#Probably a solid couple hours onto tomorrow's lol

[sysig]

Alright, speed drawing time

[silversatoru]

birthdays don’t have to suck

fushiguro megumi x f!reader (elli)

synopsis: you get really sick on your birthday, but megumi makes sure that you still have a good day :))

t/w: fluff, reader is sick, vomiting, medicine (tylenol lol), some details pertain specifically to elli

wc: 2.2k

a/n: a small birthday present for the love of my life @megumifushi who never sleeps enough and is always sick,, i love u and i hope ur days not too bad <3

you stared into your dimly lit laptop, red eyes squinting at the black text that sped across the screen as your fingers scrambled against the keys. you weren’t even sure that what you were writing was comprehensible at this point, but your essay that was due tomorrow morning wasn’t gonna write itself. at this point it just needed to get done, concerns of quality were thrown out the window hours ago.

aside from the burning and stinging in your eyes, your entire body ached, and you were ridden with chills and goosebumps. seemed like a fever was coming on, but you didn’t have the time or capacity to care about that right now. you’d pop a few tylenol and crawl into bed in a couple hours, and everything would be better tomorrow.

what time was it anyway? it couldn’t possibly be that late yet, right? 

you glanced to the corner of the screen, eyes falling on a bright 3:56am that made your heart sink and your eyes widen. you had a terrible habit of losing track of time and staying up into ungodly hours of the night — a habit that your wonderful boyfriend was trying so terribly hard to break. 

you glanced to your left and took in his sleeping form, his lips parted ever so slightly as he took small breaths of air. he’d be disappointed and upset with you if he knew how horrid your sleep schedule had been lately, and he’d probably blame your chills and headaches on your lack of sleep as well — which in all fairness was probably pretty accurate. 

“i’ll just finish this up real quick and then i promise i’ll sleep, ‘kay gumi?” you spoke softly, running your fingers through his soft, spiky hair. 

he was undisturbable, his mind off somewhere in a dreamland that was quite the distance from your small bedroom. and that was probably for the better, because him nagging at you to go to sleep would be too distracting for you to get your work done. 

your hands moved rapidly against the keyboard for about another hour, words spilling onto the screen until you finally hit the page requirement for your paper. it was probably terrible, most likely had a few words spelled wrong, and honestly you were pretty certain you’d repeated yourself several times, but fuck it — submit. you were typically an excellent student, so one bad paper wouldn’t kill you, and you were too tired and achy to care right now. 

you got up and placed your laptop onto your desk, plugging it in and letting a heavy sigh fall from your lips as you made your way back over to the bed. the soft blankets were therapeutically warm on your chilly skin as you crawled in against megumi’s back, effectively turning him into the little spoon and pressing your nose to the back of his neck. thankfully, sleep found you shortly after, your eyes fluttering shut as you drifted off into a much needed slumber. 

babe 

wake up 

babe

you woke up to small finger pokes to your cheek from megumi, his face laced with concern as your vision finally focused on his features. he bent over and pressed his lips to your forehead, pausing there for a fraction of a second and then standing back up. 

“i think you have a fever. i noticed when i woke up and you felt like a fucking space heater,” he frowned, confirming your initial suspicions from last night, “i’ll go get some medicine”.

you groggily nodded your head, shivers coursing through your body and dotting your extremities with goosebumps. your condition had definitely deteriorated overnight, your eyes stinging and a horrible nausea creeping up your throat. 

by the time he returned with the medicine you had yourself propped up against the pillows, thick blankets pulled up to your chin in an attempt to minimize the icy feeling in your body. he handed two small tylenol tablets to you with a disappointed look on his face — a look that said: i’m gonna kick your ass for not getting enough sleep again. 

“i’ll let everyone know you’re not feeling well enough to go out tonight,” he hummed as he handed you a glass of water, your brain filling with thick fog as you tried to decipher why he would need to let anyone know you were sick. 

the look of pure confusion signaled to him that you had no idea what he was talking about, megumi shaking his head before he spoke up again, “it’s your birthday, dumbass, we were supposed to get food and stuff with yuuji, inumaki, and nobara and maki”. 

birthday 

oh 

forgetting about that was another habit you continued to succumb to every year.

“mm, shit,” you sighed after drinking back the pills, “i forgot”. 

“figured you would,” megumi clicked his tongue, “but i didn’t, because i’m a good boyfriend. can you drag yourself out to the kitchen? you should eat”.

“don’t think so,” you mumbled, attempting to disappear back under the blankets before he could coerce you to follow him outside of the bedroom. 

but megumi is impossibly even more stubborn than you are, wrapping his arms under your body and lifting you to his chest, “guess i’ll just have to carry you then”. 

“fine,” you let out a long groan — was it a bit dramatic? maybe. but in your defense you felt like you’d been hit with a train.

he peppered your face with kisses as he carried you out of the bedroom, lovingly setting you down on one of the high bar stools around your kitchen table. he instructed you to stay in the chair, abruptly returning to the bedroom to bring out a couple blankets to wrap around your shoulders. you were grateful for the extra heat, you body still shaking and shivering as the medications worked to cure your fever. 

megumi was a man of few words, preferring to display his love for you through acts of service than grand confessions, and this was very eminent when he wordlessly grabbed a couple pots and began cooking for you. you let your face fall onto your arms, resting your chin as you watched him silently shuffle between the stove and the pantry. the silence was comfortable, and you weren't going to complain about watching your muscular boyfriend walk around the kitchen in nothing but a pair of loose, plaid pajama pants. 

a few minutes later he was placing a steaming bowl of soup and a couple slices of baked bread in front of you, a savory scent flooding your nostrils. 

“red lentil,” he spoke as he handed you a spoon, “it’s your favorite, so you better eat it”. 

“yes, sir,” you gave him a small smile, dipping the cool metal into the hot liquid and scooping a spoonful into your mouth. 

“all of it”

“yes, megumi, i will try”

to no surprise, the soup went down pretty fucking horribly, your head hanging low over the toilet while megumi held your hair out of the way. your throat was practically raw by the time you were done heaving and vomiting up the meal, your eyes brimming with hot tears. 

megumi tied your hair up in a neat bun so he could step away, filling up a glass with water and carefully helping you to take small sips and rinse out your mouth. he was tedious with the clean up, washing your face and helping you brush your teeth — ensuring that you felt the best you could given the situation. he then scooped you back into his arms, carrying you back to bed and profusely apologizing for making you eat the soup — but he was just trying to make you feel better, he really was doing his best.

you were ready to add today to your long list of terrible birthdays, chalking it up as another failed attempt, but megumi was not about to let that happen. he knew you had a rough history with birthdays, but now that he was here? you’d have a bad birthday over his dead body. 

