as he pointed towards the flower's small white card attached to the side of the sleek black vase.
Feeling around the bouquet, your hand landed on the white nametag perched on a blooming rose. You pick it up, opening the card only to see there was no message, only bold lettering printed on the front labeled “For, Miss Stark.”
“There’s no name.” You blankly stated, squinting your eyes as you glanced at the wordless notecard from front to back.
“Looks like Y/N has a secret admirer.” Wanda smiled as she cuddled in close to Vision.
Peter scrunched his eyebrows, sitting up taller in his position next to you on the couch, “Really?”
Peter would never admit it out loud, but deep down, he was fuming. Falling hard for the other newest recruit wasn’t a part of Peter’s plan to become an Avenger, but he couldn’t help it.
You both being young, it was no surprise to most that you and Peter were instant friends. It was also no surprise when your fellow teammates became aware of how (as the kids like to call it these days) whipped Peter was. His senses would heighten whenever you were near as internal visceral sensors would go haywire inside his lovesick teenage brain. Each word you expressed was like sweet honey to his ears, as well as the ultimate kryptonite for when he attempted to speak. Your presence faulted in him being a stuttering mess.
“It’s sickening,” Bucky groaned. He pretended to gag before he took a swig of his steaming mug he enjoyed on early mornings like these, the cup filled to the brim with bitter black coffee.
“What Is?” Peter inquired, his eyes widening as swiveled his head over to the brooding man.
“You like Stark Jr." He chuckled after placing the mug down on the white marble countertop.
“What?” Peter furrowed, taking another bite of his breakfast plate.
“Before Y/N left, she spoke coherent sentences to you. Peter, you couldn’t even manage to spit out more than one word at a time.” He laughed, running his bionic arm through his long brown hair. “You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t.”
“I do not like her like that,” Peter huffed, looking down at his lap as he fiddled with his fingers. “Besides, do you think she’s even into someone like me?” he gulped, looking down as he muttered his words.
Bucky grinned as he shook his head lightly, “Liar.”
Now, in the communal living room, Peter looked at the blank card from front to back. The blank card left a stab wound with little to no physical damage but a larger than life amount of emotional hurt. He was hoping it was a simple mistake, or the flowers weren't a romantic gesture, for the open wound would leave much damage in his heart and badly.
“Do you know who would send you these?” Peter asked, handing the card back to you.
“No clue.” You responded, placing the white card so it was perched once again next to the stunning white bouquet. “Maybe I should see who it is.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Peter muttered as he looked in the opposite direction, sitting further into the couch. “I’ll be back.”
Peter didn’t come back, leaving you worried as you bet on imaginary properties and houses for the rest of the night before heading back to your designated room in the Avengers compound.
The morning greeted you through the pale curtains displayed in front of your crystal clear glass windows, causing you to stir from your sleeping position. Knowing tardiness was not something Steve would allow, you quickly prepared for the training sessions that were soon to come. The endless amounts of exertion would push you into what felt like an eternal state of exhaustion.
Downstairs your many teammates were gathered around the team dining table, seeming enervated as they all consumed their various breakfast foods. Knowing what your body could take, you grabbed only water to sip lightly on before training, then moving into the space next to Peter.
“Hey Pete,” you greeted, smiling as you got settled next to him. “How'd you sleep?”
“Good,” he murmured, glancing down as he steadily stirred his bowl of cereal. You squint your eyes at him, wondering what was up.
“You ok?” You ask, analyzing his expression as you took a light sip of water.
“Mmm-hmm,” he muttered, pressing his lips together before he moved his cereal-filled spoon to his lips.
Others seated around you both gave worried looks similar to the one resting on your face. Peter wasn't like this with you. Others saw how enamored Peter was by your presence. Each person at the table noticed the energy imbalance this morning. This new attitude was not at all like the Peter you knew.
“Special delivery for a Miss Stark?” Bucky announced as he placed yet another bouquet in the center of the dining table. This time the floral arrangement is a set of roses radiating a deep red from their petals. Everyone seated nearby jutted their heads to look at the new flowers.
“Another one?” You smiled, pressing a gentle hand on one of the roses.
You grabbed the white notecard resting on the stem of one of the newly-bloomed roses. “It just says ‘For, Miss Stark,’ again.”
