#Idek guys

[permanently-stressed]

this is MY SWAN. SONG.

"IT ALL WENT WRONG". SONG.

MY MIND IS NOT. STRONG.

[lavendernhoney]

Ok so Penelope’s night goes

1) almost gets proposed to but her bestie/long time crush publicly breaks it up

2) said crush/ extremely eligible bachelor chases down her carriage as she flees bc she is very heartbroken and embarrassed

3) Colin is entirely unapologetic and instead confesses love

4) she makes out with him, gets fingered

5) gets proposed to

6) is immediately taken in to meet Colin’s family as his betrothed (they are thrilled save her ex bestie who is pissed)

7) sneaks out in the middle of the night to secretly publish her OWN ENGAGEMENT ANNOUNCEMTENT

icon who’s doing it like her

[verfound]

FIC: "The Dorm" (MLB; Lukanette; LBSC Lukanette Month 2024)

@lovebugs-and-snakecharmers is doing a Lukanette Month for September 2024, and we all just kinda tossed some prompts in the disco to compile a list?  We ended up with 71 prompts, so I decided I’d roll some dice to pick a prompt, do a twenty minute (ish, bc we all know sometimes they run away from me) sprint, and try to get some short fics out this month?

Read on Ao3

Prompt 22: Dorm

Luka wasn’t sure who was banging on his door at…seven o’clock on a Sunday morning, but he had Words for whoever the hell it was.  Colorful words he had learned at entirely too young an age from the Captain that he probably shouldn’t use in polite company, but it was seven o-fucking-clock in the fucking morning on a fucking Sunday, and he wasn’t feeling very polite.

The banging continued, and Luka groaned as he scrubbed at his face.  He finally reached the door and yanked it open, ready to chew out whoever the hell was on the other side.

He swore to God, if it was Dingo…

Except it wasn’t.

It was Tom.

Still wearing a flour-dusted apron and looking…kind of desperate.

What the fuck…?

“Luka!” he cried, his smile as wide as ever but filled with too much nervous energy.  He looked like…well, Marinette stressing the night before a big project was due.  “So glad you’re up!  Can I come in?”

“…I was not up,” Luka said, numbly, as he blinked at the man.  “Just because I’m ‘up’ now doesn’t mean I was ‘up’ when you…Tom.  Tom.  Do you realize what time it is?”

“I would have come earlier, but Sabine seemed to think you’d still be asleep,” Tom said, and a strangled laugh was startled out of Luka.  And Tom HADN’T?  Hadn’t he known him long enough to know better?  On a SUNDAY?  “Please, son.  It’s important.  I have a huge favor to ask you.  It’s about Marinette.”

Luka was suddenly very ‘up’.

…awake!

Alert!

Not…God-fucking-dammit he needed some coffee…

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowing.  “Is Marinette all right?”

“Luka.  Son,” Tom started, wringing his hands anxiously in front of him, “have you seen her dorm???”

– V –

The problem had started about a month ago, when Marinette was first looking into student housing.  Technically she lived close enough to ESMOD that she could commute from her home at the bakery, but it had been important to her to live away from home while she was studying.  After so many years fighting Hawkmoth, she had wanted that freedom.  That independence.

Luka could understand that.

Her mother could understand that.

Her father, on the other hand…Tom had always been protective of his little girl.  And that was fine, usually.  He just loved her fiercely and unapologetically.  It was one of the things Luka loved about him.

It was also one of the things Marinette was finding particularly…well.  Smothering.  At the moment.  And she desperately wanted the chance to live on her own.

Student housing was usually reserved for international students or special cases, so she had had to start looking for nearby flats to share with fellow students.  Juleka and Rose were moving in together and would have offered a spare room, but their own respective universities were far enough away that it made commuting just a bit trickier, and Marinette hadn’t been willing to risk exposing the Miracle Box using Kaalki for transport every day.

“You could portal your scooter,” Luka had suggested, shrugging, but she had just rolled her eyes and nudged his ribs with her elbow.