he scoured the back of your fridge for ginger ale, gatorade, jello, and whatever else he could find to make you the perfect sick-person platter. and he made sure he was logged into every streaming service that the two of you collectively owned, preparing netflix, hulu, and crunchy roll so that he could easily access every single one of your favorite shows and movies. and so you spent the majority of your day tucked safely against megumi’s chest, forcing down small sips of ginger ale and watching an assortment of tv. 

your phone rang at some point — a facetime call from all of your friends who had gotten together so they could all wish you a collective happy birthday. megumi stuck a singular candle into a cup of blue-raspberry jello and ignited it with a small flame; and then they all sang the most terrible rendition of “happy birthday” that you’d ever heard, yuuji’s voice a little louder and little more out-of-tune than everyone else's.

you mustered enough energy to blow out the flame, everyone cheering while megumi shoveled a scoop of the blue jelly into your mouth. you swallowed it with a smile, praying it stayed down while everyone sent you off with an assortment of “feel better!”, “we love you!”, and “wish you were here!”

your night got pretty quiet after that, you and megumi climbing back under the covers to watch a few more episodes of your new favorite anime. it wasn’t until well into the night that he finally asked you if he could give you the presents he’d gotten for you. reluctantly, you said yes. you hated receiving gifts (it was just one of the many reasons you hated your birthday) but you knew that megumi wasn’t going to take no for answer. 

he was obviously nervous, palms sweaty as he handed you a couple neatly wrapped packages in plain, solid colored paper. they were very megumi, perfect folds with not a single crease, the paper simple yet elegant and adorned with a singular bow on top. 

you hesitantly peeled the paper off the smaller of the two, revealing a tiny box that contained a classic looking silver locket. you felt your heart pinch in your chest as you clicked the locket open and revealed two small pictures of each of the two of you. you weren’t particularly sentimental, but on top of your lack of sleep and not feeling very well, the simple gift caused few tears to well up in your eyes. but he was quick to wipe them away, insisting that you had to open the second gift first, and that birthdays weren’t meant for crying. 

you followed his instructions, ripping open the second package and revealing a larger box that contained a series of envelopes. each one was decorated with tiny doodles of you and megumi, his demon dogs, hearts, etc. they were sickeningly cute, and you immediately reached for the first one before megumi reached out and stopped you. 

“they’re not for now; they’re for when i’m gone, you know, on missions and stuff,” he could barely even maintain eye contact, his eyes dipping low as yours filled back up with tears. 

despite your lack of energy and the fever that was starting to return, you showered him in hugs and kisses after that, thanking him over and over for the most perfect gifts, and for making your day as wonderful as it could have been. 

all things aside, you were coming around to the idea that birthday’s don’t have to suck. 

bonus: the first letter: 

to y/n:

i know im not great at telling you what i have to say through words, actually, i’m kind of really bad at it. but i thought writing these might be a nice way to try and get better? i’m not sure. anyway, i guess i’ll start by saying that you mean a lot to me, and i probably miss you a lot right now (even though ill be too afraid to reach out and say it). not sure how long i’ll be gone for at the time but it’s probably a few days at least. gonna work hard so i can hurry back to see you. 

i hope you’re sleeping enough, but i know you’re not. you never do, especially when i’m not there to yell at you. i hope you’re eating enough too. but you’re probably also not doing that. you’re like taking care of a stubborn child, you know that? but this is supposed to be a love letter so i’ll try to refrain from scolding you too much. but do try to take care of yourself. ill see you soon. 

megumi

[iclaimedtobethebetterbard]

confiding over cuddles

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Logan, Virgil, background Roman & Remus. Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Analogical, both pre-relationship and during the relationship.  Warnings: Language. First scene has mentions of being outed, religious homophobia, the implication of the f-slur having been used (the actual word is never on the page), and could maybe come across as critical of Christianity although I intend it more as critical of the homophobia. All of this is kept vague and not gone into in great detail. In the second scene, there are a couple of lines that are implied to be suggestive, but no other warnings. Word count: 4657

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

analogical week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: Throughout the years, vulnerability has always been easiest for Virgil and Logan while cuddling.

Notes: Day 3 of Analogical Week 2021! @analogicalweek Yes, I’m posting it a day late, but I technically finished it before midnight last night, lol. Takes place in my Starlight Universe, does not need context to read.  Remus uses he/they pronouns in this universe. 

part 1 - nightmares “Virgil?” Logan said quietly, looking up from the textbook he’d spread open on the floor of Virgil’s dorm room.

Virgil flinched, startled in spite of the soft tone and not too eager for conversation. “What?” he mumbled, dragging his headphones off one ear. He wasn’t actually listening to anything—he’d put them on to avoid conversation—but apparently now they were having a conversation anyway.

“I’m sorry if I am overstepping, but you don’t seem like you’re doing okay.” Logan looked up at him with wide, earnest dark brown eyes. “If there is anything I can do to help, I would really like to.”

Virgil heaved a sigh, considering his options. He hadn’t had time to cancel their normal study session, and when Logan had picked up on his distress at the beginning of the visit, Virgil had insisted it was fine and Logan didn’t have to leave. Logan had taken him at his word and settled in, sprawling on Virgil’s floor while Virgil curled up on his bed and hugged his pillow, avoiding homework and everything else too, to wallow about—well. The reason he would have canceled if he’d had five minutes’ more notice.

On the one hand, it was kind of personal, and Logan was a good enough friend (not a crush, not a crush, not a crush—) that he’d certainly be understanding if Virgil said he didn’t want to talk about it.

On the other hand, Logan had offered to help, and the opportunity to seek comfort from a pretty, thoughtful boy with nice hair and eyes and lips and hands and—but this wasn’t a crush, so none of that mattered, obviously—well, regardless, it was a tempting opportunity.

“Can I talk about it?” Virgil asked in a voice that came out smaller and more vulnerable than he intended.

Logan nodded at once, closing his textbook and climbing to his knees. “Is it okay if I come up there?”

Virgil nodded, patted the space on the bed beside himself, and scooted over to make room. Logan joined him, clambering onto the bed and laying down beside him with a good few inches of space between them, propping his chin up on his elbows. “What’s up?” he asked, focusing all his attention on Virgil.

This close proximity had the unintended side effect of shorting out Virgil’s brain for a solid three seconds. “Uh.” He tore his eyes away from Logan’s face. “I… so I have this friend, right? He used to be my best friend. When we were kids. I haven’t really talked to him at all in a few years.”

Logan nodded.

“So, uh.” Virgil hesitated, fidgeting with his phone. “I guess somebody outed me to him. And he wasn’t okay about it.”

Logan sucked in a concerned hiss of air, half-reaching for Virgil’s shoulder and stopping himself partway through the motion. “Are you okay?”

Virgil nodded on instinct, thought about it, and then shook his head. “He texted me out of the blue about it and offered to pray for me.” His voice shook. “And I—I told him no thanks, I like being gay.” He swiped aimlessly back and forth on his homescreen, opening a folder of apps and then closing it, just so he had something else to focus on than the words he was saying. “He got mad. Called me a—a, a… you know.”