“Who could want to send you roses, Y/N?” Natasha announced, glancing over at you from across the table.
“I don’t know?” You beamed, glancing down at the blank note placed in the palm of your hands.
Peter rolled his eyes as he tossed his spoon into his now-empty bowl before rushing out of the room. Many sets of eyes watched as he moved into the other room.
“What’s his problem?” Natasha asked, moving her now widened eyes to your expression.
Mouth to the floor, you turned back to the sets of stares looking at you. “I have no idea.”
Natasha huffed as she gathered her now empty plate. “You know what? I’m going to head to training. I’ll see you and the other mopey, hormonal teenager up there.”
“Parker, Stark,” Steve announced as you stood sweaty and out of breath among your other teammates. “You both haven’t sparred against one another in a while. Why don’t you both give it ago in the ring?”
“Not that I have a choice,” Peter muttered under his breath, his head glancing at the dark wreck room flooring as he walked to the center of the mat. You then follow and stand opposite his slightly hunched body.
“What was that?” Steve asked, his brows quirking at his quieted remark.
“Nothing.”
“When you finish, you both are free to go,” Steve called out to you both as he moved into your now empty spot out of the ring. “Don't go too hard in this match and no usage of powers of any kind. I want you to take it easy, keeping in mind what you would do in the real thing. You both know what I expect of you.”
Cautiously, you both were fixated on one another as you two slowly moved in a small circle. Each step was taken with ease, both of you attempting to figure out who was moving first. Peter’s nostrils flared upwards at you as he looked rather angry. You stood your ground at your friend, mirroring a similar facial expression as you continue around the ring.
The odd circling dynamic with you both called for a very awkward silence and well-drawn out shuffling along the mat centered on the floor. “Would you hurry it up and leave whatever the heck you two have going on out of the ring!” Steve yelled, throwing his hands up as he scoffed at you both.
Speedily, you attempted to throw a sharp punch to the dominant side of Peter’s body, then stopping it and putting all of his strength onto your wrist, straining it mid-air.
In response, you utilized your strength to break free of his grip before a series of punches were thrown back and forth between you both, each one either dodged or inflicted minimal damage to the other person.
“What has gotten into you?” You ask, kneeing him in his stomach, Peter responding with nothing but a light grunt under his breath. The lack of response was from either the sharp hit he just took above his groin or the unusual silence you had received over the past 12 hours. Either way, there was something, and you were determined to get it out of him.
Squatting a bit lower, you tripped Peter up, making him fall flat on his back. “Spit it out, Peter.”
Peter swung one of his legs against your ankles, then flipping you on the ground with him. “The Flowers.”
“All of this over a bouquet of harmless roses, Parker?” You groaned, sitting up to throw a punch near his cheek, then grabbing your fast hand.
Peter flipped back on his feet as you moved backward before standing and settling in a combative position. “It’s not just some fucking harmless roses, Y/N.”
“Language!” Steve shouted, observing the conversational and combative dynamic happening between you both. “Stay focused, you two!”
“I don’t get what the big deal is, Peter. It’s probably just a friend sending flowers.” You stated, kicking him in his side before he groaned quietly at your sudden movement.
“I’ve never had a friend that sends me roses, Y/N. That is someone wanting something more.”
“Focus Queens,” Steve yelled. “Leave your problems off the sparring mat.”
“You know what I think?” you stated, you two continuing to throw punches through the midst of your arguing. You afterward turn around before elbowing Peter in his side. “You're jealous,” you yelled.
“What, you’ve got a crush on me or something, Queens.” You spoke, mocking the last part of your statement.”
Peter looked down as an immense heat ran to his cheeks. “You do! You like me, Parker!”
“I don’t!”
“Oh, but you do.” You laughed. Then flipping him on his back, straddling his waist as you pinned both his arms to the mat. Your lips were merely touching, your warm breath hitting his pink lips as sweat poured down his hot face.“Admit it.”
“Come on,” You grinned, pressing down harder on his wrists. “Say it.” His breaths hitched, each one now seconds apart from one other.
“I-” Peter breathed, squeezing his facial muscles as he attempted to catch his breath. “I like you.”
You swallowed hard while holding an intense gaze, looking deeply into his nervous brown eyes, his pupils dilating as he attempted to analyze your profound expression.
