#None of us make a big deal about things that are less... Normal for the genders?

[mrfoox]

I love that my guy group just... Dont care about genders and such.

My username have always had an Mr in it. I don't think any of them questioned it. Fabian has one account with 'Lady' in it. We regularly say 'girl/queen' to each other. And they call me dude and bro

It's such a small thing obviously but I really like how that's always been the way we have had it

[boyfhee]

UNKISS ⋆ nrk

prompt · “you're so dumb” insert fond smile requested

g · bittersweet / fluff warnings · kissing, profanities wc · 0.9k

note · hi lily i hope u like this :< pls take care of urself, yeah? i luv u, and thanks to @flwrshee and @dokiyeom for beta reading + helping me with the ending. i asked both of them for advice and used neither's 😆☝️ go follow them

riki follows you closely behind as you rush down from the hallways to the middle of the football ground for some reason, anger spilling around with every step you take. “riki, what the fuck? what the actual fuck? how could y— why did you do that?” 

“relax, it was just a kiss,” and his voice is calm, like it’s just a kiss, just a moment where his lips touched yours, like it’s an everyday thing, as if you’re making a big deal out of it by making it sound like he just committed a crime. you don’t know why or how he’s so normal about this while you feel every nerve in your body go off with sirens. 

“my first kiss,” you turn around hastily, your index finger pointed at him as he takes a step back to avoid crashing into you. “it was my first kiss, riki, and you took it. you, and you’re not even my boyfriend,” 

is this supposed to be a secret? yes. are you in the middle of the football ground throwing a tantrum like a five year old, for the world to know? also yes, and you couldn’t care less, actually. the fact that riki took your first kiss easily tops your list of concerns at the moment. 

“i am,” he blinks, as if he’s stating a fact, hands on his waist like he’s making a completely valid point. “a fake one, but i am still your boyfriend,” you roll your eyes, scoffing at his oh so true words before shooting him a glare. 

“that doesn’t even make sense. i thought i made it clear when i said ‘no kissing,’ at the beginning of this fake dating thing,” there were three rules, actually— no kissing, none of you are allowed to go on dates with someone else, this is a secret which means, none of you are allowed to breathe a word about this to anyone, not even your best friends. 

“well, what do you expect me to do when your friends dare me to kiss you?” another factual information falls off his lips, it’s actually true this time. truth and dare with friends— never a good option, especially when you’re playing with your fake boyfriend and when your friends are spawns of the devil. 

“i don’t know, you should’ve made an excuse to not kiss me, or you could’ve pretended to kiss me, you know, since this is all about pretending,” right, all about pretending, from pretending to date, to pretending to like each other, fake smiles and fake words of affirmations, fake sweet nothings whispered and fake claims of being in love— it’s all about pretending and riki, he isn’t enjoying this little play at all.

he doesn’t like that every i love you that leaves his mouth manages to convince the world but you. he hates that at the end of the day, every second spent with him is simply tagged as ‘fake dating’ under the chapters named after him in your life. riki despises the fact that no matter how true his feelings are, in your eyes, they’re just an act pulled by him to convince people he doesn’t care about, and he hates himself for not being able to tell you how he actually feels. 

“eh, what’s done is done. besides, it can’t be that bad to kiss me,” so, he just picks up pieces of you from the smiles and hugs you give him here and there, hoping that there will be a day when you will actually consider turning whatever you two have into something more serious, something real.  

you feel your cheeks heat up at his words as you turn around to face away from him. truthfully, the kiss wasn’t half bad. it only lasted for a few seconds, but the ghost of his lips still lingers over yours as if you’re the home they’ve been looking for. you can still taste faint flavour of strawberry from the strawberry milk he had during the game. the moment replays at the back of your head like a movie, one that makes your heart beat relentlessly everytime you think about it. you don’t even know why your mind keeps travelling back to it every now and then. 

“whatever, ‘ki, first kisses are important to me,” you like the fact that he hasn’t noticed your flustered face, he likes the little name you’ve given him unknowingly. “i wish we could just…unkiss or something,” 

“that isn’t even a thing,” he chuckles, earning another glare from you in return. “you’re so dumb,” your words make no sense, but riki can feel himself smiling fondly at your stupid thoughts, his eyes fixed on you while yours are staring at the horizon with slight annoyance. what you said is baseless, but the next second, he’s actually considering it; to unkiss, if that’s even a thing— he can make it a thing, perhaps,

the next thing you know, riki is cupping your face to make you look at him, and before you could say something, his lips are on yours again, catching you by surprise as he pulls you a little closer. you swear your heart might’ve just skipped several beats, another second passes as you process the situation, and riki pulls away the very next moment. “there, i returned your first kiss back to you,” 

and all it took riki is a kiss to find his way to your head, and an unkiss to find his way to your heart.

[aforestescape]

simon ‘ghost’ riley and johnny ‘soap’ mctavish x reader - adorable. now give them both a boyfriend

content includes: i want two boyfriends and i want the boyfriends to be boyfriends. male!reader or gn!reader; ‘boyfriend’ used for reader but no defined pronouns, eludes to sex

i was rambling with some online friends earlier about how great it’d be to have two bfs

more of them here.

beds: double cuddles. being the middle spoon is the best until it’s not…

in the beginning of your relationship napping and sleeping together is a bit awkward. not because you aren’t all comfortable with each other at this point; it’s the fact that none of you have a bed truly big enough to fit the three of you comfortably.

johnny is a clingy sleeper. large body seeking out whoever’s limbs are closest and koala-ing onto them. simon on the other hand prefers to spread out and seems to hate the feeling of covers or blankets over him. he sleeps naked most of the time and will kick all the covers off in his sleep. it’s not uncommon to find yourself waking between slumber and having to try and drag the blankets back over yourself. only to find your arm and/or leg stuck in johnnys hold that strengthens with your movement.

and they’re both just large. beefy and hairy men, taking up all the space on the bed. summer nights being the worst, even with the air con set to a staggering 16 degrees celsius. all that muscled mass and body fat, sticky skin and ticklish hair. growing boners pressed against tight skin, you can hardly get a well rested night.

no matter your size it’s never not a mess of limbs to untangle from come morning. only the fact that it’s them making you put up with the less than great sleeping arrangement.

but those are just the days you decide to sleep together in bed. of course there are nights when one of you decides to stay in your respective flat. or even rarer nights when you all manage to sleep on your own, nobody to share space with.

needless to say, when you all finally move in together you spend a good amount of money on a bed large enough for the three of you.

two times the love

one thing to be said about having two partners, you had double the chances for a person to put up with your jokes and attitude. after a particularly hard day at work, having to deal with your coworkers who were always a bit too nosey. somehow never understanding that you don’t owe them an introspective look into your life. especially your love life that they were keen on working out after they realized you were dating two attractive and well fit men.

coming into your home, grumbling as the door slams a little harder than normal behind you.

you let out a sigh of relief as you spend the rest of your night in the comfort of their bodies. simon letting you nuzzle your head into the heft of his arm. johnny running the palm of his hand over your head in a soothing manner, mumbling sweet words to you in his thick accent.

coming home to cuddle with them, play games, cook dinner together. your own little bubble in the world that made you feel safe. you were safe, they’d protect you even when you don’t need it.

“i’m glad we can all be gay together,” you say jokingly, voice muffled against simon’s arm.

———

another night spent in your kit, leaned against the counter with a cooler in your hands. johnny sitting on top of the island across from you and simon stood next to his spread legs. you watch fondly as you all chat, simons fingers splayed over johns thigh. squeezing in an absentminded gesture, stimming more than anything.

nowadays it was rare for you all to see each other at the same time. even though you’d finally all saved and scrapped change to move in together, a nice little house with a decent amount of land. enough space for a garden that you’d brought up wanting to start. how rewarding it’d feel to cook for each other with the foods you grew.

but a new place meant a shift in routines, having to grow around and between each other’s schedules. especially being in a relationship with multiple people, you’d learned how to work a calendar as best you could.

so you took the time to enjoy this. just you and your boys, drinking and filling your home with a new warmth that’d you’d already grown used to. easily recognized as the same warmth that squeezed in time with your heartbeat. you were pulled from your thoughts as your boyfriend laughed uproariously. simon giving johnny a warning tap on his leg.

“aye- im only teasin’ love.”

you watch simon roll his brown eyes before cutting over to you. “and what do you think of this? says everyone can use two more boyfriends.” simons voice is dry but you can tell he’s amused or maybe it’s the infectious laugh johnny had.

“hmm. two more men, that means john and kyle right? i think we’d need a bigger bed than the one we have now but i’m more than happy to share you idiots with them.”

falling into domestics

onto the topic of beds again. you’d already agreed it’d be an important investment. you spent a few days wondering if you should splurge upwards ten thousand for an alaskan king. a hefty price but it could be worth it.

that is until johnny brings up the fact that you can just make your own for cheaper. says he’d seen it online and it was a simpler and cheaper solution to your problem. with that out of the way you ordered two full sizes and a few different bed sets. you all ended up spending the most time on trying to find a bed frame than anything else.

coming home one day from running errands to find simon in the yard. rented table saw connected by an extension cord running to the house and a decent sized pile up of wood. some pieces already cut down the size and shape. you didn’t question him, not wanting to interrupt his process until later in the evening when you were having dinner.

when he gruffed out that he was making you a bed you were surprised. sharing a glance with johnny and then looking back at simon. biting your bottom lip as you’re struck with just how fucking hot that was. your boyfriend spending days in the hot sun to make a bed just for you to break in together.

simon agreed it was reward enough as you and johnny spent the first night in your new bed worshipping his body. hours of attention to his freckled and scarred skin. kissing, biting, and licking stripes up taut skin that had simons head tossed back into your pillows. whispering words of praise and love in his ears as you made love to him into the early morning hours.

delegating dates: i want my boyfriend to have a boyfriend and i want for them to go on boyfriend dates

you look up from behind your desktop monitor, watching as johnny ruffles his hand through his mohawk. he’d been growing out the hair, letting it shag down to the nape of his neck. you’d spent many hours running your fingers through the thick strands. pulling on his hair to bring him to your level for a kiss was quickly becoming a favorite activity of yours.

you watched in amusement as he spent minutes of time fiddling with his hair. somehow even after dating so long he still gets nervous to go on dates. it’s incredibly sweet, a sentiment you share with simon. as he runs product through his hair to get it managed you let your eyes drift over his body. your gaze darkening slightly at just how delicious your boyfriend looks.

you wish to yourself that you weren’t behind in your work pace so that you could enjoy just how good your partners looked tonight.

watching as simon has enough of johnny’s taking too long, stalking over to wrap his big arms over the smaller man’s waist. you watch quietly as simon leans his head down to mumble something in his ear, taking note of the shiver that runs over johns body.

you can feel your breath steal away just watching them love each other. so soft with one another, obvious affection for your eyes only to truly witness and understand. sometimes you’re really struck by how much you adore them. how utterly lucky you feel to be able to love them and in turn how they love you.

biting your lip, you slip your phone from your desk to take shots of them.

one of simons blonde head obscured into johnnys neck. johnnys pretty pink lips parted on a breath as he tilts his neck for him. another with johnnys pouted lips spreading into a grin. another click and they’re kissing, lips moving slowly with practiced effort.

it was truly like beholding art. some sort of feat and testament of the universes power to bring such gorgeous men together. to let them love one another in ways that simon and you could only ever grow up craving. a love that johnny so readily gave to you, a love he knew instantly upon meeting would be reserved for you two alone.

special edition: shared custody

before you move in together, riley is practically a child of divorce, the poor sweet pup. he’s simons biological child of course, but now you and johnny are his stepdads. so he’ll spend days between your flats. at first he’s not a big fan of all the traveling. but as soon as he realizes the long drives mean new places to explore he quickly perked up.

now he looks forward to weekends at yours or johnnys. a different path to take, somehow something’s always just a little different for him to be bound with energy on walks. and your place is near a pets store. if he wasn’t a better behaved pup, he’d try dragging you to the door everytime you get close to it. but since he is a good boy instead he’ll give you the saddest eyes. nosing your pants leg to get your attention as if you would skip getting him a treat.

okay but we had such a good and silly conversation about what we’d do with two partners and😭 i have so many more thoughts. also i’m a pet play ghoap truther👆🏽so if/when i write more for this expect it

[vodika-vibes]

👋

Hi Vod'ika! I adore your writing. I've only just come across it recently, but I especially love your Crosshair & Echo stuff 🥰

If you're still taking requests, would you mind doing something along these lines? Totally okay if not, there's no obligation!

I'd love to see Crosshair with a crush or pining - but he doesn't really realise it. It takes his brothers pointing things out to him to make him aware. With a non-Jedi fem!reader pretty please (who of course reciprocates his feelings).

Bonus points for brothers and omega being good wing-siblings?

Extra bonus points for them to all be happy and healthy together living their best lives with an alive Tech?

Sending you all the love 💕

The Other Side

Summary: Crosshair doesn’t have a crush. He’s above such things. Unluckily, his brothers and kid sister don’t agree.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 1035

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things

A/N: I wrote this without being on coffee, after being very sick all weekend, so I hope it's not too bad. Happy reading~

“You should ask her on a date!” Omega says cheerfully from where she’s sitting on a stone wall near where Crosshair is working on the speeder. This is normally Tech’s job, but Crosshair needed something to do with his hands, and Tech is on a date with Phee.

He sighs and pulls away to look at the petite blonde, “What are you talking about?”

Omega grins at him, “The pretty doctor. You should ask her out.”

Crosshair frowns, “No.”

“Oh, come on!” Omega hops off the wall and almost bounces over to Crosshair’s side, “You have a thing for her. We all see it.”

“You’re seeing things then,” Crosshair counters, “She’s a friend, no more and no less.”

She crosses her arms, “Well then, you won’t care that I invited her to dinner.”

“Does Hunter know that you’re harassing the Islands only Pediatric Surgeon?”

Omega opens her mouth to argue with him, only to pause when a soft laugh reaches their ears, “Well now, I can’t say that I’m feeling harassed. And I do prefer not having to cook.”

Crosshair’s gaze flickers towards the walkway in front of the house he shares with his siblings, and a small smile lifts his lips. “Lucky for you, then, that Wrecker loves cooking. And he always makes too much.”

“Too much food is never a problem,” She counters with a teasing smile as she steps around the fence and walks up to him and Omega, “I do appreciate the invite, Omega.”

For her part, Omega beams at the doctor, “I remember you mentioning that you spend most of your time alone, and thought you might appreciate it.”

“That is true,” she shrugs, “to all of it.”

Crosshair shoots her a look, “What’s wrong, Doc? No Boytoy for you to spend your time with?”

“Alas, I only have interest in one Boy and he doesn’t seem all that interested in being my toy.” She wanders to Crosshair and peers over his shoulder, “What are you working on?”

“You know speeders?” He asks with an arched brow.

“I know they’re supposed to go forward and back.” She counters with a grin.

Crosshair shakes his head and lightly taps the Doctor’s forehead, “You have that big brain and you never bothered to learn about speeders?”

“My big brain is dedicated to medicine.” She leans against his side, “So teach me.”