“Kaalki would throw a fit,” she insisted, “and it’s still too risky.  Yeah, Hawkmoth…Gabriel’s in prison now, but the city is still tense.  Gabriel had his Miraculous too long for Paris to not be.  Ladybug is still needed, at least for now, and I can’t just go tossing portals all over the place.  You know better, Luka.”

He did, and he usually respected and supported her decisions when it came to the Miracle Box  - she was the Guardian, after all – but he was still…concerned.  The places she had been looking at weren’t…well.  He would rather her risk a portal and live with his sister, where he knew she’d be safe, than stay at half the places she’d looked at.

He had never really thought Paris was so…dangerous.  Before.

She had eventually found a place, although it wasn’t…it didn’t…they all had concerns.  To put it nicely.

“…why don’cha have her move in with you?” Dingo had asked him when she had first brought them over.  Well.  She had invited him, but he had been with Dingo when he’d gotten her call, and Dingo had refused to buzz off.  Something about how he ‘hadn’t seen his baby girl in months, Lulu – stop hogging her!’  Or something.

“I can’t do that, Ding,” he had sighed.  “She’s not…we’re not…”

He wasn’t quite sure what they were anymore.  Less than what he wanted but more than what he’d ever hoped for.  Asking her to move in felt like it would tip that delicate balance, but he wasn’t sure in which direction.  He wasn’t sure he could live with it, if she said no.

“You barely live here,” Dingo had sniffed.  “She could keep your bed warm for you while you’re on the road.”

He had said it with an impressive waggle of his eyebrows.  It was almost a shame Luka had had to shove him into an alley (and a pile of overripe garbage bags tossed next to a dumpster) as they passed.

(He had resumed the argument the day before, when they’d helped Marinette move in, and had kept it up well into the night – which was part of why Luka was so cranky that Sunday morning.)

Still.  The place was…fine.  It was fine.  For a first flat.  A ‘dorm’.  Her roommates were…all right.  He was trusting her, and she had looked so happy as she’d showed off her room with the kinda-sorta-maybe broken window (it was just the lock, not the glass, and Luka wasn’t sure how he felt about that) that he couldn’t just…declare it a shithole and insist she find somewhere else.  Somewhere like his flat, with its locking windows and running water.

“It’s a work in progress,” she had conceded when she’d seen their expressions, “but it’s home!  I’ll make it work!”

Which is what led him to Sunday morning, barely awake after staying out with Dingo until entirely too late (early) Saturday Night and listening to Marinette’s father rant in his living room.

“Make it work?” Tom parroted, staring at Luka with wide eyes.  Apparently he had tried to surprise her with a ‘First Day Breakfast’ – but she had still been asleep, still wiped from the day before, and he had left her coffee soaking into the welcome mat when one of her neighbors had come out of his own door and asked if Tom was the new dealer.  “She’s going to make it work?!  Luka, you’ve seen the place – she’s going to get herself murdered!”

“She can handle herself,” Luka had offered, even though he very much had the same concerns.  Still.  It was Marinette’s choice, and he was trying to respect that.  “She’s going to pick up some pepper spray.  She knows how to hold her keys.”

“Oh, yes, because that will make it all right when some ruffian mugs her on her way home from the library!” Tom scoffed, still fuming.  He stalked over to the couch and sat down on the crates Luka used a coffee table directly across from Luka.  “Luka.  Son.  I need you to do something for me.  For Marinette.”

“Anything,” Luka said automatically, without hesitation, because of course he would.  If it was for Marinette.

“I need you to ask her to move in with you,” Tom said, and Luka froze.

Well.

He almost froze.

He was pretty sure his eyes bugged out and his mouth dropped open.  Then he froze.

“She will, Luka.  If you ask.  I’ve already tried to convince her – Dingo’s already tried,” Tom said, shaking his head.  And Luka was surprised by that, because Dingo hadn’t said anything and…he actually hadn’t realized Tom knew who Dingo was.  He hadn’t thought they’d met.  There must have been some kind of look on his face, because Tom rolled his eyes and smiled at him.  “It was adorable that he thought letting his hair down and removing the shades would fool us.  I give him points for trying, though.”