You trailed your eyes down to his curled lips and licked your dry ones before your eyes traveled back up to his again. A neutral expression is now present on your face. “I'm done here.”
Loosening your grip from his now red wrists, you swung your legs off of him before getting up and leaving the training center. Peter got up and adjusted himself before following you. Eyes in the room spotlighted themselves on both you and Peter as you got off of the training mat.
“The hell was that?” Sam asked, his eyes widening at the now empty mat.
“How would we know,” Natasha stated, eyeing Sam as she spoke.
“Y/N! Wait.” Peter called out as you wiped the sweat dripping from the sides of your sweltering face.
You turned swiftly to face his nervous body, mounds of sweat leaving him in an attempt to cool him, both from working out and from this nerve-wracking conversation.
“I’m sorry.” He spoke, pressing his hands together as he went on. “For how I reacted over the flowers.”
“I overreacted, mainly because...” He squeaked, swallowing the ball of nervousness building in his throat. Your plentiful thoughts running a million miles a minute were now the only sound you could comprehend as you and Peter stood in silence. What felt like forever in your brain as you were infatuated with his response was only minutes in real-time. “I meant what I said back there. I do...like you.”
“Good.” You smiled as a breath of relief left your also sweating body, inching closer to your best friend. ”I do, too. A lot, Peter.”
Your bodies were practically touching, sensations of warmness flooding the both of you as eyes glanced deeply into the other persons. A newfound nervousness made your eyes flutter up and down from his pink lips to his deep brown eyes. Slowly, his hand positioned itself on your cheek, his thumb grazing it gently. The touch sends an embarrassingly large grin to your face.
“Wait…” Peter interrupted, looking confused as he felt various hairs rise on his exposed skin.
You looked over Peter's confused expression before seeing the varying smirks and shocked looks from the other Avengers. Each one peeping through the exceptionally see-through glass, assuming they saw and heard everything that just went down in the hallway from the other room.
Emotions washed across your face like a riptide, various ones that you did not want to feel currently in this moment. The hand once rested on your cheek, Peter laced in your hand, pulling you farther down the large hallway. You fixated on the smug looks plastered on each one of your teammate's faces. This happening as you were being lugged into a different location, thus stumbling in the process.
After many twists and turns of running down the compound's many long hallways, you both came to a stop, and you caught yourself while gripping Peter's hand.
“You ok?” He asked, out of breath as he let go of your now slightly sweaty hand.
“Yeah.” You breathed, smiling big as Peter gazed intently, his eyes not leaving your face.
You both looked like two idiots high on your infatuation with one another, “Where were we?” Peter asked.
Trying to contain the many smiles resulting from your happiness, you bit your bottom lip as you shook your head at him. “I think you were about to kiss me.”
“Was I?” Peter sarcastically grinned, gripping the curve of your neck as he inched closer to your lips.
“I hate you.” You smiled, shaking your head before pressing your lips onto his own. The feeling that followed was soft and delicate as Peter melded deeper into your lips. The breaks between each kiss left a smile on your face. You felt giddy and ecstatic knowing harboring feelings for the boy in front of you were strongly reciprocated.
Each peck was sweet and soft, leaving newfound happiness in your body. You moved your hands to Peter’s cheeks as one of his hands moved just above your natural waist, and the other rested just above your hips, pulling you deeper into his touch.
The kiss left you breathless as you removed yourself from his face, Peter smiling big as his gaze remained focused on you. “Where did those flowers come from anyway?”
“Really?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest as Peter’s hands continued to rest above your hips. “You practically swallow my entire face, and the only thing on your mind are those flowers?”
“Sorry.” He apologized, looking away from your face as his face turned a bright pink color.
“It's fine, Peter.” Your breath, grazing a gentle hand over his heated cheeks. “I’ll trash them if you want. They don’t mean as much to me as you do.”
“No, it’s ok, I-um.. just wanted to know.”
Over Peter’s shoulder, the stature of a familiar man peered around the corner of the hallway. “Dad!”
“Hey, honey.” He exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug after you ran over to him.
“How was the mission?” You asked as you pulled out of his touch.
“It went great. Everyone made it out safe.” Your dad explained, looking down at his phone. “Hey, kid.” Your father greeted as he looked over at Peter.