“Do I look like a teacher, kitten?”

“Mm. You don’t look anything like my university professors, no. They were much less good-looking.” She counters with a laugh.

Crosshair pauses and the only reason he doesn’t drop anything is from sheer stubbornness, “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe.” She shrugs again, “Come on, teach me.”

“I’m not teaching you how to take care of a speeder. This is Tech’s thing, not mine.”

A pout crosses her face and she drops her chin on his shoulder, “Please Crosshair?”

“How about I teach you how to shoot instead?”

Her pout becomes deeper, and then she grins, “Deal.”

“Oh thank kriff.”

“I heard that!”

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t, seeing as you’re using me as a chin rest.” Crosshair counters snarkily.

“You’re not a very good chin rest, you’re very bony.”

“So sorry for having a working skeletal system.”

“Apology accepted.” She pulls away and favors him with a bright smile, “I’m just going to head inside, is that alright?” She asks Crosshair, and Omega, who is watching with a growing grin on her face.

“We’re eating outside, actually.” Hunter calls from the porch, “Around back. Omega, come help me get things set up.”

“Oh, but—”

Hunter glances at Crosshair and then over to the Doctor, a small grin on his face, before he looks at Omega, “Now, Meg.”

“Oh, if you need any help—” Crosshair’s pretty Doctor starts, only to be cut off when Hunter waves her concerns away.

“You’re a guest. Crosshair, entertain her.”

“What am I, a clown?”

“You look like one.” Hunter counters, and then he dodges the filthy rag that Crosshair throws at him, “Be nice! We have company! You don’t want her thinking that you’re a violent criminal do you?”

“I hate you.”

“I’m okay with that. Come on, Meg.”

“Coming~”

Crosshair rubs his face with a heavy sigh, “Right, so I’m supposed to entertain you until dinner starts.” He wishes the others were here…but he’s also glad that they’re not. After all, all of his brothers have been bugging him about asking her out for weeks now.

It’s beginning to become infuriating.

“I have an idea!”

“I’m not pulling out my rifle for you to learn how to use it.” Crosshair warns.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” She says brightly, as she moves so she’s standing in front of him.

“No?”

“Nope.”

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

She grins a bright expression that makes his heart skip a beat. And then she steps closer until she’s in his personal space. She raises on her toes and lightly brushes her lips against his, and then she takes a step back, a nervous smile on her face.

Crosshair blinks at her, twice.

She looks even more nervous, absently twisting her hair between her fingers.

He’s genuinely speechless. The sensation of her lips, soft and warm, pressing against his seems to be the only thing he can think of. And he can’t help but think that it wasn’t enough. That he wants more.

“...I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that—” She says as she averts her gaze, “It’s just…I thought that…” She trails off, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Crosshair says, “Don’t apologize.” His hands move to cup her cheeks and he tilts her head so that she’s looking at him, “Do it again.”

She blinks, “What?”

“You heard me,”

“You don’t have to—” Crosshair cuts off her sentence with a heavy press of his lips against hers, and he presses himself against her as her arms come up to wrap around his neck.

Seems like his brothers were right about this whole thing, Crosshair thinks as he backs her up to sit on the hood of the speeder. He’s never going to tell them that, though. 

And then her tongue slides against his lips, and Crosshair can’t think of anything at all.

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

Random HC's That I Probably Overexplain - Cater Edition 1!

TW: Angst heavy, using kids for profit via social media, emotional/physical abuse (nothing explicit/gory) His mom was a family life vlogger. I've dabbled on this topic a few times before, but never got really into it. His mom ran a channel called the "Beloved Diamond Family", in which his mother went by Dreamy Diamond, and his older sisters went by Dazzling and Ditzy Diamond. He was "Daring Diamond" or sometimes just called "Little Gem/Diamond". "Daddy Diamond" was never around, but his mom sometimes went on rants about him on camera. They rarely made it onto the channel though. Part of the reason the Diamonds moved so much is because of his dad's work, but the other part was because of how much information his mom would divulge and put her kids in danger. Cater's dad did his best to protect his kids from the consequences of her actions, but couldn't get ahead of them. Cater was the star of many of the videos, as he was the baby and everyone wanted to see more of him. He hated being made to do everything that his mom said, or repeating the actions a hundred times until he got it "perfect", but the comments of other parents telling him how much their kids loved him and whatnot was enough to keep him going. It's also why he's so attached to his phone now and a big part of why he just keeps up the facade. To be caught at a less than picture perfect moment or with a subpar reaction at this point scares him. Irrationally, he worries about his mothers reaction, and because he's never really been to school for long enough to make friends, he has to act the only way he knows how and hope that people keep liking the show he puts on. A lot of the videos were pretty fluffy, happy videos, but Ms. Diamond would do anything for views, and did put out videos of Cater sobbing over his dead pet, about him breaking his arm on his skateboard, and a lot of her "prank" videos that were mostly just endangering her kids or trying to prove her husband was cheating. (At one point she did a "slip and slide" in the kitchen and called Cater over to try some of her cookies. He couldn't have been more than five or six, so he came running in excited and ended up in urgent care. All the scars and marks he got from his moms wacked out ideas have been carefully hidden under makeup and magic for years now, but sometimes he doesnt have the energy to cover them up on his clones). Obviously, none of the Diamond kids were off very well, but when they were "too big to be cute anymore" his mom kind of let the channel die out and became a more severe alcoholic. However, when her channel started to pick up traction again years later, Ms. Diamond decided to keep her channel going with behind the scenes clips and telling stories about her kids while mildly tipsy. She didn't tell her kids she was going to do this, and now that they're all 18 and over they want to stop her, but don't want to cause more drama from her. Cater's bigger sister wants to take her to court for everything she's done, but Cater and his eldest sister just want to ignore it and sweep it under the rug like nothing is going on because it hurts too much to revisit the things they used to have to do. Cater's mom is...a BoyMom. Like she is Not Normal about her son to a creepy uncomfortable extent and Cater doesn't know how to deal with it, he mostly tries to break contact with her, but she is relentless and a master guilt tripper. He had been looking forward to his 18th birthday to officially disown her or put a restraining order on her, but never had the heart to actually do it, because...it is his mom, and family never abandons each other unless you want to be a piece of shit, right? (This is not serious, please, if you have family that doesn't treat you well don't be afraid to leave if you can)

[skzoologist]

Req no4

A very clumsy Bae getting teased sm for how clumsy he is that particular day. Falling, tripping over, messing up smth idk what and spilling things

word count: ~2k

warnings: just extreme clumsiness and embarrassment

a/n: A request finally written, yippee! And no, this isn't a few minutes late, you're imagining things.

Back to the masterlist

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

Bae had no idea what came over him that day, if he was cursed or woken up on the wrong side of the bed, but he didn’t like it at all, not a single bit.

It had all started out small: just a few slip ups here, a few stumbling around there. None of them were a big deal and thankfully most of them happened when he was alone, out of his caring, yet sometimes overbearing bandmates' sights. Like when he had just woken up and gotten out of his bed, or, well, tried to would be a better word to use. Instead of starting his day out normally and not falling onto his elbow, like usual, he had found himself in a heap on the floor, limbs tangled up with his blanket as if it was a snake coiling around its prey. He could only silently huff at that, frustrated, grumbling about it all the while he had quickly gotten ready for the day.

But then when he’d sauntered out to get something to drink in the kitchen, he had wonderfully managed to spill the cold liquid onto his fresh clothes, and he was sure he was looking like a grumpy, soggy cat. Silent curses left his lips as he went to change into a new set of clothes with a small, soggy trail left behind in his wake, happy that he hadn’t managed to stain those somehow for the remainder of the day.

Still, maybe staying in bed would have been better for him. Then he wouldn’t have found himself in the situation he was currently trapped in, already feeling the humiliation that was to come.

Because against all odds, a simple dance practice where the whole group was together managed to turn into a game of dominoes, all thanks to him and his horribly inept self. Usually he wasn’t this clumsy, at best it was only a spilled drink or a limb that caught onto a door handle.

But for some god forsaken reason that day his limbs felt like they weren’t his and instead were just molten lead wielded to his body, and that all led to a wrong step amidst practice, his body crashing into Minho’s. Only a low yelp could escape his lips before the sudden collision, unable to stop himself and the disaster in itself.

Bae didn’t dare face anyone, much less his hyung who he crashed into, and so he opted to instead bury his face into Minho’s chest and remain laying there on top of the extremely puzzled male. He could hear the others rush over, the music stopping and shoes squeaking on the wooden floor with increased haste. Their worry and confusion was practically palpable in the air and it only caused Bae to hide away further, hands now holding onto Minho’s hoodie almost desperately.

In the next second questions rained upon Bae like fire from the heavens, hands gently placed upon his back or shoulders in search of an answer or reassurance, he wasn’t sure. At his lack of answer someone took the matter into their own hands and carefully prodded at his legs, a relieved sigh leaving their lips at the lack of any visible injury.

Because Bae wasn’t hiding away due to pain, rather, he was too embarrassed to face them all. He wasn’t supposed to make such mistakes, he was part of their core dance team for a reason, however he wasn’t really behaving like he was deserving of such a title.

Before his thoughts could spiral any deeper, digging himself a hole he wouldn’t be able to climb out of, strong hands wrapped themselves around his lax form.

“If you wanted to lay on me so badly you could have just asked, you know.”

It was Minho who spoke this time, his voice teasing and devoid of any anger. Hearing that, Bae finally emerged from his hiding spot, skin flushing as he was caught completely and utterly off-guard. He just crashed into the man, in dance practice no less, the one member in the team who was more strict to them than anyone else when it came to dancing, yet instead of being scolded for it, he got teased?

Bae couldn’t believe his ears. Surely he was having auditory hallucinations, there was no way he heard that correctly.

But before he could dwell on it any longer, Chan entered his line of sight, a worried expression sitting on his face and Bae immediately felt bad. There was no need for their leader to ask once again if he was alright, he had heard the male loud and clear the first time after all.

“I’m fine, sorry. I just-... I’m sorry.” - he rushed out, turning back to Minho guiltily as he uttered the last sentence shakily.

His cat-like hyung gave him a soft smile, the one that had no teasing or jokes behind it, only comfort and warmth. Bae just blinked at the sight, carving the rare occasion into his mind hastily, not wanting to forget it for a good while. And he was just about to smile back when he felt a hand firmly grasp his ass, shoulders hunching due to the pure shock that visibly travelled up his spine. He could feel his skin burn, pale tones now tainted with a warm shade of red.

When he glanced back down at Minho the male was now sporting a sly grin, not at all ashamed at being caught in the act. Bae glared at him, but it only caused Minho to laugh, and he wasn’t the only one. The others caught onto what was happening rather quickly, not wasting a time to join Minho and his shenanigans.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” - the male taunted him from underneath, urging Bae to nearly start choking him to death.

Except before he could start doing that, a sharp smack could be heard in the air that was only followed by long silence. A loud yelp left Bae’s lips this time as he was unable to stop himself, slowly turning back to see Seungmin with his arm held up. A clear proof that he was the perpetrator, one who wasn’t sorry one bit. Felix wasn’t far behind and nor was Jisung, but they froze in the air at Bae’s sharp gaze before anything could be done.

Within a second Bae was after the mischievous puppy, long legs moving him quickly and flawlessly. Seungmin’s laughter rang through the room as he was chased around, the others yelling and cheering for one of the two. Thankfully Bae truly wasn’t injured in the fall, the soft throbbing in his ankle now nearly gone and allowing him to run at full speed. And he was close, oh so close to catching his playful dongsaeng when the beanie on his head slipped down, covering his sight. 

There was only darkness and a loud, dull sound and Bae found himself on the floor again, thankfully not on top of someone this time.

The floor felt cooling for his rapidly heating skin and so he laid there, wishing to become one with the ground. Or maybe he should start digging himself a hole and live there, that way he wouldn’t make a constant fool out of himself anymore. But seeing as how his day had gone so far, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea as his clumsiness would find a way to botch that up as well.

While Bae was praying for a deity to make the floor swallow him up whole, his bandmates laughed, several nearly suffocating from the lack of air. If falling down two times right after each other wasn’t humiliating, hearing them having so much fun over his misery surely was. A loud groan escaped him, deciding to just pull the hat over his entire face and save himself from further mockery due to his now entirely red skin.

“H-hyung, are you, are you okay? You fell pretty hard over there.” - Jeongin asked amidst laughter, although to his credit, Bae could hear the maknae trying his best to calm himself down. Or maybe he just wanted to believe that, he didn’t know at that point.

Bae silently huffed and gave him a thumbs up, as only his pride was hurt and completely shattered in the fall. Would have been better if it was a bone in his opinion though, as he knew the boys would keep teasing him about this for days.

“You sure? Your skin is all flushed and red, Bae, all down to your chest!” - it was Hyunjin this time, not bothering to hide the amusement dripping from his voice.

This time Bae lifted his arm and gave him the middle finger, his other hand tugging the hoodie resting on his fallen form to hopelessly hide his showing skin. It was of no use, he was well aware, but it made him feel just a bit better, much like laying there in the darkness did.

“Alright, alright, let’s stop teasing our clumsy lil otter for now. You can continue when we get back to the dorms, yea?” - Chan said, nearby voice much too entertained and Bae felt immediately betrayed.

He nearly gave his oldest hyung the middle finger as well but he’d caught himself, hands now crossed in front of his chest as he turned his head the opposite way to where he had heard Chan from. A few members gasped, probably having seen Bae nearly go against Chan, something he rarely ever did.

“Oh my god, is the baby pouting?” - Jisung asked and Bae could already imagine the quokka excitedly hopping around with, like a kid in a candy store.

He didn’t get a chance to come up with a reaction as his only line of defence was abruptly torn off of his face, Felix’s wide grin greeting him. Wide eyes blinked at the sudden action, unable to do anything even as the sunshine menace confirmed Jisung’s question, loud cooing filling the air.

Bae wanted to really, really disappear into thin air at that point. If he could, he would have done so a long time ago.

As if his prayers were heard, Changbin came to his rescue, shooing everyone away. It didn’t help Bae nearly enough for his skin to regain its natural colour, but at the very least it didn’t worsen the situation either. He felt like he could breathe again, although the will to stand up or even move a limb hadn’t returned to his body yet. What if he would just fall down again? He didn’t dare know the answer.

“It’s one of those days, isn’t it?” - his dongsaeing knowingly asked, voice so soft it nearly made Bae tear up.

He could only nod at that, a small frown nestling itself onto his lips at the memories of not just today, but at all the other ‘clumsy days’, as the others had started to call them. They happened, albeit sparsely. Something always went wrong whenever those days emerged and they never failed to nearly ruin everyone’s day along with it. There hadn’t been a day where Bae didn’t feel riddled with guilt, as he wasn’t blind to how the others without fail took an extra step to look out for him in those times.

Changbin nodded back with a warm smile, hands moving and sliding under Bae’s back and knees. Before he could even open his mouth to protest he felt his world shift and there he was, lifted up and laying in Changbin’s steady arms.

“I’ll be right back, just putting our clumsy lil ice prince into his room!” - the dwaekki shouted, the others only shouting acknowledgements as if it was a regular occurrence.