“…I don’t think I want to know,” Luka sighed, shaking his head.  “Look.  Tom.  I can’t –”

“You can, Luka,” Tom said, frowning.  “She’ll say yes.  If it’s you.  If you ask.  She won’t ask you herself – believe me, I’ve tried to convince her to – but if you ask her…”

“…you told her to ask me?” he asked, sitting up a bit straighter and blinking at him.  “You…you’d be ok with it?  Her living here?  Us living…together?”

“Luka,” Tom said, giving him a Look that Luka was ninety percent sure was supposed to mean something, but he was still a little too caught up on Tom’s fine with us living together to pick up on it.  “Son.  Please.”

He pushed something into Luka’s hand, and he looked down to see it was his phone.  He had forgotten he had left it on the coffee table the night…earlier that morning.  There were a few notifications on the screen – from Marinette, he saw, from the night before.  Quickly reading through them, he noted they all sounded too…falsely cheerful to be really convincing.

“She hasn’t even unpacked yet, Luka,” Tom said.  “We could have her settled in by this afternoon.  I’ll close the bakery, and we’ll use the van.”

…his building didn’t have rats.

It would be nice to spend more time with Sass again.

It would be really nice, having all that extra time with Marinette…

Juleka had never complained about having him as a bunkmate, either – well.  Nothing too serious, at least, and he didn’t loiter in the stairwell selling questionable substances.  Most of her complaints stemmed from being his sister.

“…go get the van,” he sighed, massaging his temples.  “I’ll call her.”

When he showed up at her door fifteen minutes later – without calling, because it had gone straight to voicemail (like his would have, if she had tried calling him at seven o’clock on a fucking Sunday morning) – she was already up.  He had an entire speech about how he had a spare room within a reasonable walking distance to her school and the bakery and how important things like dependable plumbing and pest control are and the dangers of questionable doo-wop groups prepared, but when she flung the door open and stood there, panting, with…a kitchen knife held in her hand like she was ready to attack someone?

What the shit?

But she stood there, knife in hand and a look of terrified panic on her face, and he’d barely gotten her name out – never mind his speech – before she threw the knife behind her and flung her arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly as she started sobbing.

“Please, Luka, I can’t stay here there are rats bigger than Sass please let me live with you,” she gasped in a rush.  Her ‘roommate’ – the stoner with the septum piercing that had called Marinette by a different name every time he’d been over – was sitting on the couch behind them, and she rolled her eyes before turning back to the television and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘pussy’ in their direction.  “I swear the unit the landlord showed me wasn’t this bad, and it was so cheap, but I never thought…I didn’t want to overstep, but I hate this place, and I haven’t even been here a whole day but the shower was brown, Luka, and I didn’t sleep because of the screaming and the rat –”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok,” he said, rubbing her back.  “Mari.  It’s ok.  I wanted to ask, but you…it’s ok.  Tom’s getting the van.  We’ll have you out before noon.  It’s ok.”

She was still crying when she looked up at him, but there was a hesitant smile on her face that was enough to break his heart.  He brushed her bangs back and kissed her forehead, and when she sucked in a breath and her hand fisted in his shirt…it was a little too easy, when he started to pull away and saw how wide and blue her eyes were, staring up at him like that…her hand twisted in his shirt to pull him closer, and he wasn’t kissing her forehead that time.

“…come on,” he said, his voice soft and low when the finally separated.  He swallowed, his eyes flicking back down to her lips for a moment before returning to her eyes.  Her smile felt easier, and it was too easy to steal another quick kiss.  “Let’s get you home.”

[moonymelly]

I had this fricken weird half awake half sleeping dream where right after Biggerler said “To the ball, of course.” HE JUST STARTED HITTING THE GRIDDY WITH THAT STRAIGHT LOOK ON HIS FACE AND THE LORAX WAS MORTIFIED

WHAT AM I A 7th GRADE BOY?!?!!? HELP

[princessamericachavez]

In Lucy’s defense, it’s late, and she’s exhausted after her first three intensive weeks in UC school, and she’s had more than a couple margaritas. There is also the fact that Noah is one of the very very few classmates that hasn’t tried to hit on her, even if he did nickname her Hot Pants after the third class due to an incident that is never to be discussed again. 