“Oh my god,” Logan murmured in a hushed, horrified tone, and this time he did put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’m so sorry, Virgil.”

Virgil let out a little hiccup of a laugh that held no humor but was a way to avoid bursting into tears. He drew the back of his hand across his eyes. “I blocked his number right before you got here,” he mumbled.

Logan nodded. “Good.”

“But he’s been messaging me on Instagram this whole time,” Virgil added with a grimace. “I haven’t been opening them, but…” Right on cue, a notification banner popped up across the top of his screen, previewing a message that contained more of the same stuff he’d been seeing flash across his screen for the last half hour.

“Block him there too,” Logan said instantly. “He doesn’t deserve your time.”

Virgil brushed at the corners of his eyes, swiping away the tears that were threatening to accumulate. “I—I don’t want to open it,” he admitted, voice cracking. “If I open the app, I know I’m going to read all of the messages, and I don’t want to.”

Logan was already shaking his head. “No, don’t read them, oh my god—please don’t read them, please don’t hurt yourself like that.”

“I don’t want to,” Virgil repeated, burying his face in the bedcovers for just a second to hide the tears he couldn’t quite hold back.

Logan’s hand cautiously crept from his shoulder to his back, where it began rubbing soothing circles between his shoulderblades. “Is there any way I can help?” he asked after a moment, his voice almost calm enough to hide his own distress. “I could block him for you, if you want. That way you wouldn’t have to handle the app at all.”

Virgil considered this. He didn’t like the idea of others going through his phone, ever, full stop. But he really didn’t like the idea of opening the Instagram app himself and seeing the little red notification in the corner and inevitably clicking it against all his common sense and scrolling through the messages, reading them over and over again, and maybe trying to reason with the guy about Virgil’s own humanity, even though all that would do was invite a dozen more paragraphs of hurt to read and internalize and argue about, and it would only turn into a vicious cycle of never-ending emotional damage. Not ideal.

And he trusted Logan. He still didn’t like the idea of handing Logan his unlocked phone, but it was a lot less bad than the idea of pretty much anyone else having that access, and it was probably way less bad than trying to do it himself and just hoping he’d somehow have the willpower to leave well enough alone when he knew he didn’t trust himself to do that.

“Can I watch you do it?” he asked, turning his head to the side so he could make suddenly-tired eye contact.

“Of course,” Logan said gently. “Whatever makes you feel most comfortable.”

Virgil worried at his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment, then unlocked the phone with a quick hard press of his thumb and passed it to Logan, wincing slightly.

“Instagram?” Logan asked, finger hovering over the app and waiting for Virgil’s confirmation.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

Logan opened the app and, waiting at each step for Virgil’s next instruction, blocked the guy without opening any of the messages sitting in Virgil’s DMs. “Does he have any other accounts?”

“I don’t think so,” Virgil mumbled.

“I’m glad. Are there any other methods he has of contacting you that you’d like to block him on?” Logan offered the phone back.

Virgil accepted it gratefully, his shoulders untensing a little. “I guess Snapchat.” He looked up the account and blocked it. “I deleted my Facebook ages ago.” He drummed his fingers on his lips, thinking. “I don’t have a ton of social media, I think that’s everything.”

Logan nodded, visibly relaxing. “Do you need anything? Any kind of support, or anything?”

“I dunno,” Virgil mumbled. He rolled over onto his back. “It just… it sucks.”

“It really does,” Logan agreed.

Virgil forced out a dry chuckle. “Guess I didn’t need that many friends, anyway,” he said, trying hard to make the situation into something amusing. It didn’t particularly work. “It’s not like most people like me, what’s one less?”

“I like you!” Logan protested, his voice much louder than it had been for the last ten minutes. He froze, looking anywhere but Virgil’s face. “I, I like you a lot. You’re a very good friend,” he added, fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve, his expression flustered.

Virgil set that aside to overthink for ages later. “Uh. Thanks. You—you too,” he managed.

They were both very quiet for a moment, Logan’s fidgeting only increasing as Virgil chewed anxiously on the inside of his cheek.

“Is there anything you need right now?” Logan asked again, just as the tension between them began to become uncomfortable.

Virgil let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I don’t know… are you busy?”

“Not until my next class, which is at noon tomorrow,” Logan assured him.

“I don’t want to be a bother—”

“I enjoy spending time with you, and you are clearly distressed and I’d like to help if I can,” Logan interrupted, “and you are my friend and I care about you very much, and it is not bothering me to ask whatever you want. If I want to say no, I will.”

Well. He had covered all his bases when it came to anticipating Virgil’s hesitations.

“Would you mind staying for a bit?” Virgil blurted. “To help me keep my mind off it? I—I don’t want to be alone. I think too much.”

Logan’s expression softened into something so tender it almost hurt to look at. “Of course,” he agreed easily. “As long as you like.”

“Thank you,” Virgil whispered.

“Anytime.” Logan fidgeted with his sleeve a bit more, not looking at Virgil. “Um. Would you like to cuddle?” he asked hesitantly after a minute.

Virgil wasn’t sure he’d heard that right. “What?”

“There are several physiological and neurological benefits to—” Logan began, determinedly not looking at Virgil’s face.

“No, I believe you,” Virgil interrupted, and in a surge of daring, added: “Sure.”

Logan blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise. “Oh! Alright.” He shifted closer, carefully closing the gap between them like he was afraid of doing it wrong, and arranged himself against Virgil’s side with his head on Virgil’s shoulder and his arm draped across Virgil’s chest.

Virgil’s own arm curled around Logan easily, like it was meant to go there. Virgil ignored (mostly) his rapid heartbeat and how soft Logan’s hair was where it brushed against his cheek.

“Do you want to know something totally stupid?” Logan asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, wondering where this was going.

“I’m scared of the space under my bed.” Logan half chuckled.

Virgil blinked. That had been kind of out of the blue. “What?”

“I’ve tried to rationalize it away. I know it doesn’t make sense.” Logan sounded half amused, like maybe he was trying to cover up some mild embarrassment with humor. “But ever since I was a little kid, it’s scared me. It was worse when I was little, I would have nightmares about it and everything. But it still makes me kind of nervous to just have empty space there. I like to fill it up.”

“That’s fair,” Virgil said. He understood irrational fears. “How come you’re telling me, though? Like, not in a judgemental way,” he added quickly, feeling Logan’s shoulders tense just slightly. “Just wondering where that came from.”

“Ah.” Logan relaxed again. “I am attempting vulnerability. You just shared what seemed like a pretty personal moment with me, and I know that can feel uncomfortable. I am trying to level the playing field a little.”

Virgil couldn’t help but smile. “That’s really sweet, Lo,” he said.

“I am just trying to be a good friend.” Logan shrugged one shoulder, but Virgil could hear the happy note in his voice.

“I was scared of going places by myself when I was little,” Virgil said. “Actually, that came from a nightmare, too.” He laughed a little.