Because it was.

This wasn’t the only time that Changbin had just taken Bae into his arms or onto his back, a dorky, happy lil smile curving up the short idol’s lips without an exception. And each time Bae was stunned into silence, knowing fully well that he wouldn’t be able to fight his way out of it. If Changbin made up his mind to do something, then he would do it no matter the cost.

“So about my reward for carrying you…” “No, Bin, you’re still not getting a kiss.” “Aw come on…”

[heartz4shauna]

shaunanat headcanons? 😋

warnings: erm none. all pre-crash headcanons i guess but it doesn’t make a difference

hello! so so sorry this took me so long to do i didn’t want to. anyway hope this is okay !! i wrote this whilst watching titanic in the corner of my screen so. heavily influenced probably

shauna who writes little love letters and poems for natalie when she has a free period.

natalie who, despite saying she doesn’t like that cheesy stuff, keeps the notes shauna gives her under her bed in a shoebox.

shauna who loves listening to nirvana. not because she likes the music, no no. but because she gets to see natalie bop her head to the beat and pretend to play guitar.

natalie who always asks shauna how she gets her hair so shiny. as natalie bleached her hair, she thinks her hair is fried and scratchy, whilst shauna has virgin hair and would never think about doing anything to it. shauna doesn’t mind natalie’s “fried” and “scratchy” hair. in fact, she loves playing with it, mainly because she thinks natalie’s hum of contentment is endearing.

shauna who loves sci-fi movies, especially ones like back to the future. she always drags natalie over to her house, “trust me. there’s this new one out, i’ve heard it’s really good.”

natalie who used to think science fiction was for nerds. once she got to watching a few, she actually began to like them and even bought some on vhs to watch at home. she prefers thrillers overall though.

shauna who doesn’t wear a whole lot of jewellery, she trusts a solid pair of earrings to hold her outfit together, maybe a dainty necklace if she’s feeling it. she loves to buy jewellery for nat, though.

natalie who has a huge collection of rings, earrings, necklaces, the things alike. she loves chunky necklaces and layering them, too. almost every special occasion, she’s gifted a new pair of earrings or ring from shauna. cheap ones, of course, but she loves them nonetheless.

shauna who is willing to get into a fist fight with any fucker who tries to talk shit about her or natalie.

natalie who reassures shauna that it’s not a big deal, she’s used to it. shauna can’t stand it though.

shauna who traces soft circles over natalie’s skin whilst she’s sleeping. she likes to watch over natalie as she sleeps, knowing that she’s safe next to her.

natalie who often pretends to be asleep, just so she can feel that soft, caring touch. she mostly pretends to sleep normally after a long day of practice; shauna’s soft hands such a great change from the roughness of the field.

shauna who is always the one to host their sleepovers, especially when things aren’t great at natalie’s. she sets up a blanket on the couch, popcorn and a movie for when natalie shows up at her door looking a little bit gloomy, pillow in hand.

natalie who feels guilty looking to stay at shauna’s almost every other night. she feels like she takes up too much room and doesn’t help out enough. truth is, shauna could never be happier, knowing that the girl she loves the most, finds comfort in her.

shauna who is not a morning person. she usually wakes up early, though. she’s always super groggy until it hits around 11am. she prefers the quiet and stillness of the night. once everyone has gone to bed and it’s just her and her blondie.

natalie who couldn’t agree more. she hates the busyness of the morning, the chaos of getting ready. she normally wakes up about 15 minutes before school starts, but she’s rarely tardy. she prefers the late night drives to the gas station, for whatever it may be, the loudness of tens of people talking at a party, she prefers that over arguing any day.

shauna who prefers dogs over cats. frankly because she thinks dogs are kinder than cats, more friendly and less stuck up.

natalie who prefers cats. she likes the poise and elegance of cats. the smoothness of the way they move and how little they shed.

shauna who collects vinyls.

natalie who collects cds.

shauna who prefers tea.

natalie who prefers coffee.

shauna who prefers going to a pool. she hates the feel of sand and prefers the closed-offness and privacy of a pool. she likes reading by the pool, without a bunch of kids kicking up sand as they run past her.

natalie who prefers going to the beach. she loves the patterns of seashells and skipping them into the water. she prefers the open-ness of the beach. she says, if she could, she would swim to the other side of the world.

shaunanat who are my babygirls and should have no bad things happen to them ever!!!

[artzee-bee]

Jealousy

Fandom: My babysitter's a vampire; Ethan Morgan x reader

Request: "basically, reader acts like she hates ethan because she thinks he has a big crush on Sarah, but eth hears her talking about him to Erica or smth??? I just think it would be sooo cute tysm"