It’s been a long while since Lucy’s had a friend like this. Not an almost-sibling, like Tamara, or a rookie like Aaron or Selina, or an older and cooler person to look up to like Angela or Nyla. Other than Nolan, who is twenty years her elder and currently too head over heels with his gorgeous fianceé to spend much time with her... it’s been years since Lucy has had a true and close friend. Not since Jackson. 

So when Noah leans in, across the tiny table at the shitty bar they’ve claimed as their own, and says “Everyone here is running from something, or someone. What’s your story, Hot Pants?” She gives in to the impulse (and the margaritas). 

“My TO. Well, my former TO.”

“Pain in the ass?”

“Yes,” she laughs. “But that’s not it.”

Noah arches his eyebrows and waits for her to continue. He’s a good listener like that. He reminds her of her lost friend so much...

“It’s just... Look, he’s a good person. He’s actually very sweet, deep down, once you get past all the tough guy act. We’ve actually gotten pretty close. That’s... that’s kinda the problem.”

Noah’s brow furrows and she knows what he’s thinking ever before he says: 

“He hitting on you.”

“No!” She jumps. “Well, maybe. Sort of. Not really. I don’t know, that’s the problem.”

Silence and a head tilt prompt her to continue, to say out loud the one thing she’s been terrified of admitting. 

“I might be in love with him.”

Which is a problem, because she has a boyfriend. Because he has a girlfriend. Because this could really mess everything up. 

“It’s... it’s not like I didn’t know. I mean, I kinda did. Deep down. But we went undercover a few weeks ago and things got...”

“Intimate?”

“Yes!”

Noah laughs. 

“That happens. You just gotta shake it off.”

Lucy shakes her head, frustrated. 

“It wasn’t just the physical thing. I mean, it was. We kissed once for practice and suddenly it was like... like all these things I’d been keeping inside of me wanted to burst out. And... and I think he felt it too. And then during the mission it was just... just so much. And he suddenly said it didn’t feel like pretend and all I could think about was ‘he knows’ and how I would lose him for good because there is no way he will cross that line. He’s too by-the-book for that. So I...”

“You ran.”

“He sort of encouraged me to come here. I guess he just thought putting some space and time between us would be better.”

The sadness she’s been carrying around weights heavy on her as she admits it out loud. She blinks back tears and curses the alcohol for this unforeseen vulnerability. She wants to be taken seriously here, not to play the broken-hearted girl in love with someone who will never love her back. 

“What’s his name?” Noah asks. 

“Bradford. Tim Bradford.”

I’m in love with Tim Bradford, she admits to herself. Fuck.

“Well, if he let you go, I assume he’s an idiot,” Noah nods, matter-of-factly. 

“He’s not. He really isn’t,” she jumps to Tim’s defense instinctually. 

She finally dares to look up, and finds Noah’s eyes, steady and honest and surprisingly kind for someone who can play-pretend to be the coldest and cruelest kind of man if the situation demands it. Right now, he’s just warm. She likes him. She likes having this kind of friend again. 

“Then, maybe... maybe he’ll get his act together and realize he’d be an idiot to let you go.”

Lucy laughs, and cleans a tear before it can roll down her cheek. 

“Yeah... in my dreams, maybe.”

“Dreams are all we’ve got, Hot Pants. Dreams, and margaritas.”

“Now you’re talking,” she smiles, thankful for the subject change. 

“I’ll get us another round,” Noah says. “And then, you can tell me the full story.”

“Oh, no... that really isn’t necessary.”

But Noah is already gone to get more drinks and as much as Lucy dreads bearing herself open with him, she knows that no harm will come from it. There’s a different kinda trust built between people who lie for a living, when they can only be sincere with each other. And there is absolutely no way that this will ever get to Tim, anyway. So, what’s the harm in sharing?

[littledozerdraws]

Smoothie Boys 💚

[nayruwu]

me trying to figure out if guren actually cares about shinya beyond the selfish desire to keep him by his side

[mountainashes]

Idek what this is it started as drawing a pose from some random image in my gallery and just devolved into this.