“Hi, Mr. Stark.” Peter waved as he gave a thin-lipped smile to your dad.
“Hey, listen, have either one of you seen your mom? I bought her a gift, well two, when I was away, but I’m not sure if she got them.”
Your brows furrowed, pursing your lips confusedly at your father. “Wait, they wouldn’t happen to be…”
You turned to face Peter standing behind you, him mirroring your expression. “...the roses?”
“So, she got them?”
“Oh my god,” Peter gasped, inhaling sharply as his eyes went wide.
You turned back to your father, laughing as you moved to speak. “Well...not exactly…”
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sandbees · 3 years
Text
More of Yuu’s Stupidity
(AU edition)
Ghost! Deuce: I remember my mom’s hugs.
Ghost! Ace: I remember my brother teaching me card tricks.
Ghost! Yuu: And I remember getting my neck snapped in fucking half.
_=_
Riddle: Let me see what you have.
Child! Yuu: A KNIFE!
Riddle: NO!
Trey: Why do they have a knife?!
_=_
Yuu: I think we all know why we’re here.
Crowley:
Crowley: Yuu, you burnt half of the forest down.
Yuu: And do I care? No! What are you going to do? Not pay me?
Crowley: I don’t even pay you?
Yuu: Exactly!
_=_
Mickey: Hey Yuu, are you d-
HoM! Yuu: Depressed?
Mickey:
Mickey: I was going to say d-
Yuu: Dumb?
Mickey: No, d-
Yuu: Drained
Mickey: -done with their work. Hey Yuu, do you want to talk? We’re all here for you.
_=_
Disney Fanatic! Yuu: KILL THE BEAST!
OB! Leona: That’s pretty fucking offensive.
DF! Yuu: Oh sorry I got caught up in the moment- I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings-
_=_
DF! Yuu, on Jade’s back: I AM MOANAAAAAAAA!
Jade: What?
Kalim: Huh?
DF! Yuu: Wait shit this isn’t a boat.
Azul: We’ve been swimming for 10 minutes how are you already singing randomly-
_=_
Percy/Penny: Mom/Dad, why do I sometimes here you, Ace, and Deuce making weird noises?
Yuu: *Doesn’t want to admit that they beat Ace and Deuce up for being stupid* Se-
Deuce: SIMPLE, YUU IS JUST REALLY GOOD AT MASSAGES.
Ace: …You could’ve just said the truth.
_=_
Yuu: Merry Christmas, Crowley! It’s pretty muggy today, isn’t it?
Crowley: Yuu, if I find out you snuck into the kitchen in the school and the dorms to steal all of the mugs to put outside, you will be cleaning all 1,000 windows in the school.
Yuu: *Drinks hot chocolate out of a bowl*
_=_
Yuu: Lilia! I got you a Christmas present!
Lilia: Oh, how nice of you-
Lilia:
Lilia: Yuu, this is a coffin.
Yuu: You’re ancient man, I expect you to die this Christmas.
Lilia: Haha, pretty funny joke Yuu.
Yuu: Who said I was joking?
Lilia: What.
_=_
The real reason why the Quartet fell out
Ace: *Tapping*
Deuce: *Taps back*
Grim: *Taps aggressively*
Yuu: *Slams the table* hOW FUCKING DARE YOU THREE-
_=_
*Take 2*
Yuu: I can’t believe this. How could you?!
Ace: Oh, how could I?! Well, welcome to the real world Yuu!
Yuu: I’m taking Grim with me!
Grim: Who says I want to be with you?
Deuce: *Quietly boiling in anger as he puts away the Monopoly board* No one here knows the rules, I think we should stop.
Yuu: I DON’T KNOW THE RULES?! YOU-
_=_
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yespolkadotkitty · 3 years
Note
"We're snowed in and there is not a lot of space and heat" with your choice of Joel character? Maybe Heller? 🥰
Oooooooohhh
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Words: 900 ~ Pairing: Erik Heller x female reader ~ Warnings: Brief mention of an attack and rescue
-----
“Now what do we do?”
Erik Heller turns from the window. You both woke up to this white-out, snow beyond the door that looks knee-deep. Today Heller was meant to be taking you home from this uninhabitable place, but that doesn’t look likely now.