Genre: fluff

Warnings: cussing

A/n: anyone wanna come up with titles for me? I'm done.

~~~

“Is she still staring at me?”

“Yep” Ethan went to adjust the hood of his hoodie again.

“Can you be any more obvious than that?” Benny remarks and Ethan’s hands go down slowly

“What’s her deal anyways? What did I even do wrong?”

“Why are you asking me? How would I know?”

“Hey guys!” a certain blonde boy appears , with a tray of food in hand

“Rory, sit down and eat your food!”

“Well someone’s in a bad mood today, damn Benny.”

Ethan is still staring down at his lunch. The mere thought of putting something in his mouth feels overwhelming. Anxiety runs through his body and he can’t stop his leg from shaking under the table. He’s trying not to make it obvious that he can feel your gaze on the back of his head from the other side of the room but that’s very difficult.

“What’s wrong with you E? What's wrong with everyone today?” Rory, the ever-so-oblivious, picked up on him acting weird. That’s definitely a bad sign.

“Y/n has been tearing him limb for limb with her eyes for the last 5 days and he has no idea why.” Benny answers

“Why?”

“...didn’t I just say…” and the normal banter starts again

Ethan does the same thing he’s been doing every night for the last 3 days: think. Think back to the day you stopped talking. Where was he? Well at school, it was monday. What did he do? Nothing unusual. Just classes and then lunch with the guys. He’s gone through his routine a dozen times by now, there was nothing to point out new and the more time passed, the more blurry his memories got.

The most frustrating part was how sudden it had all been. You two were so close, in fact you were the closest you had ever been. Ethan met you around 3 years ago now, when you joined their little friend group but in the past month, it was like you and him were growing so much closer within your own relationship. There was a lot more time spent between just the two of you, a lot more messages exchanged. Late night video game competitions and sometimes study sessions, although those would more than definitely turn into a regular hangout session with no work done. Ethan was enjoying how much more time you would spend at his house everyday and how happy you seemed to always be. He felt so comfortable with you. There was a sense of never having to worry about being anything other than himself, because he knew, without a doubt, that you liked him just as he was. He didn’t need to show off, and that was nice!

And then suddenly you’re not wishing him good morning when you walk past his locker. You take a seat at a different table in your shared classes. When Ethan approached you to see what’s up, you quickly made some lame excuse and got out of there, every time! You stopped replying to messages, let alone come over like you used to. At first he thought you were going through something and needed your space, so he tried to respect that. But the more time passed, the less ignored he felt and much more resented. The nasty glares, purposeful ignorance of him. You didn’t even make the effort to reply to him when he approached you at school anymore, instead walking right on ahead without eye contact. Now you were sitting at a different table for lunch, staring arrows at the back of his head. It was really aggravating how what he considered to be a nice, open and honest friendship was now turning into what felt like a rivalry. He didn’t like accepting it but your behavior was growing aggravating. It was getting on his nerves and even he could tolerate it any longer. He couldn’t stand the thought he did something wrong. He was perfectly innocent! None of the people he asked could think of something he did wrong. HE couldn’t think of something he did wrong. You were so absurd for this! You were so absurd in your behavior for no reason at all!!

The days passed on like that. One week turned into 2 and you still weren’t talking. In fact Ethan had resolved to send you his own nasty glances. When he catches you staring at him again, with the same aggravated frown, he simply raises his eyebrows in a challenge instead of pretending not to notice. It sure didn’t help mend things but he was exhausted of you. If you were looking for attention you’d have to find it elsewhere!

And things kept getting worse! Ethan was still upset and could not get over you. Could not go back to being his old, cheery self knowing you were mad at him. He tried to push his questioning thoughts away but sometimes they were just too much. One positive thing came out of that though: he created a mechanism. When he felt his head too heavy with thoughts, he would go out for a walk. It’s not anything he generally did, but it helped now and it was probably good for him to get some fresh air so it’s ok. That’s how he found himself hearing your laugh. At first he thought he was imagining but no, it was definitely you. Even tho he wasn’t sure where the noise was coming from, it was definitely you!

He tried following the sound, which led him down the street to a convenience store. He didn’t have to pass the corner of the building to know you would be there. He could now clearly hear you and Erica talking.

“It’s not my fault!” your annoyed voice was somehow comforting after so long of no contact

“Listen, I’m never gonna be the one to blame you. If anything, boys are always at fault!”

that got a laugh out of you. So sweet and innocent, it made Ethan feel weak. He knew he shouldn’t be listening into your private conversations but God, it was too interesting to back out now.

“Whatever. I mean he can like who he likes, it’s not my problem to deal with but also, I don’t wanna just sit on the sidelines and watch that happening. Gross!”

“Do you think she would say yes to him?”

“Erica I seriously don’t wanna think about it”

“I mean Sarah is way out of his league in the first place. And definitely uninterested. I mean could you actually imagine them together?”

“Ethan and Sarah? Yeah, I’ve done my fair share of imagining, thanks!”

This made E’s heart drop to his stomach. Him and Sarah? What the hell was this about? There was nothing going on between them. Yes, she was a pretty girl and he used to have a crush on her but that was a long while ago now. He’s swiftly moved on since she made it very clear that she was uninterested. Plus, the closer they got, the more he grew to understand that they would really not work, so it was all fine. So why were they the subject of conversation?

“Of all the girls in the world, you were the closest to him. Honestly, if he was gonna fall for someone, it should have been you!” and you scoff at this

“Well it wasn’t. I heard them talk. He’s into Sarah and all the guys are supportive of that. They are good friends and I wish them all the best but he made his decision and it was not me so I’m moving on in the only way I know how. Creating distance.” “Whatever you say girlie!” Erica’s voice seemed uninterested

Ethan left after that. He had heard too much. ```

He couldn’t find the courage to approach you about what he’d heard immediately after. A part of him was worried you would get mad for listening in on your conversations, the other part of him kept questioning what he’d heard and if it was really true. Did you want him to choose you? Because he will. He already has damn it, just didn’t have the courage to express it. Is that why you were so cold all of a sudden? Would this count as jealousy? He blushed anytime he thought about it. You were jealous because you wanted to be with him! How much luckier can a guy get?

At first he wanted to talk to Benny about it, get some advice but on second thought, decided not to. For a small second he considered asking his mom but quickly changed his mind. He had never really had ‘girl problems’ if you can even call it that, he wasn’t sure who to go to for advice. 

It took about a week for him to build up the courage to talk to you. He had pondered the idea back and forth basically every waking moment and was never sure what to do really. When he saw you waiting at the bus station one day after school, all alone and scrolling on his phone, he pushed back every thought and insecurity he felt and approached you, almost mechanically.

“Hey!” his voice cracked a little, giving away the nerves swirling in his head. You barely spared him a second of your time to look at him before going back to scrolling 

“How have you been?” he tried, admittedly lacking the old confidence he had around you

“Just peachy. You need something or what?”

“Just making conversation.”

“yeah…don’t really feel like it. Long day, y’know?” but when you caught his eye, the boredom was so clear in your eyes. It hurt him more to see you didn’t even care about hiding your distaste for him anymore

“Yep, got it.” Ethan laughed in response. All his courage, gone! Within seconds!! That irritated him so much. He had prepared for this. Went through every possible scenario, even tried acting out some speeches in his room in preparation and you still had him at your feet with a glance. He felt pathetic and for the first time ever, genuinely enraged by this whole situation. You used to be best fucking friends and look at you now! All within a matter of weeks and from a misunderstanding at that too!!! He knew how to fix this, he just had to say it so why couldn’t he? 

“I don’t even like Sarah like that…'' he snarled, under his breath and frankly it was a miracle that you heard him over the white noise of the busy town.

“Like shit you don’t.” 

That’s what you had to say? Of all fucking things that was your first reaction?!

“How would you even know how I feel?”

“Clear as day on your face and actions! I don’t need to be a mind reader to crack into that big head of yours!”

“You have no idea what you are even talking about! I act with her the same way I act with all my friends!” Ethan’s voice failed to hide the anger surging through his body. Now, as he faced you completely, head tall and fists clenched in frustration, you seemed just as uninterested. Your gaze didn’t shift from the cracked screen of your phone, shoulders hunched, totally disengaged. It just fueled E more.

“ You don’t even have a problem with Sarah!” he started again, throwing all logic to the wind and speaking whatever came to him “ You just hate that she’s a girl! You would have made this shit up regardless of who it was I got close to!”

Finally, your attention was on him!

“What the fuck makes you think I care enough for that?” you stood up, looking him in the eye

“You mean to tell me we’ve been friends for years with no problems but the second a new girl enters my life and I start spending time with her, you act all crazy and throw a fit? What am I supposed to make of that?” “This has nothing to do with Sarah to begin with! See? There you go making false assumptions again and acting all smart about them, like you actually did something!” “I’m not the one making unbased theories and running with them! You never even asked me about my feelings for Sarah! You just draw a conclusion yourself and then go complain about me to Erica, don’t you?” Anyone would have been able to see the dots connecting in your head at that time. You didn’t spend that much time with Erica anyways.

“You were there?”

“I was behind the corner of the store”

“You were hiding?! What the hell?”

“I wasn’t doing anything! I was out on a walk, I happened to hear your voice!” but his explanation gains him nothing but an irritated scoff. You go back to your phone, seemingly ready to ignore him again, but that just won’t be enough

“So now that all the cards are on the table, can we address the elephant in the room?”

“As I said, you like Sarah. It’s very clear. And that’s fine and you can do whatever you want!” your voice didn’t carry the same rage as before, much more mellow and distant. 

Detached.

“I liked Sarah! A long time ago. I don’t now!”

“Okay” said with absolute indifference. Ethan, couldn’t help a roll of the eyes

“You’re unbelievable!” “What do you honestly want me to do right now?!”

“Just say that you like me, if you do!” “I fucking like you Ethan! God damn, I’d think you’d be smart enough to piece it together yourself but clearly you’re just-”

The grasp Ethan had on the back of your head felt strangely powerful and as he pulled you into him, locking your lips together, you genuinely felt yourself considering if this was the same man you knew! Truth be told, Ethan thought about this moment forever! About kissing you, about confessing to you! When he heard your conversation with Erica however, perspectives changed. Now all his thoughts were clouded by you confessing to him, admitting that what his speculations were, in fact, true. He thought about what he would say, how he would react to receiving that confirmation. He practiced the soft smile he’d give you in return, the quiet but tender confession of his own feelings. One thing he never expected himself to do is to aggressively pull you by the back of your neck and kiss you powerfully. He never thought himself the kind to have enough confidence to just go in for such a shameless kiss, but in that moment he wanted nothing more than to just shut you up!

It took a little bit to register, to wrap your head around the sharp pull of your hair and the sloppy moves of his lips on yours. Every conceivable thought in your head told you to pull away, slap him, tell him to leave you alone but your body had a mind of its own and you found yourself tugging him closer by the collar. Your lips moved on his with just as much intensity and fervor as his! The build up of emotion, frustration, anger, all of it boiled down to this moment. Ethan’s hand sneaked around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer and finally, as if satisfied with this outcome, his grip on you loosened. His kisses turned progressively softer. The hand in your hair moved to cup your cheek and almost instinctively, you followed his lead, letting go of the tight grip you had on his shirt, resting your hand of his chest instead.

It felt like a real kiss. Like all the kisses you dreamed about every time you thought of him. You knew your cheeks were burning up and that now, after your anger had subsided, the reality of your situation, the confession, Ethan’s fingers pressing into the plush of your waist, all of it made you shy. When he finally pulled away, bruised lips and breathing heavily, you couldn’t look at him. All this time, you used your anger to cover for just how weak in the knees this man had you but now, somehow, even that had been stripped away.

“I…um..sorry about that! I...should have asked” Ethan was blushing just as much. He was starting to second guess his actions. He took 2 steps back, giving you room again, the feeling of your ragged breaths so close to his lips made his head spin

“It’s ok” you whispered. This was an unusual situation. In one move, all your cards had been turned upside down and now there was no point in even trying to deny the truth.

“So are we good?” Despite trying to sound confident, you could hear the edge of nervousness in Ethan’s voice. It’s the kind of knowledge that comes with many years spent together, and the thought makes you smile.

“Yeah. We’re good.” “Can we possibly be more than good?” Ethan’s chuckles, as if he already knows the answer, if the blush on your cheeks is anything to go by anyways. You giggle in return and nod.

[shady-tavern]

Preview for "The Magic of Consequences" the April Patreon Short Story

(warnings ahead for temporary, implied child death and implied abuse. Please take care of yourselves)

*.*.*

See, the thing about being a witch was that people had misconceptions about your profession. They thought you were busy cooking soup made of eyes and frog feet, or bottling the souls of whoever pissed you off to sell them to monsters and demons.

And sure, sometimes you handled disgusting ingredients – some made you whisper 'ew ew ew ew' under your breath the entire time. And sure, sometimes you made deals with unsavory, strange creatures. And, yeah, alright sometimes you did bottle souls, but you had never cut off a poor frog's feet. Or plucked out someone's eyes.

The sad part was, despite your best attempts to polish your reputation, people rarely sought you out for good reasons. You had made so many health tonics at the beginning of your career, excited to go around and make things a little better, only to be semi-gently reminded by reality that you should have gone and become a herbalist instead.

But herbalists had little to no magic and wasting your talent for the arcane had seemed stupid at the time. You hadn't had the money for the mage schools growing up and when a hedge witch had found you spelling apples to turn your bully's hair a bright, ugly color, you had found yourself with an impromptu teacher instead.

By now you were used to being sought out for less than savory deals, people appearing in your shop with hooded cloaks and shifty eyes and overly-obvious glances around for any witnesses. The utterly unimpressed face you greeted them with tended to make them even more shifty.

More often than not you managed to talk them down from their really, really dumb ideas – like desiring to love-potion-trap a prince in marriage or robbing a barony – but the rest of the time people were too intent on their dumb decisions.

Everything had consequences. You had written that in big, big bold letters on everything you sold. You pointed it out verbally as well every time someone bought an ill-advised potion or spell from you.

"Why did I become I witch," you groused to yourself as you bottled a potion that made flowers smell like rotting corpses and beer-farts, because some asshole two towns over knew he wouldn't win the flower presentation competition next week with honest, hard work. What a loser.

"Oh, I'll help people, I said," you grumbled, stuffing a cork into the bottle and almost making it spill in the process. "Oh, I'll make people happy, I said."

You set the bottle aside and started to clean the cauldron when you heard the bell of the front door jingle. "I'll be with you in a moment!"

After cleaning up and making a face at something squishy that squelched beneath your foot – some things liked to bubble over and this potion had just been an all-around headache – you walked to the front of your shop.

A very young woman, clearly a noble considering the stupidly fancy clothes and jewelry, was waiting for you, peering at some of the bottles for sale.

See, nobles were trouble. Nothing but trouble. If the farmer wanted to take revenge on his cheating wife, fine. If a bandit wanted to conjure a storm for his robbery, whatever. If a miner wanted to steal jewels from his employer unnoticed, it was none of your business. 

You could deny those people whatever you wanted or grant them whatever you wanted. At the end of the day, they were just normal people who were more or less stab-happy.

But nobles? Ugh. 

They had mages in their employ to deal with many problems, Astrologers who could tell their fortunes, treasurers who ensured they could afford nearly anything they wanted and there were other nobles they were allied with. In short, they had power and if they showed up at your doorstep it meant they wanted things that their already impressive collection of options couldn't grant them.

Which was curses.

"I hear you're quite the competent witch," the young noble said and you eyed her warily. She looked like she was barely eighteen, it wouldn't surprise you if her wedding was in, like, a month or something. 

Nobles always got married to someone, last you heard, which made many lads and lasses, no matter their station, sigh and day-dream about one day being chosen as a spouse, no matter how impossible that dream was in some cases.

What, did she want to ensure her future spouse wouldn't cheat? Or had she been spurned and turned away in favor of someone else and now she wanted to get rid of the competition before she had to officially cancel the wedding? It happened sometimes and people really loved to gossip when nobles chose a different partner than their intended.

"I guess," you said, barely keeping a sour tone in check. This young woman probably wanted nothing good from you. Great.

You really should stop stocking healing tonics. For some reason, people always thought they would turn them ugly or give them illnesses or crooked dicks. 

The young woman frowned. "You don't sound very sure about that." She then pressed her lips together. "But no matter, you are my last resort." 

She turned to face you fully, her fancy dress sweeping dramatically with the movement and she raised her chin, proud and confident and it could almost hide the anxious shine in her eyes. "I need a curse."

Outwardly you nodded sagely. Inwardly you sighed so dramatically and theatrically that you had to bite down on the urge to whine like a spoiled child. You didn't want to do curses. Curses fucking sucked. But who were you to deny a customer? Especially one with both the money and the ability to make your life either better or a living hell.