“No, hey!” Logan protested. “Now it’s uneven again!”

“I don’t think that’s how vulnerability works,” Virgil told him, only teasing a little bit. “Friendship isn’t math, it doesn’t have to match on both sides. Besides, I got over that one, mostly. It’s all good.”

Logan nodded slowly in acceptance, rubbing his thumb back and forth across Virgil’s shoulder. “Alright.” He half sat up, but only took his glasses off and reached to put them on the sidetable, then lay back down, cuddling up even more cozily against Virgil once again, making a small noise of content.

“What have you been up to lately?” Virgil asked, his voice hardly above a whisper, because he needed there to be some kind of conversation. Not just to distract himself from the unpleasant stuff of earlier, although that was still a part of it, but also so that he could avoid examining the current situation too hard. Because Logan was just a friend, just a friend, and Virgil couldn’t afford to risk ruining a friendship as wonderful as this one with a big gay crush on his friend.

“Getting used to my new board position in the astronomy club,” Logan said. “And a lot of reading for my classes.”

“You’re the Vice President this year, right?” Virgil asked. Almost without thinking about it, he raised his hand to stroke Logan’s hair, which was just as soft against his fingertips as it had felt against his cheek.

Logan let out a soft sigh of content at the touch, nestling his head a little more snugly against Virgil’s shoulder, and coincidentally fucking melting Virgil’s heart into a puddle of goo. This whole not-a-crush thing was getting to be a serious problem.

“Yes, I’m the Vice President,” Logan confirmed. “I was the secretary last year, so I kind of know the ropes, but I have very different responsibilities this time. So that’s been interesting.”

“Tell me about it,” Virgil invited.

Logan did tell him about it, and then he asked Virgil what he’d been up to, and Virgil got to talk about a research project he was helping one of his favorite professors out with, and that led to telling each other stories about their favorite professors and classes (and some of the bad ones, too), and that led to stories about their friends, and Logan was looking up at Virgil with a soft gaze that Virgil could have stared into forever, and he really didn’t know what was up with Logan of all people’s sudden desire to cuddle, but he wasn’t asking questions because this was kind of the best thing that had happened in forever.

When, much later, the conversation slowly died down and Logan’s voice trailed off into a sleepy noise that he stifled against Virgil’s shoulder, scrunching his whole face up into a yawn, Virgil only tugged at the piled-up blanket he was leaning against until it half-covered the pair of them. Maybe the more responsible thing to do would have been to rouse Logan so he could go home to his apartment, but when Logan shifted closer to him and held him a little tighter, his eyes drifting shut, Virgil couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

And he’d meant for it to only be a brief nap, really he had. He hadn’t planned to drift off himself as well. He could’ve sworn he only closed his eyes for a second or two—but when he opened them, sunlight was streaming through the window, and Logan was still there, still in Virgil’s arms cuddled close against his chest. Logan was wide awake now, but he seemed perfectly content to just lie there and examine Virgil’s face, a funny look in his eyes and a tiny smile on his lips.

“Hi,” Virgil said blearily, blinking at him. Then he processed where they were and what had happened. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I should have woken you up,” he began, half sitting up, his voice coming out a sleepy mumble that probably wasn’t anywhere near intelligible.

“No, it’s fine,” Logan assured him, gently pushing him back down. “I don’t mind.”

Virgil was half of a mind to keep apologizing, but it was very warm and he was still barely awake and Logan was so soft and nice, so all in all it was much easier to just lie there and accept the cuddles.

“Are you doing better?” Logan asked quietly.

It took Virgil a minute to fully remember the events of yesterday and figure out what he was referencing. “Oh. Uh, I guess. Like, it still sucks, but I’m going to be okay, you know? And this is nice, anyway.”

Logan nodded, resting his head on Virgil’s chest as if to listen to his heartbeat. “Yes. This is very nice.”

[4 years later]

part 2 - dreams  “Come to bed,” Logan said. “You have been scrolling through Tumblr for the past twenty-seven minutes, you can do that just as well while snuggling me.”  

“I’ve been attacked,” Virgil said lightly, shutting off his laptop and turning around to face his boyfriend. Logan was sitting in bed in his pajamas, leaning back against the headboard of their bed, a book in his hands and the covers pulled up over his lap. Virgil smiled. “Let me go brush my teeth and then I’ll come cuddle you, babe.”

“Acceptable,” Logan agreed with an answering smile, his eyes flicking up briefly from the pages to meet Virgil’s own.

Virgil brushed his teeth in the little bathroom of the apartment Logan had shared with the twins in the two years since they’d all graduated college. Before reemerging, Virgil changed into the old t-shirt and flannel pajama pants he’d brought with him—he usually stayed overnight on the weekends these days, and this one was no exception.

Roman, sitting at the kitchen table poring over a wad of papers that were probably a script from the local community theatre’s latest production, waved at Virgil as he exited the bathroom. “G’night, Virge,” he called.

“Night, Ro,” Virgil responded, and for good measure, he added, “night, Remus.”

Remus, somewhere out of sight, cackled. “Have fun getting—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Virgil interrupted automatically, without any real bite, making his way back into Logan’s room and shutting the door behind himself.

Logan smiled at the sight of him, pulling back the covers invitingly. Virgil snagged his phone off of Logan’s desk on his way over, climbing into the bed and curling up with his head in Logan’s lap.

Logan let out a small, pleased sigh, resting his hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Happy?” Virgil asked, reaching up to touch Logan’s face.

Logan nodded. “Very.”

Virgil chuckled and half sat up so he could reach to kiss Logan, then settled himself back where he’d been and unlocked his phone, scrolling through Tumblr without paying too much attention. Logan’s hand came to rest lightly on the back of his head, and after a moment began stroking his hair.

He turned a page, then after a minute closed the book and set it down.

Virgil looked up. His boyfriend was gazing down at him, face scrunched up just slightly the way it always did when he was thinking hard about something.

“You good?” Virgil asked.

Logan started slightly. “Oh! Yes.” His hand, which had drifted to a stop at the base of Virgil’s skull, resumed gently stroking Virgil’s hair.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Virgil asked.

Logan was quiet for a beat, then met Virgil’s eyes. “Would you like to get married?”

Virgil choked on air. “What?”

“Married,” Logan repeated, a little shy this time. “You and I. Would you be interested in doing that?”

“I—” Virgil found himself at a loss for words. “I don’t know? Maybe?” He sat up, shutting off his phone and setting it on the sidetable. “I’m sorry—are you proposing to me in our pajamas?”

“No,” Logan said emphatically, frowning. “This is not a proposal. This is so we can talk about it ahead of time, so that if you do want it, then you won’t need to be anxious when I do propose.”

Virgil blinked, processing that. “Wow.” He reached over and brushed his thumb lightly across Logan’s cheek. “I love you so much, you know that?”