[dude-could-you-be-more-gay]

Louis says he can’t hang out with me because someone needs to watch Claudia??? You have known her for a few days and me for thirty years but ok

[ayosdesignz-blog]

Rewatching ppg episodes is making me comprehend facts I already knew! Like the fact that Mojo& The Professor created the ppg while Mojo&Him created the rrb. Why is he technically big brother uncle daddy to both sets of these kids?!! 😭

Like I know in fandom the general acceptance had been he's the powerpuffgirls' adoptive elder brother while for the rowdyruffboys he's one half of a parental set unit after Him revives them anew.

But look at their family tree!

Nothing makes sense, no one is blood related, but they are all technically family...somehow!!

And if we bring up the fact that Him has been caught live and in person licking the Professor like a lollipop, the Professor only viewing Mojo as his son formerly known as Jojo when the monkey pled his case, the rrbs looking identical to the ppgs down to the color coordination, and Bubbles canonically having some kind of crush on her male lookalike for fake but actually cousin/brother doppleganger...

It's a lot.

[quiggel]

This is Motherfucker, his wife, Fatherfucker, and their sons, Daughterfucker and Sonfucker.

[kaydeefalls]

"Tell me what happened. Don't be modest."

"Tell me what happened. Don't be modest." Joe's eyes are twinkling in a manner that Nile does not find endearing in the slightest.

She heaves out a sigh. "Look, I don't know why it matters."

"It was very impressive," Nicky says, the corners of his mouth twitching suspiciously. "I have truly never seen the like."

Nile glares at him. "Et tu, Nicolò?"

"Come, it can't be so very terrible," Joe coaxes. "I promise you I have seen worse."

"Worse?" Nile gestures down at herself. "Are you kidding me, this is a brand new sweater, I really liked this sweater. Do you know how hard it is to get bloodstains out of white cashmere?"

"Yes, actually, quite intimately," Joe says. "Although I'm still not sure how you managed--"

"Head wounds," Nicky says sagely. "They bleed a lot."

"Right, but I thought you were teaching her how to win at darts. Even Booker could not manage to injure himself on a pub dart."

Nile puts her head in her hands. "It wasn't a dart."

"Nile," Nicky says cheerfully, "has been learning knife tricks from Andy."

"Oh, no," Joe says, badly concealing his grin.

"Oh, yes," Nile grumbles. "You know that thing, with the pocketknife, where you give it that twirl as you throw it--"

"And it goes ping! into the target," Nicky agrees. "Much more fun than those blunt little darts."

"I take it your knife did not go ping into the target," Joe says kindly.

"It bounced right off it," Nile says, dully, resigned to her fate. "And I was standing a little too close to it when I threw. So then--"

Nicky grins outright. "I think the word you are looking for is boomerang."

"Right into my fucking skull. Oh, my god, if you don't stop laughing, Joe, I am gonna--"

"Oh, Nile," Joe wheezes out, when he can catch his breath. "You are going to fit right in."

[fella-lovin-fella]

just came home from the store with my boyfriend and i couldn't find my phone so i go out to the car to look. i open the car door and what do i see? a phone! i go to grab it and realize this isn't my phone. it's my boyfriend's phone.

why is this funny? because my boyfriend literally made a joke about his Bluetooth pairing and didn't even realize his phone wasnt even in the house. my man was listening to nothing.

[moonymelly]

HAPPY ROOT BEAR N HOT DOG DAY 🔥🇺🇸🏈🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

EEEEAHHHHHHHHHHH *eagle noises*

[eroswmorals]

i think if i had to choose between finding one (1) man in my attic or like 100000 cockroaches, i would choose finding a man

you can lock a man in your attic, you cant lock roaches in there tho, they're EVERYWHERE

you could call the police on the man, but there are no cockroach crime fighters

you can starve a man, but i think roaches will live forever. maybe they'll eat their own deceased siblings. they are wild and unpredictable.

idk i think maybe im biased bc i have a cockroach phobia but like yeah