Because, surprise surprise, plenty of the ingredients you needed for potions or spells did not come cheap. No one had ever bothered to tell you that being a witch in general was not cheap in the slightest. All the stories about witches in walking huts or in cottages in the woods had really set you up for disappointment.

"What kind of curse?" you asked and then pointed at the sign hung right behind and above you. 'Everything has Consequences' was written in big, big letters by a really fancy hand. 

You had even paid a fairy to make it glitter a bit. People liked glittery stuff, right? So far the glitter certainly had made sure everyone read the signs, but that was it. At least, the ones that could read did.

The young woman read it quickly too, then focused on you with more determination. "I need a curse that turns a princess into a monster."

Oh. Uh. That was...well, you could do it, but... "That's a very hefty curse, with equally hefty consequences," you said cautiously. "Maybe there are other ways to get you what you want? Maybe a temporary transformation spell? Perhaps something to pretty you up to catch a prince's eye, not that you need it, of course."

You were not in the business of selling love potions, because ew. Same with those annoying sleeping-beauty potions that required the asleep one to be kissed awake. Look, you were an asshole and you had cursed a couple of people already, but you did draw the line at all that non-consensual love stuff.

Even witches needed to draw lines somewhere.

"No, I need a curse," the young woman said, with a voice firm enough to give mithril a run for its money. 

You considered saying no, before you remembered all the reasons why you shouldn't. If you refused her you'd probably have to escape her wrath, uproot your life and settle down elsewhere.

You were lazy, though, and you didn't want to do that unless it became necessary. Besides, every curse could be broken and you'd just give this curse a really easy way to get out of it. You did that for every curse you sold, because you weren't asshole enough to leave people stuck in some horrible reality for years on end.

"Do you want the monster to be sentient or not?" you asked. In case she didn't, you'd make sure the curse could be broken by, like, drinking water or something. 

The young woman blinked, then seemed to perk up, looking suddenly eager. "I can decide what the monster is?"

"If you're willing to pay more," you said with a shrug. You were a good witch and curses, for as little as you liked to cast them most of the time, had always been your best subject.

You threw your health tonics a forlorn look, noting the faint dust that had started to gather on the shelves around them and a bit on the bottles themselves.

"I'll pay you anything you want," the noble lady said, her eyes suddenly filled with a hopeful gleam and a smile appeared on her face for the first time. It made her look even younger and you realized just how grim she had been previously. Huh.

You leaned against the counter to be more comfortable and reached for a piece of paper and a quill to write down what she wanted. The young woman was downright grinning by the time she had the curse tailored to her every whim.

"Wait here," you said, studying the list of demands as you ducked into the backroom. Thankfully, you had bought a couple of rare ingredients just a couple of days ago, so you managed to cobble together what you needed for the spell.

Fairy wings – not plucked, because again, you weren't that kind of asshole and a number of fairies had to molt their wings a number of times as they grew and some even every spring - wolf teeth and a griffin feather.

You carried everything out, the young woman watching curiously as you ground the teeth and wings to fine dust which you then rubbed thoroughly onto the feather. All that was left was the transformation spell that would complete the curse.

Dark magic flowed through you easily enough, the wood around you graying and the very air itself growing cold and hungry, like a drooling beast was gnashing its teeth, bright eyes focused on the tooth-and-fairy-wing-dusted feather. 

Once the spell was completed, your surroundings returning to normal, you put the feather into a silk bag and handed it over.

"Put it under the pillow of the one you want to curse, they must sleep on it for six hours straight," you told the young woman. "And remember, consequences."

The young woman clearly wasn't listening anymore, accepting the bag while she absentmindedly set down a pouch of coin. You started to count out the gold you'd need, since she had brought more than enough, when you heard the bell and the door closing.

Looking up, the young woman was gone.

Huh. Well, you weren't going to say no to all that extra money. You scooped everything up and dropped it off in a spelled chest to protect your most precious possessions from sticky fingers. That taken care of, you returned to cleaning up the backroom, especially the squishy smear on the ground.

A couple of days later you heard of the terrible curse that had befallen the kingdom's princess and how the wedding between her and some kind of far-away prince was off the table for the time being.

The thing with your curses was, the cursed one instinctively knew the cure the moment they got cursed. You ensured that, to give them the chance to go and fix the problem themselves. None of that 'someone must fall in love with you' nonsense. This particular curse could be fixed by seeking the nearest doorway, doing a little chicken-dance and clapping trice afterwards and et voilá, the curse was gone.

Easy-peasy. The princess should be back to her old self in no time.

You quickly got distracted by some asshole teenagers that wanted to buy itching-powder to prank someone and just as they left with a vial of the stuff in tow, a little boy hurried inside with tears on his face. He put down three copper, looking very, very scared and asked in a wavering voice if you could fix his dog, holding up a tiny and very weak puppy.

It was the first time someone had asked you for that kind of help. To heal. You grabbed harpy feather and reached out to rest your fingertips on the tiny puppy's tiny, feverishly hot head and the light magic spell you used felt like a warm embrace. As though someone powerful was wrapping their arms around you and the boy and the puppy with endless kindness and soft reassurance.

It was the most beautiful spell you had ever gotten to perform and the moment you were done, the feather turned to dust in your fingers, the puppy opened its eyes. It wagged its tiny little tail like mad and when the boy broke out into tears, it licked the tears away.

"Thank you," he sobbed and you gave the boy's head a few pats, resisting the urge to tear up yourself.

"Of course," you said, pretending like you weren't touched and glad and emotional. There was just so much dust in this stupid shop. That was all.

You gave him back the copper, telling him that he got the spell for free if he promised to take great care of the dog and to bring it to you if something bad happened to it again.

The little boy grinned, so relieved and happy you swore he was the reason sun shone through the window in that moment, before leaving with his puppy who looked perky and awake again.

You puttered around, restocking some things and you set the health tonics up by the counter, hoping that maybe now someone would buy them. 

When, a couple of days later, a merchant asked for a spell that turned all his copper to gold, you heavily considered getting 'consequences' embroidered on your clothes as well. But he really wanted the spell so you gave it to him and of course he didn't want to buy a health tonic.

You were sulking on your counter when the door opened and a very fancy young man entered. You resisted the urge to groan like a blacksmith's bellows. A noble, again. Nothing but trouble.

"Good witch," he said with a small bow, the fancy feathers on his fancy hat bouncing perkily. "May I trouble you for a curse?"

You waved grandly at the sign behind you. "You may. Please read the fine print." The very big, very bold fine print.

He did, nodding solemnly. "I hear you offer curses that turn people into monsters?"

He must be a friend of that young lady. Lovely. Now that you thought about it, you hadn't heard anything else about the princess. Was her wedding off the table for good? Surely not, she had to have broken her curse by now. 

Or had that noble lady pounced on the far-away prince instead and there would be a wedding announcement once a proper amount of time had passed to avoid rumors from spreading? Maybe the princess would go and marry another prince. Well, it was none of your business.

*.*.*

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Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I hope you have a wonderful day, lots of love to you all!

[s-che]

“you are a good nurse” (knives out and great men)

***(this is extremely spoilery for both knives out and glass onion. read with caution)***

In quarantine, in a smaller apartment than you might expect, Benoit Blanc is playing Among Us. This is a game—like Clue—which the celebrity detective hates. It’s too simple, too obvious, and too easy to resolve. Although he holds himself to be better than these “stupid things,” they are also a weakness—later, we will be told that he nearly failed to solve a case because it was too simple all along. For now, the gentleman sleuth is doing poorly in isolation, suffering from an all-consuming boredom which descends between cases (a trait he shares with his literary antecedents in Hercule Poirot and Sherlock Holmes). This is, all in all, a tremendous reintroduction to Blanc, the detective who, in 2019’s Knives Out, solved the murder of James PattersoHarlan Thrombey and who—in 2022’s Glass Onion—will attend a murder-mystery themed weekend getaway of the innermost circle of tech billionaire Elon MusMiles Bron. Blanc shares DNA with the classic sleuths—but he is both more and less of a hero than they were. Much of that has to do with the communities he finds himself in. Murder mysteries have always run on high-energy casts of colorful characters—most especially in the works of Agatha Christie, whose Mousetrap, Murder on the Orient Express, and And Then There Were None feel like important steps on the road to Knives Out. Working with big tropes and cliches makes sense in a genre which is, in many ways, about developing and subverting reader expectations, and the two Knives Out films certainly build on that mold, establishing a set of stock characters drawn from the here and the now. Whether we’re dealing with a wealthy college student who sets her political beliefs aside to bow to the demands of her family (Katherine Langford as Meg Thrombey, Knives Out) or an internet micro-influencer about to explode into the mainstream screaming about the downfall of western masculinity (Dave Bautista as Duke Cody, Glass Onion), the supporting casts of both Benoit Blanc murder-flicks are fresh tropes for a fresh culture. They’re also—critically—all drawn from a particular world. Children of wealthy families, publishing executives, influencers, lifestyle models—these are people given a huge privilege, not only in the quality of their lifestyles but in the degree of their control over the direction of their lives. Although Knives Out and Glass Onion both  depict circles dependent on the charity of individual, powerful men—Harlan Thrombey and Miles Bron, respectively—they are also circles made up of people who society grants decision-making power, imbuing them with the belief that they are the protagonists of life granted the god-given right to personhood in contrast to those in sidelined roles—the help, medical staff, and “Derol.” The heroes of both films, however, are the odd ones out. They are neither the suspects (the colorful ensembles of those who “could have done it”) nor the celebrity sleuth himself (on whom everyone depends to solve the mystery and straighten things out), but rather those who are pushed to the side—assumed to be objects, not actors. Marta and Helen are the Watsons of both movies—the characters through whom we view the story, whose experiences frame and color our own (Helen takes on this role predominantly in the second half of the movie, once her true identity has been revealed to the audience). Unlike Holmes’s Watson or Poirot’s Arthur Hastings, however, these two characters are not neutral “straight characters” but individuals who suffer an active isolation, people who—however “normal” they might be in comparison to the cast—are marginalized and assumed to occupy a passive space. This positioning impacts their perspective, skewing things for viewers, reminding us that there is no apolitical way to view these events—and not to normalize the antics of the elite. In both cases—as Marta is Harlan’s long-term nurse and Helen is dedicated to seeking justice for her sister—they are presumed to, and in many cases do, act without ego, functioning solely as objects and in the ecosystem which surrounds the powerful decision makers (Harlan Thrombey and Miles Bron) and support systems on which the protagonists of life can lean. Although the films work to counteract this assumption—reminding us of the fundamental personhood of both Helen and Marta—it is also partially through their dedication to serving others that both Helen and Marta succeed. Blanc puts this clearly in Knives Out when he reveals that he knew Marta was involved in the murder from the start: “I want you to remember something very important:” he says “You won not by playing the game Harlan's way, but yours.” The heroes of these films do not succeed by using their invisible status to their advantage in playing “the game Harlan’s way,” getting one up on everybody by being the cleverest person in the room. Rather, they succeed by staying true to their values and doing what they know is right—even if that means sacrificing themself to the cause of another because it is right. For Marta this is attempting to save Fran—for Helen it is running out of clever ways to seek justice for her sister, and setting fire to theb building instead. By working against their own self-interest in the “game” or “puzzle” of a murder mystery, both Helen and Marta defeat their antagonists. In Knives Out, the Thrombey family spends much of their time bickering over who really deserves to inherit Harlan’s legacy—and the film is clear that none of them can truly claim to have built success themselves, as each was granted the privilege and security of their family’s wealth. None are truly as independent—we might say, “protagonal” —as they believe. Glass Onion takes this a step further, attacking the “source” of the cycle of  wealth. While Harlan Thrombey seems to have been a generally good man, a skilled storyteller, and a strong judge of character—it was his decision to reward Marta, and not his kin, with the inheritance—Glass Onion’s counterpart in Miles Bron is explicitly framed as lacking substance (being a “Glass Onion,” which appears deep but is in fact easy to see through) and having simply been in the right place in the right time to steal someone else’s work. There is no “self-made man” or “good billionaire” in Glass Onion—only people who were lucky enough to be given the opportunity to step on someone else on their way up the ladder. This developed critique of “great men” plays directly into the events of Glass Onion’s climax. Unlike Knives Out, where the police are presented as broadly interested in justice and glad to work alongside Blanc although their investigation has already ended, Glass Onion demonstrates explicitly how systems of power—the courts and the police, but also social dynamics and community pressures—can be bent to the defense of those assumed to be powerful decision makers (like Miles Bron or Ransom Thrombey). There were allusions to this in Knives—where Ransom claims that Benoit solving the murder means nothing, since he has good lawyers and will avoid a significant sentence—but they are eventually unsubstantial, as Marta tricks Ransom into confessing in front of two officers and he is arrested as a result. When, in Glass Onion, when the only evidence to Bron’s crime is burned, Blanc himself seems to surrender, claiming that “This is where my jurisdiction ends” before leaving the room (though not before handing Helen the physical and emotional material she needs to literally burn Miles Bron’s island home to the ground). Although Helen eventually manages to set fire to the Mona Lisa—defeating Bron by ruining his public image, not through criminal prosecution—this does not seem to be her intention when she begins destroying the mansion. In this, Glass Onion seems to develop a second critique of Knives Out—not only do we come to question the validity of the narrative of “good” billionaires, we are shown that, faced with hostile powers insulating  themselves within systems of law and order, the only path to justice may be working outside the law and our basic (i.e. carceral) assumptions of what “justice” is. As the emergency  services arrive to pick up a body, Benoit sits on the beach, smoking a cigar. His hands are clean, and he has inspired Helen to the heroic action that she must take. He is as smart as any Holmes, but he did not do his part in this adventure in the way Holmes would, by playing the game, solving the puzzle, and handing things over to the police. Rather, Benoit has himself taken on a supportive role—supportive to Helen, who has, in turn, taken action and found justice for her sister. He understands the limits of his jurisdiction—in other words, he knows when it is actually his turn to be the protagonist, and when it is his role to inspire others. In a world full of people who claim to have risen to power by their skill and focus, Blanc actually has remarkable skill—but he uses them, ultimately, to ends of uplifting the meek, not simply restoration of order.

[blushweddinggowns]

“Just hold still…and done!” Nancy grinned as she capped the eyeliner. She brushed a lock of hair out of his face before declaring, “You’re officially stage-ready.”

Eddie turned to look at himself in the mirror, instantly pleased with what he saw. Steve always said that his big-ass Bambi eyes were his best feature, and the eyeliner really was making them pop. Add that with the tight jeans, the leather jacket, and the combat boots, and Eddie actually looked like he belonged on a stage. 

He looked good, but he only cared so much about his own thoughts, “You think Steve will like it?”

Nancy rolled her eyes, “Like you have to ask. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t have a heart attack.”

Eddie grinned at that. He could only hope that his reaction would be that good, “And it will last all night?”

“At least for 12 hours,” She reassured, “I used the good stuff. This eyeliner lasted on my mom for a fifteen-hour plane ride once, with layovers. You’re ready.”

Eddie nodded. That was basically equivalent to spending a wild night with Steve, the odds were in his favor. He reached over to give Nancy a one-armed hug, taking the time to hover for a second before she gave him a subtle nod. 

“God, you’re such a lifesaver,” Eddie sighed as he squeezed her to his side, “You sure you don’t want to come?”

Nancy snorted, “Are you kidding me? My dad would ground me for the next five years if I got caught. And you know I love you guys but I can barely deal with Steve gushing over you on a normal day, let alone one where you actually look hot.”

“Awwww, you think I’m hot?” Eddie cooed, laughing at the way it made her cringe.

She was already gathering everything back up into her makeup bag, trying and failing to hide her little smile, “Don’t push it.”

But he did, of course he did, the whole way back to the Wheeler house, earning himself a sharp pinch to his arm more than once. He dropped her off at home, promising that they would call her first thing in the morning to say how it went. Then he picked up his boys and the four of them were off, all of them excited out of their minds. 

Eddie had never imagined that he would be playing on a real stage, in a real city. It had been a silly little radio contest for a charity event, first five callers got the privilege to audition to be a one-time opener for Metallica, a band that Eddie adored but the rest of the world hadn’t seemed to have caught on to yet. It was a one-time thing, paired with some great luck for the station to catch them for a single night before their next album release. But still, it was a big deal, especially for people like them that had less than zero connections. Steve was the one who insisted that they call in. Eddie had just never thought that they would have actually won. 

But they had, and the prize was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet a band that Eddie just knew was going to be huge one day. Plus, free hotel rooms for the weekend? What more could a guy ask for? 

It was a fun drive, of course it was. You couldn’t get Eddie, Freak, Gareth, and Jeff in a room together without it being a blast. The only problem was that he already missed Steve. Which was, admittedly, stupid as fuck considering that he’d see him in a matter of hours. He just hated that he had to sneak out for this. Or more aptly, he hated that his parents forced him to sneak out for this. But they had a good plan here. 