Logan’s brow smoothed out and his shoulders visibly untensed. “I love you too.” He put his hand over Virgil’s where it rested on his cheek, cradling it tenderly. He closed his eyes. “And you don’t need to have an answer right now. We can have this conversation whenever you like. I just… wanted to bring it up. Because I would like that, if you are also amicable.” He turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to the palm of Virgil’s hand.

Virgil hooked a finger in the collar of Logan’s pajama shirt and drew him close for a soft kiss. “Come lay down and cuddle me properly, nerd.”

Logan obediently set his book down on the sidetable beside Virgil’s phone, pulled off his glasses, and set those down too. With some shuffling of limbs, the two of them lay down, Virgil curled up in Logan’s arms. To anyone else, Logan would have seemed perfectly relaxed, content to lay there and press the occasional kiss to Virgil’s forehead; but Virgil could sense the slight tension in Logan’s face. He was nervous, even if he was trying hard not to show it.

Virgil’s own thoughts were whirling. Did he want to get married? He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. But they were both still so young. Marriage was so big. Even if they’d been dating for more than four years at this point, that was barely more than a blip in the really long run. And what if they found out too late that they disagreed on something important? What if Logan wanted to take out a huge mortgage, or move across the country, or have kids? (Okay, they’d talked about kids, and both felt super hesitant, not-yet-ready at best, about the whole idea. But what if Logan changed his mind?)

(But also… waking up to Logan’s face every morning. Waking up to coffee with Logan and sleepy yawns. Casual touches on the elbow or shoulder or wrist or waist or cheek throughout the day, little reminders of love that were almost thoughtless in their routine. A home that would be just theirs. They could get a pet, if they wanted. They could paint stars on the ceiling or walls. They could cook dinner together every night. They could stay up late watching old TV shows and making snarky commentary back and forth. They could be each other’s home.)

Logan was watching Virgil’s face intently, even as he did his best to play it cool. Virgil met his eyes. “So,” he began, struggling to find the right words for what he wanted to convey. “I—I don’t know what I want. Or. I guess I kind of do. But I’m nervous.”

“We don’t have to,” Logan said quickly. “I mean. Obviously. But I don’t want you to—to feel pressured, or anything, to say anything one way or the other or to have to even say anything at all or—”

“Hey,” Virgil interrupted soothingly as Logan’s voice sped into anxious overdrive. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Logan sucked in a breath. He nodded. “I—sorry.”

Virgil shook his head and leaned across the few inches between them to kiss Logan. “Babe, I just told you I’m nervous. It’s fine if you are too.”

“I’m not nervous—” Logan began. He cut himself off at the wry look Virgil gave him. “I—okay, fine. But it’s not a big deal.”

“Hmm, disagree.”

“But the whole point was so I could support you if you felt—”

“L. Babe. Light of my life. You get nervous when you’re vulnerable. I get it.”

Logan bit his lip and reached for Virgil’s hand. He held it tightly.

Virgil squeezed back and snuggled closer under the covers. “Anyway, uh.” He paused for a second to make sure he knew how he wanted to say it. “I—I still don’t know exactly what I want to say about that idea. But I know the answer is definitely not a no.”

Logan breathed in, not quite sharply enough to be a gasp. “Oh,” he breathed, letting go of Virgil’s hand so he could caress his face.

“Does that make sense?” Virgil asked. “Like, I don’t yet know how or when I want it. But I—I think I want to, eventually, and I really want it to be you.”

“Yeah,” Logan said, his voice coming out a little choked. “Yeah, that—that’s good.”

Virgil half smiled. “Kiss?” he asked.

Logan was reaching for him before he even finished the word, pulling him close and clinging to him as he kissed the breath from Virgil’s lungs like he never wanted to let go. Virgil wrapped his own arm around Logan, holding him just as tightly, and cupped Logan’s face with the hand that was trapped between the two of them.

“I love you,” Virgil whispered as they pulled apart, and now he was choking up a little too.

Logan pressed their foreheads together. “I love you so much.”

They were both quiet for a moment, holding each other close.

“I think it’d be nice to get one of those really fancy coffee machines,” Virgil whispered after a minute. “Someday. For our someday kitchen.” He enjoyed Logan’s sudden intake of breath and the way his eyes widened slightly at the word our. “The kind that can make espresso, and shit,” Virgil went on. “We could try out all different kinds of things. And I wouldn’t tell anybody how much sugar you always put in your coffee.”

“I put a normal amount of sugar in my coffee,” Logan protested, a smile quirking onto his face.

“L, I love you, but that is maybe the least true thing you have ever said in your life.” Virgil snickered.

“Shut up,” Logan whined, pushing lightly at Virgil’s shoulder with an answering grin.

Virgil leaned in and kissed his cheek. “It’s cute.” He hesitated for a beat. “What would you want? In your dream future?”

“You,” Logan responded immediately.

Virgil pressed a hand to his mouth. He absolutely should have seen that one coming, but he hadn’t, and the surprise made the pang of fondness in his chest all the sweeter. “Logan,” he managed after a minute.

Logan only grinned, looking very pleased with himself. “A coffee machine does sound very nice, too, though,” he added. “And space for you to keep an instrument.”

“Oh,” Virgil breathed, lighting up at the idea. “Yeah, that sounds really good. I’d want a library for all your stupid nerdy books.”

Logan put a hand on Virgil’s cheek. “I’d want a kitchen table that we both picked out together.”

Virgil grinned. “A couch to hold you on.”

“A wall full of art that we both like.”

“Windows so there’s light everywhere and you can see the stars at night.”

“A pantry full of our favorite foods.”

“A bed to—”

“Virgil!”

“Whaaat?”

“We were being cute!” Logan smacked his arm lightly. “Remus is a bad influence on you,” he accused, though Virgil could see he was trying not to laugh.

“I mean, probably,” Virgil allowed, grinning. “But maybe I was just going to say a bed to sleep in. And cuddle in. And perfectly innocent things like that. Maybe you’re the one Remus is a bad influence on.”

“I—” Logan struggled for a second, then broke down into snickers.

Virgil grinned, wrapping his arms around Logan’s waist and enjoying the sound of his laughter.

“Were you going to say something like that, though?” Logan asked, composing himself.

“Oh, no, absolutely not.” Virgil snickered. “You were right, I was going to ruin the cutesy vibe we had going on there, one hundred percent. But you’re really cute when you laugh, so no regrets.”

“Hmm,” Logan hummed, leaning closer. “You know when else I’m really cute?”

“When?” Virgil breathed.

“When I’m kissing you,” Logan murmured, and closed the gap between their lips.

Virgil kissed back, eyes fluttering shut and hands sliding a little more securely around Logan’s waist. In his opinion, Logan made a very compelling point.