“Now we wait,” he replies, in that annoyingly calm way of his.
“For days?”
“If necessary, ja.” He stalks away from the window and grabs some logs from the pile by the door. “I will stoke the fire.”
You glare at the line of his broad back as he piles the logs he felled yesterday on to the wilting flame in the fireplace.
This cabin is a waystation for soldiers-for-hire like Erik. A job he seems very good at, if the speed at which he rescued you from opportunist bandits is anything to go by. You’ll never forget the flinty look in his maple-brown eyes during the stand off. All parties made it out alive, incredibly, but one of the bandits is going to be walking funny for some time after Erik put a bullet in his calf.
“This should warm you up,” Erik says, still facing the flickering flames, the red and orange greedily licking at the fresh wood.
Your heart softens. It’s hardly his fault that it snowed so hard. You are in the mountains after all. “Thankyou,” you say. “Shall I make some tea?”
“Coffee, if you don’t mind,” he says in his low, pleasantly musical German accent. You learned German at school and the accent never struck you as particularly seductive until you met the tall, blond man currently turning over logs in the iron hearth.
“Sure.”
You busy yourself in the small kitchen area, making tea for you and coffee, black, for Erik. When you turn with the mugs in hand, he’s standing looking into the flames. His grey knit sweater looks impossibly soft. You want to reach out and put your palm over his heart, feel the organ beat under layers of wool and skin and muscle, but you don’t. Because you barely know him.
“Here.”
“Thankyou.” He inclines his head slightly, like a 1940s gentleman. That look would suit him. Grey waistcoat, tweed jacket, smart shoes.
You shake the image off. “I don’t suppose there are any boardgames here?”
****
Hours later, you’ve played four games of Monopoly. Erik has a very dry sense of humour and a quick wit. Unfortunately, wit alone can’t keep you warm. The fire is burning steadily, but the cabin is a large space and the snow outside is making the building cold, even if you continue to chain-drink tea until you feel like your organs are floating around inside you.
You must shiver noticeably, because Erik mutters your name.
You look up. “Hmm?”
“You should have told me you were still cold.”
“I’m fine.”
He grabs your hand. You know your fingers are like ice, and he swears lowly. “You are not fine. You will catch your death.”
You huff. “Sounds like something my mum would say.”
“Then she is a sensible woman,” he mutters.
“For God’s sake if you ever meet her don’t tell her that. She’ll be immediately casting you as her son in law.”
As soon as the words are out of your mouth you regret them. “Sorry,” you blurt out. “It was a joke. You’re probably already married. Or with someone.” You look away. Your face is burning.
Erik squeezes your hand gently. “I’m not married. Or with anyone. There was a woman, a long time ago, but.. She died.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” On instinct you wrap yourself around him for a tight hug. His heart beats steadily under your ear. “Me and my big fat mouth.”
He chuckles and the sound is lovely and deep from your position on his chest. “Doesn’t matter. Come on. Let’s get you warm.”
You open your mouth to say yes, it does matter, but then you gasp when he lifts you up into his arms. You panic for a second, clutch at his arms and boy, he’s jacked under that sweater. “What are you doing?”
“Bed is the warmest place here. Thick sheets, and my old CO taught me a trick about heating up beds.”
When you snort, he huffs. “Not like that. You’ll see.”
He sets you down on the bed with a gentleness surprising from someone his size.
When he returns five minutes later, he’s holding something wrapped in a bundle of cloth. He peels a little back to show you a brick.
“Put the brick in the fire, wrap it up, slide it at the foot of the bed under the sheets. A hot water bottle.”
You wiggle your feet down until your toes just brush the hot bundle. It’s divine. “Oh,” you moan.
A muscle in Erik’s jaw twitches. He turns to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To guard the door,” he grates out.
“From who? The snowdrift is three feet deep! And the guys who grabbed me were opportunistic. Would they really see wading through three feet of snow an opportunity?”
He nods slightly. “Fine. But I can’t stay here with you. It’s not safe. For you.”
You furrow your brows. “You won’t hurt me.”
“No. Not that.” His gaze flicks down your body, lust darkening his beautiful eyes, and you think: oh. Everything inside you heats.
Then you hold out your hand and say, “Stay anyway. I want you.”
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