He’d lie and say he was going to bed early to prepare some bullshit elaborate date for Nancy, one that would involve him being gone for all of Saturday. He’d sneak out his window by seven, drive the two hours to be there just in time for the curtains opening at nine-thirty. Then they’d spend the night together like they had been every night for years, his parents none the wiser.

The shitheads. 

Saturday night and Sunday would be a little trickier, but Steve was coasting off the fact that his parents usually forgot to say goodbye when they left for a trip. They had a red-eye flight at 3 am, and Nancy was already prepped to make a fake phone call to ask if he could stay for dinner Saturday. With any luck, they would forget about him entirely, both of them too tired to think about the fact that they wouldn't have seen their son for nearly two days. The last bit was more of a gamble, but Steve wasn’t about to let his parents' wrath ruin his shot at a romantic and paid-for weekend with his boyfriend. Besides, when it came to Nancy, his mom basically never questioned anything. Hell, she was basically on the edge of planning their fucking wedding at this point, beyond ecstatic that Steve had finally gotten himself a permanent girlfriend. 

God, that girl really was a lifesaver. Eddie was almost surprised at just how much he liked her, and not even because she was beyond useful when it came to hiding their relationship. She was just…kind of cool? He didn’t know how else to describe it, but her whole gun-toting, no-nonsense, and slightly bitchy persona was really doing it for him. Honestly, on a bad day, Eddie was slightly afraid of her, but he kind of liked that too. The fact that she could go from scarily intense to sarcastically hilarious just equated to a winning personality in his book. And that wasn’t even counting how happy she made Steve, and vice versa. 

Sometimes he’d wander into the room that they were supposed to be studying in, only to find the two of them completely off the rails either talking about their shared passion for musicals, high school gossip, or more often than not, Steve Harrington approved seduction methods for her to try out on Jonathan Beyers. Or Tom Cruise, depending on the timing. 

They wouldn’t even notice that he walked in most of the time, too caught up in laughing with each other. Maybe it was weird, but sometimes Eddie would just watch them for a minute. Steve would be all giggly and smiling and adorable, and it just made Eddie feel warm. Hell, even seeing Nancy happy was enough to make him smile most days, the girl deserved it after everything she’d been through last year. She was a good person and a good friend. And Eddie was going to get her so many corny Indy souvenirs for covering their asses tonight. 

They were all nervous as hell when they finally got there, but actually getting to meet the band while they were setting up went surprisingly well. Though that mostly had to do with the fact that they had prepared for it. They had a fool-proof system of aggressively stepping on each other’s feet when one got a bit too fangirly. And though it left all four with some bruises, it did manage to stop Gareth from telling James Hetfield that he would totally marry him if he was a chick. They made a good impression, Eddie was pretty damn sure of it considering they offered free tickets for their next tour. 

It was fun, even if he was still nervous as all hell when it was their time to play. He had never felt this anxious walking out on stage before. Maybe that had to do with the fact that it was a real stage, but still. He wasn’t the type to be nervous about performing at all, whether that be at the Hideout or hopping on lunch tables for an impassioned speech. 

He swallowed as he looked out into the crowd, heart pounding in his chest as he realized just how many people were there. It was a far cry from the Hideout where they would be lucky to get ten people to actually notice when they were finished. But this had to be a hundred plus. Eddie’s eyes zeroed into the front row, scanning it for the one thing that could calm him down. It didn’t take long to spot him. 

There he was, smack dab in the middle of the row, completely out of place with his adorable pink polo. He was leaning against the railing, hearts in his eyes as he waved up at him. Eddie grinned, his nerves disappearing the second Steve blew him a kiss. Just the sight of him was enough to bring Eddie back down to earth.

He stepped up to the mic, guitar in hand, and started to sing.

Excerpt from chapter 14 of this fic

[chaoticorganizedmess]

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Killer Queen💀

Shigaraki Tomura/Shimura Tenko x F. Reader

You have a crush on a certain Super Villain and he's the only one to make you feel a certain way.

Warnings: Smut ahead💋👇🏻; Autassassinophilia kink; Oral(Giving); Degradation; Praising; Choking; Barebacking; Creampie [18+ | NSFW]

Autassassinophilia: a paraphilia in which an individual is sexually aroused by the risk of being killed.

"Murder is born of love, and love attains the greatest intensity in murder." - Octave Mirbeau

It takes some goading to Giran before he finally relents and gives you a "see what I can do" answer. That's better than him blowing you off anyways. It isn't all to preserve his reputation, believe it or not. You're trying to get close to things you shouldn't be anywhere near. Sure, you're used to working with "bad guys", but this one in particular tends to take the cake.

You're Giran's assistant. While he acted aloof around you, as he did with most people, he actually gave a bit of a damn about you. He'd known you since you were a kid. The daughter of a guy he'd grown up with. He groomed you for the broker business. While you never made the deals, he was the face of the business after all, you helped him procure things that were requested of him. Be that items or people.

He'd give you the details and you'd fetch whatever the customer was looking for. You'd also keep an eye out for anything that may benefit Giran in the long run. You were always in the background, but you loved the life. No matter how glamorous it tended not to be. You were even the one who found Toga. Well, she found you technically. Though you never went to all the meets, especially when it came to the League of Villains, everyone knew you worked with Giran.

He'd never bring you along to those dealings if he had his way. Giran knew that would become harder to do once you knew of the existence of Shigaraki Tomura, however. Even with Kurogiri present Giran knew that Shigaraki was unpredictable and wouldn't risk having you in his sights. A seasoned vet like him even bolted as soon as he got payment.

You knew your luck was changing the night Giran got the call. It sounded like a regular one, Giran responding with "yeah" and "uh huh" now and then. Suddenly he sat up straighter, much more tense than before. Finally, he ended the call with "Alright. I'll let her know. Thanks." Your head snapped to him and you watched intently as he hung up. He sighed and immediately pulled out a new smoke. "Well?!", you commented with unbridled excitement.

"That was Kurogiri." Your eyes widened. Your giddy feelings dialed down a bit, knowing that you might be turned down. Giran took another drag before continuing. "Says he had to clear it wit' the big guy in charge first, but ya can head over tomorrow night. Apparently the League has a few days off to lay low for a bit."

You briefly wonder what the All For One thinks about you wanting to visit with Shigaraki, but he must think it's something alright for the villain. Those thoughts don't last too long with your excited nerves already building. "Thank you!", you squeal as you leap over to Giran and pull him in close for a hug and kiss his cheek. "Yeah, yeah.", he sighs but you can see the workings of a small smile on his lips. "Don't say I don' do nothin' for ya."

The time finally comes despite it seeming like the hours ticked by slower than normal. You know it's just your excitement building, but it was torture none the less. You park down the street and take a few deep breaths to ease your nerves. Before you get out of your car you notice a few figures walk out of the very bar you intend on walking into. You recognize them as League members, and you figure they've been let go for the night to enjoy the free time you were told about. Some leaving together, like Toga and Twice; others heading out alone, namely Dabi.

You exit the vehicle and head over to the bar door. You steel your nerves and find whatever confidence you can to not seem so anxious. When you step inside it's pretty much what you were expecting. Nothing to write home about. A man with black smoke where his head would be turns and focuses his yellow eyes your way. You can only assume that's Kurogiri.

The very man you came to see sat quietly at the bar facing him. You notice a few newspapers laying around the bar top nearby, as well as a glass of amber liquid. You can't help but stare at the slender figure of the guy you've come to have a crush on. "You must be the young lady Giran called about." You nod as you take a few timid steps closer to the pair. "Yeah, that's me."

"This is Shigaraki Tomura.", he says as he extends his hand to point him out even though he's the only other person in the room. You give your name and wait for Shigaraki to acknowledge you. That turns out to be a number of excruciating minutes later. It's when Kurogiri clears his throat and lowly tells him "Don't be rude." Finally, Shigaraki sighs as if he's being burdened and turns his head in your direction.

He sits up a little straighter after taking in your appearance. He still has Father over his face, but he actually removes the hand to get a better look of you. You notice his ruby gaze move over your form, but he doesn't make any expression that shows he's impressed. However that turns out to be just the case. He is impressed.

You're infinitely cuter than he expected.

After staring at you for a few moments you finally hear him speak. "Giran said you like video games." His voice is higher pitched and raspy, but you can't help but find it cute regardless. "Yeah, I do.", you reply happily. You internally facepalm at your reaction. You must seem like a lame fangirl. It is almost too hard for him to take your bright eyes and girly admiration that's clear on your face. Almost.

"Well...Wanna play?" You nod your head emphatically and watch him rise to his feet. He places Father on the bar top for Kurogiri to look after. He eyes you one more time before turning to walk in the direction of a doorway towards the back. He doesn't say anything as he goes, simply waves you along after he starts walking. "Come on, little girl." Though you're elated he's willing to hang out with you, you narrow your eyes as you hurry to follow after him.

Shigaraki walks through the doorway and turns to head up a narrow set of stairs. "I'm not a little girl.", you chide him and he turns to glance back at you. He's almost appalled at the fact you're challenging him but can't seem to help find it endearing. He's not sure yet if he likes that you're growing on him after just meeting you.

Shigaraki simply replies with "whatever" as he turns back and continues up the stairs. He leads you to a room at the end of a bleak hallway. It's pretty bare: nothing on the walls, a single twin bed with crumpled white sheets, a closet and door that was ajar enough to show a small bathroom. One corner stood out as noticeably different than the rest.

There was a small flat screen television that's hooked up to a state-of-the-art gaming system. A few quality controllers sit next to it, and a nice, comfortable gaming chair topped off the area. "Woww.", you whisper in a hushed breath. Shigaraki takes in your impressed expression and feels the swelling of pride begin in his chest. Right where his heart would be to be exact. He wasn't even sure he could feel things in that part of his body anymore.

He points towards a plethora of games stacked in piles nearby. You find the collection he has both extensive and impressive. "Kurogiri said I should let you pick first. Something about being the guest." You nod and look over the titles. "How 'bout we start with this one?", you question as you pull the case out of a stack to show him the cover.

It's an older game. A first-person shooter zombie killing game to be specific. To his own surprise he's genuinely pleased with the selection you choose. It's 'an oldie but a goodie'. Definitely a classic that just so happens to be one of his favorites. He just nods and instructs you to set it up. You think about how he must be used to ordering people around as you work. Somehow only finding it more attractive of him.

Shigaraki goes over to a mini fridge and pulls out two sodas. He's once again confused when he comes back over and asks if what he pulled out for you is alright. Why does he even care? You accept the offered drink and finish setting everything up. Of course he takes the gaming chair after sliding a worn-out bean bag chair over for you to sit in. Naturally. It doesn't bother you, though. The two of you then begin a campaign that grows in intensity as time goes by.

You end up playing together longer than either of you expect. He loves how enthralled in the game you become, and you just so happen to be better than he even anticipated. He watches you out of the corner of his eye during the gameplay. You're certainly funny and make even cuter faces the more you get into it, especially when you're concentrating.

He doesn't seem to notice you doing the same as you take the opportunity to watch him in your peripherals. You already know he's cute, so you take notice of his hands. He grips the controllers with a pinky on each hand raised. It amazes you how much of an expert he is in doing so. It doesn't even seem to bother him in the slightest.

After yet another playthrough he sets down his controller and stretches his arms over his head. You do the same as you rise up off the bean bag. Afterward he pulls out his cellphone and you watch as he seemingly types out a text. "Do you drink?" The question catches you by surprise and you mumble out a quick reply with "Uh, yeah, I do."

His phone is already away when a minute later there's a single knock at his door before it's pushed open to reveal Kurogiri. He steps into the room and puts a tray down on the end table beside the bed that has a bottle and two empty glasses resting on it. He straightens up after filling the small glasses and he looks over to you two. "I do hope things are going well." You feel your face heat up slightly but nod still. "Yeah, fine.", Shigaraki says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Kurogiri takes that as his que to leave and nods before walking out. Leaving the pair of you alone once more. Shigaraki suddenly finds himself nervous and begins scratching his neck. That's when he realized that it was the first time he's done so since coming into his room and playing with you. Why were you able to do that to him?

Shigaraki doesn't allow the atmosphere to become awkward. He isn't sure what to say so he goes over to pick up one of the drinks Kurogiri poured. He only takes a sip or two before he sees you looking at him and he waves you over to join him. You make your way next to him and pick up your own glass. His eyes widen as the liquid seems to slide down your throat with ease.

After taking a gulp you place your nearly empty glass back down. You watch as Shigaraki keeps his own gaze locked onto yours. He brings the edge of his glass up to his lips, never breaking eye contact, and takes a larger gulp just as you had. You found yourself getting lost in his crimson eyes. Before you could register what you were doing and stop yourself you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him.

Shigaraki immediately froze at your actions. He gasped and you were able to slide your tongue inside his mouth to engage with his own. He was clumsy with it. Clearly evident that he was inexperienced. You cracked open your lidded eyes slightly to see him staring down at you wide eyed. Still in shock you mused to yourself.

With your eyes closed once more you felt him tilt down to the side and heard the click of his glass being put down. That's when you felt it. His hands tentatively placed on your hips. After a few moments their grip gets a bit tighter before you feel him smooth them around your back to pull you impossibly closer to him. Even with his hands behind you, you could feel his four fingers of each hand.

When you finally part for breath, he doesn't take long before he's chasing your lips for another kiss. After a hearty make out session you sense him start to lower himself onto his bed. You stop kissing and look down when you hear the familiar clicking of a belt buckle. Shigaraki lets out a low chuckle with a dark look in his eye. "Why don' you be a good little slut 'n suck my cock. I'd like that, 'n I jus' know you'd like it too."

Your hot core instantly throbs at his words, and you grind your thighs together before you lower yourself to your knees. He's right, after all. You slide his pants and boxers down in one go. His legs are slim but toned. It's obvious he's strong, but unassuming looking. You think about how Heroes could underestimate him and come to find they're sorely mistaken.

When his cock springs free into your face your mouth waters. It's long and slim, like him, but curved just right. You gingerly take him in your hand and give him a few preliminary pumps to test his reaction. As soon as you take him in your hand it's obvious he tenses and give the subtlest jerk of his hips. He's already panting in anticipation and you've hardly started. You can't wait to see how else he'll react.

You give him a moment to gather himself. That's when you go for it and lick up his long shaft before pecking his tip and gathering the bead of pre that was present there on your lips. You hear the hiss he lets out as he sucks in a breath through his teeth at your initial motions. You watch him, keeping his ruby eyes locked with yours, as you sink down and wrap your mouth around him as low as you can at first. It's not balls deep quite yet, but you'll get there.

You bob up and down, sucking him off for the first few minutes. Then you bring yourself down as low as you can to get him as far back into your throat as possible. You're still looking up at Shigaraki as you watch his head throw back in ecstasy. Then you feel him grip hold of your hair at the top of your head. He's got a fistful as he pumps your head up and down to throat fuck you.

You picture it in your head with your eyes closed at first. The slight sheen of sweat beginning to gather along his forehead. His eyebrows narrowed in concentration. The clump of hair he's gripping onto with a raised pinky. One wrong move of him lowering the digit, especially while he's distracted like this, means the end for you. Painfully.

That's the thought that makes your pussy wet to the point it could pool on the floor underneath you.

He's doesn't lower it, though. Even with his mind fogged with lust and concentrating on not finishing in your soft, wet mouth too soon. He's grunting so much you could tell he's close, especially by the twitch of his cock in your mouth. Suddenly he's squeezing your shoulders and when you stop and look at him he's slowly pulling you off him. You're about to ask if he needed you to do something different, or stop all together (to your dismay), but he simply tries to catch his breath before speaking. "T-take off your clothes. Then you're going to stand up 'n bend over the edge of the bed when I tell ya."

You let out a mewl at his instructions and obediently rise to your feet. That has the spark of life going right to his cock, keeping him ready and twitching without your sweet mouth satisfying him. You really are his little obedient slut, aren't you? He couldn't be more satisfied with the decision to allow you two to meet. If it's half as satisfying to fuck into your heat as it was your mouth, he's going to have a harder time concentrating on anything else important.

Shigaraki swallows hard when he sees your naked form, timid and shy before him. He doesn't know where to look first. He figures he'll start with your beautiful face and work his way down your sexy body. He runs his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. His cock twitches yet again the way your eyes are shining with elation at him and how it's clear you're waiting for his next command.

"Good girl.", he coos as he takes one finger and tugs a strand of loose hair behind your ear. You hum in response and wait for him to continue. To tell you what you should do next. "Go on 'n bend over now. I want your ass on display." You nod and obey as you get right into position and Shigaraki resists the urge to groan at how good you're being for him.