[aizawaskittenwhore]

𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭

pairing: cartel!shota aizawa x fem!reader

words: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, this will be a cartel!au, so mentions of c*ke and distribution...yeah lol, suggestive content towards the end of the chapter (vague description of a bj), angst, cheating, aizawa just ain’t shit in this story LMFAOOO

a/n: this is the third fucking time i’ve tried to post this so if it doesn’t work i’m gonna cry. but I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE and i can’t wait for you all to see what i’ve got planned. so uh...strap yourselves in it’s about to get crazy. sorry ms joke </3

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐚’ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

The salty, warm breeze from the ocean whipped its way through Shota’s onyx locks, tossing them around with a gentle force. Miami was gorgeous from the water, skyscrapers alight with the buzzing energy of the city, streets crawling with good food and even better looking women. Gorgeous full lips wrapped around martini glasses, criminally short dresses clinging to any skin it was given. He didn’t care much for the nightlife, opting to observe the partygoers from a distance.

He wasn’t here to socialize.

He was here to work.

His wrists draped over the edge of the rail that separated him and the water, a small portion of his weight against the cool metal. When Hizashi suggested that he get a yacht he nearly spat out his whiskey, face contorted in an expression of annoyance and disdain. Shota didn’t understand why someone would need such a flashy boat, it was merely a watercraft meant for travel and or fishing. This wasn’t the 1400’s where one’s worth was tied to the size of a man’s ship. Just another glorified pissing contest for rich people with too much money, and not enough couple’s therapy in the world that could keep them home for days at a time.

It’s not as if he was in any position to judge though, his pinky coming to rest just below the silver band that rarely inhabited his ring finger these days. He doesn’t entirely know what possessed him to wear it, whether it be the ever-crushing guilt from lying to his wife, or the text he’d received from Emi this morning that read:

“Make sure to bring me back a mojito! Don’t work yourself too hard, and remember how much I love you!💕”

If only she knew that these tri-monthly “Inter-Departmental Hero Conferences” were just fronts for selling a literal boat-load of cocaine.

Turns out, yachts were really good for that.

In the span of just five years, superhuman society was nearing it’s peak. Upon the graduation of all the students in the 1-A Hero Course, and Izuku Midoriya’s induction as the new Symbol of Peace; the world began to see an astronomical shift. Crime rates were the lowest they’d ever been, with Japan and the States sitting at 2 and 4.5 percent, respectively. Newly minted Pro Heroes roamed the streets, bringing security to those who needed it and striking fear into the hearts of those who were on the wrong side of the law.

But this utopia came at a price. With the sudden influx of fresh and talented pros, crime decreased exponentially, leaving little villain-based work for Heroes to get paid for. Hostage situations and evacuation efforts took backseat to helping older women across the street and assisting young children with their schoolwork. Soon enough, peace became a burden for those whose careers surrounded chaos.

Aizawa was no exception to this dilemma. Once Midoriya and his classmates graduated and obtained their Hero Licenses, he’d ended his tenure as an instructor at UA. He felt that he’d done his civic duty as a teacher and a Pro, and produced some of the finest Heroes the world would come to see. So he began to settle down. Surprisingly, he’d begun to tolerate Joke’s incessant laughter and boisterous personality, and soon fell in love with the eccentric woman. Between patrols and giving advice to aspiring Heroes at the community center, he and Emi explored all the the world had to offer; swapping out steel-toed combat boots for soft plush flip flops against hot sand. After three years he’d proposed, much to Emi’s delight (and Ashido’s upon hearing that Mr. Aizawa could actually tolerate another human being). The ceremony was small, and intimate. Shinsou serving as the ring bearer, and Eri as the flower girl. Mic even shed a few tears during the toast, though he’ll deny it if Kayama ever brings it up.

For a while, things were good. Life was good. Emi was glowing with the energy of a new life blossoming inside her, and Shota fantasized about meeting his little girl, counting all of her dainty fingers and toes, and doting on her for all to see.

Or at least it was, before agencies began to close. Paychecks got smaller and smaller. Heroes were struggling to find work and their pockets began to struggle along with them. With Emi on maternity leave, and Hero society coming to a standstill, things were looking grim. He needed to provide for his family, his wife, his children.

He needed a plan, and fast.

Luckily, Hizashi always did have good standing with everyone’s favorite Bird Boy. So he called in a few favors.

“Just for a couple months man! We stir up a little bit of noise, make a couple ripples and bam! Crime rate’s back up, and we get back to makin’ money. It’s temporary. Nobody will ever know, I’ll make sure of it. I got you.” Hizashi pleaded, an arm slung across Aizawa’s shoulders as he pensively gazed into his glass of amber liquid. He’d done some vigilante work here and there in his twenties but this....this was outright criminal. But what choice did he have?

Just a few months, he’d said. If only it’d worked out that way.

“I was getting worried you wouldn’t show, Eraser!” Zhu thundered, hands clapping joyously at the other man’s timeliness. “That’s some boat you got there, let me guess...the wife’s idea?” He queried, eyebrows waggling emphatically as Aizawa descended from the metal ladder and onto the wooden pier; eyes rolling into the back of his head at Zhu’s...excitable personality. The two had known each other for about two years or so, having gotten acquainted over the course of Shota’s many trips between Japan and the States, and sometimes South America. Zhu Kanaka was a man of the lower ranks, opting to use his easygoing disposition to negotiate deals for Takami “Lord of The Skies” Keigo, better known as Hawks. Standing at a solid 6 foot 4, with thick black locks that spiked into a point reminiscent of an onion, thick bushy brows and a set jaw, you’d think he wouldn’t hesitate to punt anyone like a football.

At least until he opened his mouth.

“As it turns out, Emi hates the damn thing. Makes her seasick. Hizashi talked me into getting the fuckin’ eyesore.” He intoned. His left hand palmed his slacks for the emergency pack of cigarettes he kept in his back pocket for when he was stressed during a deal, although he never really needed them anymore after Eri said she wanted him to quit. He still held on to them though, just in case. “The hell you waiting for? You know the deal man. Let’s see it.” He muttered, silently willing for Zhu to get on with it so he could get in a bed. Three and a half hours on a goddamned boat (that you didn’t even want to begin with) will do that to you.

“Someone looks like he needs a nap. Alright, I got ya. Count it, make sure it’s all there. I had Thing 1 and Thing 2 back there pack it, so you might wanna double check.” Zhu quipped, jerking a thumb towards the two young men currently engaged in a heated game of Rock, Paper, Scissors; the pair of them flushing upon receiving one of Aizawa’s infamous stares. Two thick black duffles were handed to his two bodyguards, the men immediately unzipping and checking the stacks, a mental tally steadily climbing higher and higher as they sifted through the cash.

“He’s good. Four hundred thousand in each bag. It’s all there, Eraser.” Sato affirmed, Toru nodding alongside the man. “Good. Go ahead and call Jamie, tell him to bring the car around. Zhu, I’ll send Sato and Toru to help your men unload our shipment. It’s a hefty one, so you’ll need the assistance.” Shota offered, shoulders visibly relaxing at the thought of getting some alone time in an empty hotel room.