Once you're bent over, resting on his bed with your forearms and your ass up, you wait to see what's going to happen next. You jolt when you feel him swipe a finger up through your folds and gather some of your slick. Since he's behind you, the only evidence of what he did next was the hum of delight and the pop when he pulled his finger from his mouth.

"You taste real good, Player Two." That had another mewl coming from you and the grinding of your thighs at his words. Your heart was beating rapidly and you're sure if you opened your chest up it'd go soaring. He actually thought of you as his "player two". Suddenly he was groping handfuls of your asscheeks. When he slowly, almost reluctantly, pulled his hands away you jolted again when you felt one of his hands fly down to swat your ass.

The moan that came flying out of your mouth would've been impossible to repress. Shigaraki let out a dark chuckle as he leaned closer to your ear. "You're still lovin' this, huh?", he questioned with a teasing tone. Out of nowhere, another spank. This time of the other cheek. Afterward, he smoothed his hands over the reddening area.

You could hear him chortle as he did so. "I noticed you were lookin' at my hands." His voice was more hushed now yet still raspy. "You get off on the fact that it's so dangerous to be around me." Another slap on your ass. "Spanking is jus' as dangerous. One wrong move. Just one time I come down too hard and that pinky could fall. You love that, huh?"

Another spank, followed by a loud, unholy moan from you. He was right, you already knew that. Shigaraki could kill you on any one of the swings he does. His index and middle fingers slid down to run through your soaked folds. "I knew it. You're a danger slut. Aren'cha?" Suddenly he gripped the back of your hair and pulled you up to stand in front of him with your back against his chest as he kisses your neck.

"I knew you were special. Master said I'd have a playmate, but I didn't believe him. I should've known he'd make sure I'd have a sweet thing like you."

He turned your head to the side so he could vigorously kiss your mouth. When a few seconds were up he roughly pushed you down onto his bed. You look back at him and see that he's working his hard length once again. "Lay on your back. 'M gonna fuck you now." You crawl up his bed and flop onto your side before rolling over onto your back. Your legs still rubbing together for some friction.

Suddenly you see him standing at the edge on the side of his bed. He's scratching his neck and it's obvious he's trying to say something, or at least convey something important. Finally, he speaks when he lowly states that, "I-I don't have a c-condom." His cheeks are red with embarrassment that spreads to the tips of his ears and down his neck.

You simply hum in understanding before you lean up and cup his face to reply to him. "That's okay.", you comment in a sincere tone. "You don't have to worry about anything. Just finish whenever you feel like you're ready." He eyes you for a moment and allows you to pull him in for a short but sweet kiss. He nods this time and crawls over your body to lay over you.

Shigaraki sits back on his knees and watches as he runs the tip of his cock through your folds as it gathers an abundance of the delicious slick. That's when he aims it at your tight hole and begins to push inside you, sometimes having to thrust to give it an extra push into your core. He feels your gummy walls tight around him and he swears it's the best thing he's felt. He's sure he could blow any time now.

So he steels himself, bringing his hands to hold under your thighs and push them up a bit. "Think I'll lose track 'n drop my last finger down?" You know he's taunting you, but it makes you wetter and clench all the same. The clamping down on him has him reeling as he bends over you to place one hand down next to your head. He has to give a few more thrusts before he's mostly inside you. "Fuck, you're so wet.", he exclaims before figuring 'screw it' and plunges his cock balls deep into your guts.

"Such a good Player Two. Taking me so well. You're gonna lay there 'n take it 'n scream like a good girl, right?" Any words were long gone for you to respond with. You'd hardly gotten started, and your brain was already fuzzy. You can't even imagine how you'll be after he fucks you senseless.

You simply did what you could and nodded as you wrapped your arms around his frame. Even though he was kind of clumsy it was obvious this was a first time for him, or one of his first times anyway. He was a fast learner and had little trouble satisfying you. Especially once he learned about that kink of yours.

Shigaraki stared into your eyes and then kissed you roughly. As he pumped his cock into your tightening cunt, he brought a hand up to your throat. One pinky raised yet again of course. That's when he saw your eyes roll back and felt that pussy of yours clench him like a vice. "You love how dangerous I am. How I could kill you in the blink of an eye. There'd be nothin' left of you. Nothin' left of this gorgeous body of yours. Nothing." He chortled as if amused but seemed to carry a different aura about him as he went on. "That'd be a real shame. You're my 'Player Two' after all. Givin' me your body so freely."

"Yes, yes, YES!!", was all you could scream. It was true anyway. All of it. He drove you wild, especially like this. You wanted him and could only pray he'd have you to take again and again. "Such a slut. My little cum slut, right?" You nod again, briefly this time, knowing his hand was still on your throat.

He picked up his pace as he bullied your tight pussy. "Oh God!", he commented breathless and panting. "Such a sweet obedient girl. Ready to take her Master's cock." He feels your pillowy walls tighten around him and encourages you to continue. "Cum on my cock sweet thing. Do it." As he drilled into you, you were on the verge but still hadn't cum yet. He knew just what would send you over the edge.

With a stern voice, he once again demanded you cum on his cock. "...Or I'm gonna dust you for good measure.", he growled. That sent you over the edge and you clamped down the hardest and began to milk him dry. "Gah..c-cum-cummin'!" He was lost in his own post sex haze as he filled you with his seed, branding you his. "G-good girl.", he pants. "That's my good girl. All mine."

Your heart swells at his words and once the two of you come down from your highs, he slowly pulls out of you with a hiss. You're left there on your back, a panting mess when he rolls off you and awkwardly hands you some paper towels from nearby so you can wipe yourself up. You quickly do so and see him reach his hand out to take them back.

Watching closely, he walks over to a trash can and dusts the now tarnished rags he holds to let them fall into the can. You had begun to sit up and look around for your clothes when he clears his throat. "You, uh, you can stay if ya want." You head flies to his direction and a smile begins to pull at your lips. "I'd like that."

Slowly and apprehensively, as if giving you the chance to change your mind, he climbs into bed. He lays his arm over your head for you to curl into his naked body so he can wrap that arm around you. You glance up to him to see him eying you timidly. "Thank you." After a few comfortable moments of silence Shigaraki speaks up. "I think I should be thanking you, Babygirl."

You giggle a bit into his skin before looking up to meet his eyes again. Now it's your turn to be timid. "Am... A-am I really you're Player Two." That's when Shigaraki was caught off guard. He scratches his throat a bit. He was fine with considering that of you, especially during the act. With one finger he moves a strand of hair that had fallen over your forehead and into your eyes. "Yeah, I guess ya are. Wouldn't mind it as long as it's you anyway."

The smile you gave him in response had his chest twisting in a way he never had happen to him before. He'd need time to figure it out, but he knew he wanted you close regardless. Especially after the excursions that just occurred. He tightened his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to rest on him.

After a few quiet moments, you broke the serenity surrounding the two of you with a simply question. "Does this mean I'm gonna be meetin' the League?" Shigaraki groaned and ran his free hand down his face. "I'd like to keep ya all to myself a little longer if that's alright with ya." You widen you smile before tucking your head back into his chest to nuzzle into him. "If Dabi were to try anythin' with ya I swear it'd be the last thing he does.", he quietly grumbles. All you do is simply respond with a quiet "yours" before sleep begins to overtake you.

Shigaraki didn't know what to do but just hold you against him. He'd hold you for as long as he could. He'd try to keep his finger positions in check, and hold back his overwhelming need to kill to keep his scratching in check. No matter how much you liked being so close to death.

No matter how attracted you are for him being someone who could kill you with such ease.

[acanvasofabillionsuns]

ask me (how i'm feeling)

AO3!

Summary: Remus still makes Patton uncomfortable sometimes, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like him. Quite the opposite, actually. Warnings: none Wordcount: 814

“Hey, Patsy-doodle-dandy!” 

Patton looked up and smiled at Remus, setting aside his coloring book.

“Hey, Remus! What’s up?”

“The vacuum of space!”

“True!” Patton had found it a lot easier to get along with Remus since he started just agreeing with what Remus said. He usually didn’t want to dwell on whatever it was, but acknowledging it and then moving on let Remus have his voice without squicking Patton out too badly. Still, though… “Far, far above us, right?”

“It could be closer if you want,” Remus suggested, waggling his eyebrows and making a lewd expression. Patton scrunched up his face — he wasn’t sure he wanted to know if Remus meant something with his expression or if he was just trying to get a rise out of Patton — but then Remus laughed and Patton found himself laughing along with him.

Remus had a variety of laughs, and Patton enjoyed all of them. Screaming cackles when he scared or disgusted someone, hearty guffaws when a joke of his landed (for him, at least, though Patton thought they sounded richer when other people were laughing too), slightly unnaturally high-pitched giggles when he was plotting something or learned something interesting, snuffly snorting honks of laughter when he was truly caught off guard — they were all wonderful. Sure, everyone else had delightful laughs too, but Remus always seemed to put his heart into laughing, always big and loud with never even a flicker of embarrassment.

“I’m alright, Remus, but thank you,” Patton told him once he’d recovered from (Remus) laughing. “Did you have something you needed me for?”

“Yepperoni!” Remus had recently taken to using words abandoned by the internet as cringe. Virgil hated it and Logan kept thinking they were new slang he had to keep up with and learn how to use. “I’ve got something to ask you, daddy-o!”

“Ask me!” Patton gave him his most encouraging smile, even though he was a little afraid of what the question would be. He wasn’t sure he could handle helping Remus with an experiment or anything similar, but he would hate to let him down…

“How do you feel about me?”

“What?”

“How do you feel about me?” Remus’s head flopped to the side, sending a glob of something flying from his hair. “Do you still hate me?”

Oh.

Well, that kind of thinking wouldn’t stand.

“Of course I don’t hate you, kiddo! You’re part of my famILY!” And he’d recently been developing some feelings that made calling Remus “kiddo” feel a bit weird. But this wasn’t the time to deal with that, he needed to reassure Remus—

“Second question! How would you feel about a date?”

“Like the fruit?” Patton immediately regretted the question. He was going to blame it on feeling absolutely blindsided by Remus’s questions (twice in less than a minute!) and also his inherent need to deflect from any feelings that didn’t align with his normal “happy pappy Patton.” (He was working on it.)

Remus gave him a pouty little frown and hummed. “Well, I suppose I could work it in if it matters to you so much. But! You. Me. Torrid romance.” There was a lot of gesturing and shoulder shimmying and dramatic eye contact accompanying the proposal. Patton would be pretty sure Remus were screwing with him, if he were the sort of person to ever lead someone on. So he probably meant it. So…

As metaphysical beings, sometimes the sides got weird side effects to Thomas’s/their own emotions and mental states. Janus got snakier when Thomas was in denial, Roman took “bruised ego” unfortunately literally, Virgil’s height sometimes fluctuated with his anxiety level. As Thomas’s heart, feelings and morality, Patton certainly wasn’t exempt from such things.

All this to say that when Patton processed that Remus was for real asking him on a date, little hearts popped into being around his head. All the colors of the rainbow, no bigger than a few inches, spawning around his face and floating up until they hit some threshold and faded away, to be replaced with new ones.

Patton didn't even mind at first, too busy turning going on a date with Remus over in his brain, but at some point embarrassment kicked in. He covered his face and the blush warming it, letting out a noise like a tea kettle. Remus chuckled, a low, fond laugh that made Patton’s insides do little flips, and grabbed Patton’s hands in his own.

“I think I could take a decent stab at it” —there was a little sparkle and then Remus was wearing tiny daggers, poked through his ears. Patton smiled at the pun and chose to believe that they were earrings, non-sharp and safe to wear— “but what do you say, darling? Want to make everyone jealous with how hot and amazing a couple we are?”

And what else could Patton say but yes?

[edenfenixblogs]

I don’t put my long posts about antisemitism under a read more because I don’t want it to be easy for y’all to ignore.

It is vital that y’all know we are living under a very real and very constant stochastic threat, not even including the Israeli Jews who are living under both stochastic and non-stochastic threat right now.

The only posts about antisemitism that I ever put under a read more are things that discuss the Holocaust in any level of detail, because it is extremely traumatic for Jews, still. Jews should have the right to avoid that content without having to hide all content about antisemitism in general.

Those posts are hidden under read mores for the benefit of Jews.

I wake up fearing the antisemitism I will experience every day. Yesterday, as I sat down to dinner with my family, I received a direct message from someone who would have very much preferred that I was not alive.

I sat through the whole dinner just thinking “wow. Someone actually wants me, personally, dead.”

Any website I go on. Any time I turn on the news. Any conversation with friends.

It’s inescapable. I’m either actively processing recent antisemitic attacks and rhetoric or on high alert for the next attack likely to occur.

It’s actual psychological torture. It is actually psychologically damaging to be this scared all the time. Especially while everyone outside my community (obviously not including Palestinians and all groups affected by Islamophobia, who I’m sure are also dealing with the exact same thing) is just living in a normal world. And I’m constantly gaslit about it.

I haven’t been able to sleep until 4am for the last several nights. I’m tired physically and emotionally. I’m scared. I want this war to be over. I want Palestinians to have equal rights. I want people to leave us all alone.

I need the hostages released and the bombings in Gaza to stop. Netanyahu’s ruthless response is making Jews all over the world less safe and obviously harming Palestinian civilians. It’s all so big and overwhelming and constant and I don’t get to look away, because people are literally advocating for the elimination of my entire people as a way to prevent the elimination of another culture.

None of this will stop until we are all on the side of achieving peace.

Here’s some ways to help Palestine: https://www.tumblr.com/edenfenixblogs/736824311149707264?source=share

Here’s some more great charities focused on individual groups you may want to help as well as ones devoted to facilitating peace.

Next time you want to spew hate at a Jewish person try donating or volunteering with a cause that will actually help Palestine AND not hurt anyone else.

Remember, we make peace with our enemies not with our friends. If you hate me that much, try even harder to find common ground.

I don’t get to look away.

You don’t either.

[rc-writes]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐰

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 | 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢

pairings: jj maybank x reader

warnings: none that i’m aware of

a/n: this is a bit different then what a have been writing, but the idea popped into my head and i just had to write it down. this may or may not just be a writer insert tho lol. i feel like i’m allowed to do that at least once lol. but anyways, i hope you all like this!

Spring was a beautiful time of year on the island. Garden flowers and wildflowers alike all began to bloom painting the town in a rainbow of colors. And while it was very pretty, most people in the Outer Banks on weeks like this could not wait for summer to fully hit so they could go swimming without having to freeze. While the air was getting warmer the water seemed to stay at the same freezing temperature. The spring air made it too hot to wear a nice hoodie, but too cold to jump in a pool.

You on the other hand could not have been more grateful for the cool temperature.

Less than a month ago a local restaurant on the higher society part of the island put out an ad looking for artists willing to paint a mural on the side of their building. It was to be a paid deal and they would throw in a few free meals. Normally many more known artists would jump at the chance to have their art featured on such a well known establishment, but the very short timeframe of two weeks deterred many away. It normally takes a while to come up with an idea good enough for such a big project. And it takes just as long to actually paint said idea.

And while the strict time restraints deterred many away, the offer of money and free food brought you in. That was why you were currently halfway up a ladder, paintbrush in hand, after coming up with a design two hours ago. The design in question being a giant version of the restaurant’s menu with a little painting of each dish next to its name.

“I'm all for defacing public property and all that, but I gotta say that is a weird way of doing it.” A voice from below suddenly called out making you jump and nearly drop your brush.

“What?” You called out, currently trying to catch your breath from being spooked. When you looked down you were met with blonde hair and blue eyes. Now you might have been catching your breath for a different reason.

“Most people just use spray paint if they want to cover the side of some building.” Oh he thinks you’re vandalizing or something.

“Oh, no. I’m actually getting paid to do this.” You correct the guy.

The blonde’s eyes looked around on the wall and spotted very purposeful sketch marks. “Yeah, yeah that makes more sense.”

“I don't think most people would want to spend all day on a ladder painting an entire wall without getting paid.” You joked.

“Definitely not with all those details and stuff. Possibly without the ladder part many would without a second thought if they were just using spray paint. Not that I have much experience with that.” The way he said the last sentence made you think he did in fact have much experience with it. “Anyways, how long have you been at this?”

You pulled your phone out of your back pocket to see what the time was. “About two hours-ish.”

The blonde shook his head in disbelief. “You did all of this in two hours?”

You shrugged, “The building already has a flat color on it, so I only had to mark out where I want to paint and what I want to paint in thin lines of white. It’s a fairly easy design so it didn’t take much effort.”

The blonde looked at you like you were crazy. What do you mean it didn’t take much effort? You drew an entire outline of the place’s full menu in two hours! Never in a million years could he have understood how anyone had enough talent to do anything besides draw a few stick figures.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that, that looks easy.” You laughed at this. “But how long do you have to finish the whole thing?”

“Two weeks.” You sighed, nerves setting in when you remembered again just how quickly you have to do this.

“Only two weeks? To paint an entire wall? Man, rich people are just plain weird.” He then remembered that school was still in and you looked about his age. “Wait, don’t you have school or something?”

“Yep, but I moved a grade ahead so I only have to go half a day now.” You replied. “So I’ll spend half a day in school and the other half here working on this.”

So you were smart and talented, were you sure you were even human at this point?