“Yeah that’d be great, thanks! How long you in town for?”

“Until about 3pm tomorrow. I’ll be on my flight back to Kyushu then.” He states, right arm extending to clasp the other man’s hand in a firm grip. “You’re goin to that meeting the Big Man’s holding in a few days right?” Zhu queries. “Unfortunately, yes. Gonna miss my little girl’s first doctor’s appointment for this shit.”

“No way! She had the baby?!?!? Congratulations man! How’s it feel?” Zhu exclaims, eyes alight with joy for his friend’s new addition to the family. “Feels good. She had a smooth pregnancy, everything worked out fine. Hana’s beautiful, and healthy. I couldn’t be more proud.” Shota brags slightly, heart swelling at the thought of his little girl and how proud he was to know he’d helped in making someone so...ethereal. “Wow. Raising another kid, you flying out all the damn time, along with whatever else you got goin on?? No wonder you look like shit.”

Red eyes and floating hair caused Zhu to immediately retract his former statement.

“Aw I’m just joshin’ Eraser! But I hear ya. It’s a lotta’ sacrifices that go into this, but they’re who we do it for. All of it. Ya know?” Zhu amends, eyes shimmering with the reflection of the city lights off of the water.

Did he even know who... or what he was doing this for anymore?

Shota found himself asking that question more and more often as of late.

“...Right.”

“Anyway, you’re probably spent, so I’ll leave you to it. It was good seeing you man, send Emi my love!” Zhu shouted as he slowly walked towards the men unloading his boat. “Likewise. Tell Macie and the kids I said hello.” Aizawa responded dryly, body screaming for some kind of relief from this exhaustion.

“Will do! Oh, by the way! You might wanna bring some cooler clothes and sunscreen with your pale ass, I hear Guadalajara’s pretty sunny around this time of year! See you in a few days man!” The male laughed, throwing him a wave as he slowly disappeared into the darkness of the port. Massaging the bridge of his nose in irritation, Aizawa nodded in acknowledgement as Jamie pulled up alongside him; his hand reaching for the handle and dragging his siphoned body into the backseat.

Jamie could sense his employer’s weary expression, and didn’t make any attempts at conversation, merely opting to start making his way to the hotel while smooth jazz floated through the car. Forehead against the door of the towncar, Shota typed out a quick message to his wife:

“Alcohol is the last thing you need sweetheart, and I love you too. Got another meeting in a few days, mandatory. I’ll in be in Mexico, so I’ll miss Hana’s appointment. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to the two of you.”

Sent.

The message sat for a few seconds before Emi read and typed out a response:

“Aw, bummer! </3 Dont worry, work is much more important right now. I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures!”

“You don’t have to make it up to us, you caring is enough. Get some sleep old man, me and the girls love you. xoxo, Wifey 😘 ”

He didn’t deserve her.

He didn’t deserve any of them.

This he knew. And yet, it didn’t stop him from responding to the unknown number that texted his phone every time he happened to be in town.

“Same time and place? Desperately in the mood to play....My toys just aren’t as good as yours, Eraser. ;)”

His heart sank. A beat passes. Then two.

Calloused thumbs move fluidly across the screen. He’s done this far too many times.

“Be there in 10. You know the routine.”

And in retrospect...he would’ve been way better off just blowing off Guadalajara and going to Hana’s appointment.

Because while he wrapped her slick ponytail around his hand, as a head that wasn’t his wife’s dipped between his legs, he didn’t think this would be his last moment of peace. Shoved down the throat of a woman who’s name he had long forgotten, settling for calling her whatever pet name he felt like adorning her with, her hands clawing at the soft and sleek cotton of his trousers.

Aizawa never anticipated that this would be the last time he would be in a room without immediate reinforcements, and be content.

The last time someone he didn’t trust with his life knew his location, and he wasn’t terrified.

The last moments of peace in his world before it all went to hell.

Temecula, California;

1:36am

The office floor was barren. Dark, coffee stained carpet congealed with the bacteria of old and new; giving it a sad beige color from the creamy foam-like white it was when the building was built. Cubicles cluttered with miscellaneous paperwork from separate departments, all of it raining down from desk to desk like a fresh layer of snow on the first day of winter. Tired, weary hands typed at a computer with precision and accuracy, the warm glow from the screen illuminating the buttons on her blouse as she plowed through each document. Her body raged for a moment of rest, but she couldn’t give in. Not when so much was at stake, not when so much needed to be done in so little time.

After a few minutes, and approximately twelve sips of bittersweet lukewarm coffee, the fingers came to a halt. A sigh of relief was freed from her body as she pushed the enter button on the dusty, tan keyboard and began to pack up for the night. Since the computers were set on an activity timer, there was no need for her to physically shut it down. After 30 seconds of no visible movement, the screen flashed a message declaring that the activity would be suspended within the next 2 minutes if no motion was detected. Content with her work, she slung her work bag over her shoulder, and trudged towards the elevator, mentally clocking out for the night.

As the elevator slowly carried its passenger down, the computer continued its countdown before discontinuing its power, leaving the following words for nobody but its future recipient to read:

Drug Enforcement Agency Operative Travel Request:

Agent: L/N, F/N

Current Operation: Potential formation of a rising cartel under the leadership and or affiliation of Pro Heroes Hawks, Endeavor, and Eraserhead. Agent has been undercover for eight months and twenty-seven days.

Investigation Status: Active

Location of Travel: Guadalajara, Mexico

Reason for Request: Possible gathering of multiple Hero-Run plazas to discuss further movement. Will gather more intel and gain trust of suspects involved/acquire more resources for investigation.

Travel Request Status: Accepted.

[badboy-mysweetboy]

What the hell is a commission?

Sweet Peax fem! reader

 This has been stuck in my head forever, and I don't know why... it started as a drabble then it just took off my guy. Random Tags: @missmarrinette​ @the-gargoyle-queen​ @xserpentlife​ @theangriestpea​ @sweetpeaxreader​ @sweetpea-fvck​

Really an eviction? 

That’s no coincidence. I’m going to Major  McMoy about this bullshit. Grabbing my skateboard and slamming my trailer door, I speed down to City Hall. The streets are damp from the ongoing rain this past few weeks, shoving people out of my way I kick up my old board before the concrete stairs.

Running up the familiar hallway to her office, shutting the door behind me our eyes meet.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” McCoy's voice rung out, gulping, setting my hand down on the chair. My tongue darting out dampening my bottom lip before speaking up, “How much is the debt and next year of rent for the trailer park?”

Her eyes widened momentarily, “I-Uh, Why are you asking, Y/n?” With raising eyebrows she caught on, with a small smile, McCoy turned as her finger pounded on the keys. “It’s about $50,000, but I already have an offer and-”

I interrupted, “No, the Lodges want to pay for your silence, but if that’s what it’s going to take.” She looked a bit taken back before I continued, “I know about you and Mr. Sheriff, I’m the only one. That’s a bigger bomb, so give me 1 week. Deal?”