“Can I help then? You know, to speed up the process?” He had absolutely no artistic ability but the offer just kinda slipped out.

You were taken back by the sudden offer. Why would anyone want to spend hours on end just painting the same wall if they’ve never had any interest in art. Which from how taken back the blonde was by the whole ordeal you assumed he didn’t know much about painting.

“Well,” You began after taking a moment to think. “Considering I'm getting paid to do this and kinda need all the money I can get, I'm going to have to decline the offer.” It was true, you did need the money.

“Oh I'll do it for free.” Normally those words were only reserved for doing something stupid shit like jumping off of something but now he found himself wanting to spend more time with you.

“You’d really want to help?” You questioned. “Have you ever even painted anything before?”

“Well no,” He admitted. “But really, how hard can it be? Since you already have the outlines it's just like coloring in a coloring book, right? Just stay within the lines.”

You laughed at the naivety but decided to give him a chance anyway. Worst case scenario you just have to go over what he did. And even if that had to happen you still potentially made a new friend.

Over the hour the two of you talked about any topic that came to mind. You found out each other’s names, that you both grew up in The Cut, you had dreams of making a living making art, JJ was more of a “living in the moment type of guy” so he didn’t have a big dream as of the moment, you both had the same mindset to go wherever there was free food offered, etc.

By the end of the hour JJ decided that the little area he was working on was as good as it was going to get and looked up to see what progress you had made. Any and all confidence in what he did went out the window once he saw what you were working on. You didn’t think what you had painted was much of anything but in his eyes, it was absolutely amazing.

“How the hell did you get yours to look like that!?”

“My entire life’s worth of practice.” You laughed.

“Yeah, that's just a little bit more time that I have.”

“Just a little?” You questioned.

“Wow, that obvious?”

“Well…” You noticed that the chicken he was supposed to be painting didn’t exactly look like a chicken. “Just a little.” The both of you burst into a fit of laughter at this.

“Well anyways I should probably get going.” JJ spoke up once the laughter between you two died down. “Sorry for wasting your paint on this… uh, abstract chicken.”

“Oh don't worry, it's not mine. The owner had all of this paint and more just sitting in the back room from when they thought they could paint this themselves. They said it's all free game for me to use and that they'll get more later if needed. Well actually that very last part depends entirely on how they like this.”

“Well If they see even half of what I can see I’m sure they'll love it.” The both of you held similar shy smiles at this. “Anyway, I'm glad I got to talk to you before you go all kook with your paintings in those fancy museums in the mainland. Remember who ‘helped’ you paint your first wall when you're rich and famous!” The last line was yelled out as JJ made his way down the street.

You only hoped for one of those things to be true. Having your art hung up where so many people could see was a dream, but you hoped to see JJ again long before that became a possibility.

[clever-fox-studios]

Two Weeks

A little thingy I started as a crossover of my Legacy AU and @garbagechocolate 's Truth Virus. I might continue as it's short and meant as pure angst, if that's desired; it'll go on AO3 if that's the case. It's not canon to my AU at all, but it does have Legacy-canon-compliant information that may or may not be relevant when the time comes~

Content below the cut:

Overhead lights hummed, casting dirty yellow-white light across cement, tile and metal rebar and pipes, trying and failing to make the dirty underground service bay seem somewhat sterile but only managing to pick out every crack and spot of dirt in grimy, perfect detail. Normally, Parts & Service was busy and filled to the brim with techs and programmers looking for something to do during the day, but at this moment only two could be found operating the repair pod, the others long gone on daily tasks of some sort or hiding out of camera view to catch a smoke or pilfer uncollected fries from the warmers. Fingers drummed the service pod keyboard lightly–click-clack-clack–but never enough to press a key by accident. That was what rookies did. Contrary to the opinion of corporate, they were not rookies. They were not paid like rookies, and yet…

Yet.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just wait for Phil?”

Balling a fist, the older technician slammed his fist into the desk, avoiding the keyboard altogether but still startling his coworker into biting his own cheek with fright.

“Owowow–”

He gave the younger worker a hard look, stilling their whining so he could speak, sharp and firm as a stroke of a key on the computer. “It’s a fucking patch for the new system they wanted the jester thing to test run.”

This was true.

“It’s from the server at fucking corporate, so it’s gotta be legit, right?”

This was also true.

“We shouldn’t have to wait for Mr. Espresso For Dinner to supervise us every fucking time the talking pipecleaner needs a spit shine”

Nervously, the younger technician nodded, then shook his head. “But Phil–” He stopped for a moment. “Mr. Mercer was extremely clear about us being careful with the theater unit after the–”

“I. Don’t. Care,” the older man cut in, face creased with angry lines and graying brown hair. “I’ve been working here almost as long as that junkrat in a trenchcoat. Just because he’s Reed’s favorite little dumpster fire he gets the head IT position, but I’m just as capable of working on the attendant as he is. I’m not a fucking rookie–no offense.”

“N-none… taken,” the younger man squeaked, unable to voice further concerns.

“Just get the fucking twink down here so I can get this done, will you?” With a sigh, the older man wheeled his chair to the desk and began to prepare the file for processing, grumbling under his breath. “It can’t be that hard to install a fucking patch for something that’s already in their system, it’s robotics, not fucking rocket science!”

~

“Let me guess.”

Sun fidgeted with his ray, fingertip flicking over the point rhythmically, eyes looking anywhere but into the acid-bright hazel eyes staring him down from behind unkempt brown-black hair.

“You didn’t stop them because Mason’s a jackwad and you didn’t want to cause more problems?”

Nodding, Sun’s fingers closed around the end of his ray tightly–a nervous reflex. Before he could do any real damage, a hand wrapped around his wrist, firm but not overbearing. It still got him to jump, gaze darting up in spite of himself to see the hazel gaze was less of a disappointed burning and more of a concerned flicker, one that knew well and good about his… ‘problematic’ tics that had been developing over the months.

“I’m not mad, Sun,” the man said, voice gentle as he slowly brought the jester’s hand down from his head. “Not at you two, anyway.”

Sun couldn’t help himself, the apologetic babble coming up before he could really stop it, “I’m so so so sorry, Phil! I know you’ve told us not to let them bully us, but the new employee was so nervous and we didn’t think it was a big deal, we just–”

Phil’s palms pressed into both of Sun’s cheeks, causing him to stop as the short human got his attention, face unchanging. “Sun,” he started, speaking slowly and firmly, “I. Am not. Mad. At you. Understand?”

Feeling his jaw quiver, Sun nodded; the hands left his face, turning to hold the man’s chin in thought as he finally broke eye contact. Quietly, Sun folded his own together at the fingers, trying desperately to contain the guilt he felt as he noticed the stirring in the back of his programming of Moon as the night unit tuned in from wherever it was he found himself during daylight hours.

“Is he mad?” the crackly voice inquired.

Sun knew only he could hear his brother but it didn’t offer any solace–it was upsetting, if nothing else. Wrong. Even after months, he still wasn’t used to it, finding himself turning to answer only to be met with an empty room. This time, though, he was acutely aware that Moon wasn’t there. That turning would net only a concerned gaze from their maker, Phil Mercer.

“Not at us,” Sun whispered back, aloud.

Phil’s gaze flicked to Sun at the sound, but he didn’t acknowledge it. He didn’t need to. Instead, Phil mumble, a bit loudly on purpose so they boys–the theater jesters both–would hear without needing to be direct, “That idiot can’t even set the time on a microwave without using wikihow. I could run diagnostics myself and see if it worked but Al’s already up my ass as it is and I don’t have time for a full sweep…” He sighed with exaggeration, folding his arms together.

Sun’s head was tilted curiously at the mutterings, his fingers fidgeting over each other rhythmically.

“Of course Mason picks this week to be a pain. The inconvenience can’t be helped.”

“We’re sorry–”

“Shush.” Rubbing the back of his head and neck, Phil came to a decision–he only hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite them all later. “How’s daycare duty treating you both? Any issues outside of the whole ‘Moon didn’t switch from theater to nap time’ thing the patch was for?”

With a click and whirl of his rays, Sun smiled, glad for something good to talk about--relatively speaking. “Oh, it was lovely! The children are so much fun to interact with! Such wild imaginations!”

A half smile crept onto Phil’s face under his 5-o’clock shadow. “Moon? What about you?”

Sun waited as Moon spoke, relaying his answer precisely while switching the voice setting to the blue unit’s default. “It’s different trying to make the little ones sleep instead of cheer or laugh. Keeping them up by mistake was… odd. But I’ll learn.”

“Well,” Phil mused, “hopefully you find it easier now but I’ll be honest, I don’t trust that patch corporate sent–especially knowing Mason was the one to install it.”

“I don’t trust that guy as far as we can throw him,” Moon muttered, earning a snicker of agreement from Sun.

Catching this, Phil asked, “What's so funny?” still grinning.

Eyes wide, Sun stuttered, “N-nothing! Moon just–doesn’t like Mr. Mason!”

Knowing how this game went, Phil pressed, “So what did he say?”

“It’s not that funny, really!”

“Then why’d you laugh, Sunny D?”

With a raspy giggle, Moon kept on in the back of Sun's mind, “I saw him struggling once to change the input source on the TV in the P&S bay when he pulled a late shift.”

Sun’s voice cracked with disbelief. “What???”

“Let me in on the joke,” Phil begged dryly, giving the tall robot a playful elbow.

“No no–stop!” Sun laughed, rays spinning while Moon dropped more little things about the man named Mason and his prevalent skill issues; if he could cry he’d surely be in tears from laughing, between the snark of his brother and the amused ribbing of his friend on either side as Phil started piling on his own observations of the tech’s mishaps. “Please, this is so mean!”

“You’re feeling better though, right?”

The others stilled, giving Sun a chance to catch his breath so to speak. “I… am, yes.”

“Good.” Phil gave his back a pat. “So listen carefully, alright?” Sun nodded, feeling Moon’s presence close in as he leaned in to hear. “I’ve already got a bunch of things to go over and finish up for you guys for this new trial run they want you two to do. I’m going to work on my own fix for the default program issue but I can’t install it until I’m back.”

Sun’s rays retracted just a hair, giving off a series of clicks that gave away his sadness as he clamped his hands against them with embarrassment. “Ah!”

Phil’s brows raised in a sympathetic arc. “I know, I wouldn’t leave it be like this but Emilia’s…” Without meaning to, Phil’s voice trailed off for a moment, his mind going a thousand miles away briefly. “She’s having a rough trimester.”

“Oh no.” Carefully, Sun’s hands grazed Phil’s shoulders, attempting to comfort the man . “Of course, of course! You can take time for Mrs. Mercer as much as you need!”

Phil gave the lanky robot’s hand a grateful pat. “Appreciated, Sunny, but I still have a job to do. I’ll be home for two weeks and I’ll come back with all kinds of things to clean you up and make you the best daycare attendant those chucklefucks at corp–”

“Phil, language!” Sun blurted, catching both of them by surprise for a moment.

After a second of seeing Sun’s shocked face, rays retracting with embarrassment, Phil let out a deep laugh. “Well, it’s already working so that’s a relief!”

“Can we do that to all the adults?” Moon wondered quietly, a devious feeling creeping into Sun’s mind of how his brother wanted to abuse that feature for his own amusement. It was admittedly tempting with the way some of them talked.

Exhaling briskly, Phil got the pair’s attention before they could get caught up with mischief planning. “Do you think you two can handle me not being here for that long?”

“We should." Sun hoped saying it would give him some confidence in the idea.

“Can you promise me not to be too agreeable with the new guys and keep your butts out of P&S until I get back?”

That one would be harder. “W-we can try. The kids…” Images of the last few days flashed through Sun’s active mind–colorful paper, sliced apples, pillows soaring through the air–and glue.

So.

Much.

Glue.

“You are too new to this to have that look of ‘back in ‘Nam’ already, Sun.”

Sun blinked and came back to the present, grin shaken but not gone. “It was just a lot! Great, but a lot! We can handle it! The helpers are very good at keeping us ready to go!”

Moon mused, “Especially Nana,” which made Sun’s smile change from nervous grin to gentle curve at the mention of the older woman with curly, gray hair and too many bracelets that insisted on everyone, even the staff, calling her ‘nana’ or ‘granny’ despite none of the kids in the daycare being her family by blood.

Phil observed all of this quietly, taking note of Sun’s expression and how he tended to look off to the side whenever Moon spoke. Despite being unable to hear the entire exchange, he had some idea what they were talking about; nothing those two did went unknown to him for long, even in spite of their best efforts to hide some of their hiccups from him at first. If nothing else, he was glad they could still talk to each other actively. I’m glad those mooks in the office are still afraid of the big bad OSHA man, he thought to himself smugly, thumb twitching against his forefinger.

With habitual movements, the messy haired man pulled a sucker out from somewhere in his pocket, peeled the wrapper off in one graceful tug and popped it in his mouth–he grimaced as the sour tang of lemon-lime graced his tongue. Peeking at the wrapper, he saw a small green gator-shaped icon stare back at him. Of course it would be Gator Blast.

“Phil?”

Said man glanced up, realizing the yellow jester had finished his aside in time to see the face Phil pulled at the bizarre flavor of Faz-pop he’d managed to fish out. “Hm?”

“What’s wrong?”

Rolling the candy to his cheek, Phil grumbled, “Monty’s lollipop flavor tastes like plastic and battery acid.”

Horror and concern flickered through Sun’s optics. “Should you be eating that??”

“Too late now.” He checked his watch quickly and made a displeased sound in his throat. “I’ve gotta go wrap some stuff up before Al starts in on me, promise me you two will be careful.”

“We promise!”

“I’ll see you in two weeks. Moon.”

Sun felt his brother’s awareness lean in again just as he was recoiling to whatever mental corner he claimed for himself.

Brow raised as he placed a hand on the daycare exit doors, Phil stated, “Behave,” despite knowing full well it wouldn’t be obeyed for very long. Waving politely, Sun affirmed on Moon’s behalf that he would, indeed, behave as much as possible–Moon himself made no such claim but chose not to argue the point for the moment. No, it would be more fun later to bring it up if and when Phil eventually found out he was not, in any capacity, behaving himself.

With the daycare functionally empty now, the yellow attendant set about checking his new and improved To Do list. Equipment and playsets loomed above him, one of the few things he found that could make him feel small–and hesitated. They still were not used to sharing a body, never mind the bizarre sensation of action overrides that happened on occasion when one of them felt too strongly and it overtook the other’s priority listing, but this one Sun had gotten familiar with. Though he himself didn’t have any issues with the bright plastic tubes and tangled nets that so many kids--and himself-- loved to scramble and climb over, he knew his brother had some… lingering hesitations about them.

For good reason, he knew, despite having been assured Moon wouldn’t remember the details, yet it didn’t stop the lunar unit from the occasional fear response whenever either of them found themselves looking up at the bars and bridges too long. Gently, Sun murmured, “Moon?” just loud enough to get his pair’s attention and snap him out of his trance–immediately, Sun felt his knees relax and motion return to him.

“Sorry, Sunny,” he heard back after a moment.

Carefully, Sun picked his way across the daycare floor to the great glass wall that enclosed the play area; there was a spot they knew where the shadows on the other side made the glass just a bit more reflective, allowing them a murky look at themselves if they stood in just the right spot. For a moment, Sun saw only himself staring back, red frill laying neatly around his neck, eyes bright and baby blue against his yellow and gold facial mold; he blinked hard and was not surprised in the least that when he look again, what stared back was a red frill laid under a blue cowl, navy and gray features replacing his own as grayed eyes peered back from the glass. A quirky little feature that had taken getting used to, but Phil never passed up on a chance to make things a bit easier on them, even when corporate threatened him with termination for making ‘unsolicited upgrades’.

Guilt crept through Sun’s circuits as he met Moon’s gaze in the glass; part of him was glad Phil hadn’t manually swapped them out to see for himself, but the betrayal of trust was almost too much for the yellow jester to bear. Feeling this, the reflection of Moon’s face creased with concern–he couldn’t touch his brother physically, but Moon knew he could be heard regardless. “You could have told him,” the night-colored bot said gently.

Sun started, “Its–” but hesitated, unable to maintain eye contact with the reflection. “I’m sure it’s nothing major. Mr. Mason isn’t the most… careful with us, and Phil has enough to deal with. You heard him, Mrs. Mercer isn’t feeling well and she’s having a baby–!”

“Sun.” Moon’s voice was firm, cutting off the tirade of excuses before it could get out of hand. “You’re doing it again.”

“I’m sorry.” With a start, Sun realized he’d grabbed onto one of his rays again while talking.

“Why do you do that?”

The barest hint of a shrug moved Sun’s shoulders. “Maybe the same reason the playsets make you freeze in place?” Sun’s brow furrowed. “I–I’m sorry, I…”

That hadn’t meant to be said aloud.

Moon seemed just as confused as Sun felt, thankfully, his brow an exact mirror of Sun’s, bunched in confusion at the odd vocalization. “It’s… fine,” he eventually managed to say, shaking his head. “I don’t mean to do it, I just…”

“I know.” Standing straight, Sun brushed imaginary fluff from his collar, attempting to make himself ‘presentable’ in an effort to get some kind of control over himself. “And you’re right, I should have told him about your eyes, but if he’s going to give us a big system clean-and-polish when he comes back, we can wait until then. Right?”

Their gazes met in the glass again.

Moon closed his eyes briefly and nodded. “It’s probably just Mason being clumsy, nothing major. We’ll tell Phil once he’s back. Mrs. Mercer needs him more than we do right now.”

“Exactly!” Turning quickly, Sun moved away from the glass, no longer able to maintain a sense of ease while his brother stared back with the empty, gray eyes that didn’t belong to him. “Today’s list has something new on it–” Pausing, Sun raised a finger in thought. “I don’t know where they keep the disinfectant.”

“I hope it’s not behind the desk.”

“Me, too!” Set about to find the elusive chemicals, Sun didn’t dare to check the glass again. At first, he’d hoped he'd been wrong when they chatted after the patch update and he thought Moon’s eyes were off somehow, but then a worker commented on it.

“Why are his eyes gray?”

Thankfully, by some miracle, that tidbit hadn’t gotten back to Phil yet.

Not that it made it feel better in Sun’s coding when he was met with empty gray irises any time he used the glass or a mirrored surface to see his brother.

Moon’s eyes shouldn’t be gray, he told himself fretfully.

They should be yellow.