“A week? That’s literally impossibl-”

“I’ve done it for Pop’s and I’ve done it for the White Wyrm, please Sierra do me a solid. I’ve never come in short. Not once.”  Now crossing my arms as the Major looked between me and the red number on the document. softly she nodded as a smirk took over my face, “See ya next Friday, and remember ‘Tell the Lodges to piss off til then’, I’ll be here. 3:45pm sharp. And no telling anyone about this like the last times.” With another short nod, my feet took off as my board glided against the polished halls of City Hall. Men in suits yelling and a few women flipping me off.

The neon lights of the city blurred as my feet vibrated on the board that speed down the streets I call home. Pulling my shitty, old phone from my jean pocket. Scrolling threw contacts stopping for a moment to see the top message,

~Sweet Pea<3~

I’ll be home in a few days, this job fuckin blows. Love and miss you baby <3

Smiling softly at the last message he sent me I kept scrolling. A familiar contact name popped up on the screen, “Ok hello, Mrs. Wealthy.” Hitting the green phone putting it to my ear.

“Mrs. Lodge, Hello...” 

It’s been over 97 hours of my hand dancing on pages and canvases, and days melted into songs that have played over 20 times. The darkening of my eyes and increased amount of caffeine and candy is taking its fuzzy toll. My palms dug into my eyes then dragged over my face as I pull paints and inks from their places. Once again dragging the brush across the cloth of the Lodge daughter and other various things requested, “It’s almost like she knew.” It was strange but she and another buyer made up 45k while I had the other 5 in savings. 

Standing with stretching hands and popping back, I grab my empty cans of energy cans and toss them in the trash bag among the others. Taking the 6 pack of Monsters off the counter and to the mess I’ve called home for too long. The music drowned out the sound of a familiar bike and the front door trying to open, turning to see the chair in front of the door budging. Moving it and opening the door I was meet with the other artist Serpent, Jug. 

“What do you want?” I growled as he shifted awkwardly, clearing his voice he sarcastically responded. “Ya know, Fp misses his favorite bartender, and Toni is all alone with drunk Fangs. What have you been doing?” Rubbing the now darker e/c eyes, with Sweet Pea’s black and white flannel that well could be a dress. “Studying Jug, you probably don’t know what it’ like being stupid. But it sucks. Tell your father that I’ll be back at work on Saturday. Goodbye Jug.” Shutting the and replacing the chair. 

Back in the crouched position, I presumed the strokes of ink and oils as the next several hours melted into lost time. 

Blinking madly the last stroke met the page and “Fucking finally! Yes! WooHoo!” Grabbing the hairdryer and drying it my eyes met the digital clock that read

 3:21 pm Friday.

Placing the last painting in my portfolio and grabbing my board. Taking off on my board once again, to Pops. Stopping at the same black van Mrs, Lodge’s profile could be seen, while handing her one of the two portfolios in my hand. Opening the backpack it was all there, looking up met with a smile. As she held out a painting of her daughter, “Beautiful as always, Y/n.” Nodding, making my way into the diner the other costumer was sitting with her son.

Walking to the booth she smiled up at me, then her son turned. “ Hello Archie, Mrs. Andrews here’s your piece. If I may, I need to go.” She slowly unzipped it revealing a portrait of her son, a big gleaming smile turned to me. “What is that, mom? Y/n?” Archie looked between us when her mom handed me an envelope, “Remember what I said over the phone, bye!” Winking at the two before running out, “I have 10 minutes to get to McCoy, come on baby don’t let me down.” Dropping my board and skating down the well-known streets, rain fell from the sky making the wheels spin faster as my old converse pounded against the floor pushing me towards my destination. 

Beating against my chest hurt as my lungs burned, running up 3 floors and bursting into Major McCoy’s Office. “I’m here, Not late! Y/n present! Now here.” Inhaling deeply looking up to see Mr. Lodge’s anger-filled face. “I’m not saying this again Hiram, the buyer shows tomorrow, if they don’t show. The trailer park is yours till then. Get The Hell Out- oh Y/n here for Josie? She’ll be here in a few, just sit down till then.” Her demeanor changed as I dragged myself to a chair as Hiram stormed out. Lazily raising the bag in the air. “It’s there, all 50k. Until we see another day. Hey rain looks like melted dimands and- what am I talking about?” 

Worry was painted all over McCoy’s face as she glided over to me, placing her hand on my forehead it felt nice and warm. “You’re sick, y/n. When was the last time you slept-” 

McCoy’s POV..(whaaaattttt? lol ) transitions to 3rd POV

“Oh Y/n.” I mumbled softly as her dark eyes fell shut and her breathing shallowed, grabbing the backpack and putting it all where it needs to be, “Once again Y/n you saved the day, only if your Sweet Pea knew.” and signed off the eviction. Pulling a blanket from the closet and draping it onto y/n’s sick form. Walking back to my desk I rang up Sherif Keller “Hello babe, I need you to go down to the trailer park and tell em’ that the park was paid for. They live rent-free for the next year.” Smiling as he asked who, “An anonymous buyer but not Lodge, make sure they know that.” Looking at the shivering form across the room, “Love you, see you later. Bye-bye.” Placing the phone on the receiver and calling another well-known number. 

“Mayor McCoy?” The gruff voice came from the other side, “ FP I need you to come to my office, please. Now.” Hanging back up, and walk up to her form once again. Placing my hand on her forehand, my hand almost stung at the touch. “Damn girl, what did you do?” 

Soon Fp showed up and immediately noticed y/n, “What happened?” He kneeled next to her cupping her face, turning to face me. “I’m taking her home, Sweet Pea won’t be happy,” he grumbled bridal style carrying her, “Just make sure she gets well, she deserves it.” With a raised eyebrow he shrugged it off and put y/n on the front of his bike making sure she doesn’t fall off, with of course her precious board bunji corded to the back of the bike. 

Stopping in front of her and Sp’s trailer, Fp slowly took Y/n from the bike to her home. Sighing he walked into her home and placed her on the bed before his phone rang, “Yes?” Fp ran out of the trailer to his own. 

 Sweet Pea’s bike was rolled into park as Keller was giving the news. 

“People of the trailer park community it brings me joy to tell you this, an anonymous buyer has saved you all from eviction and paying rent for a year. This buyer wishes to stay anonymous but let it be known it was no a Lodge, so celebrate!” Before he turned to his car passing Sp who had a shocked expression. 

Smiling he dashed into his trailer to find a mess of art supplies and trash bags filled with candy wrappers and energy drink cans. Smiling went from worried within seconds, “Y/n? Baby? I’m home! Where are you?” He walked through the trailer finding her under a blanket shivering fast asleep, quickly coming to her aid he shook tried to shake her awake but received a grunt. Putting y/n under all the blankets he could find he went to find some medicine for when she woke up. Then he got a call from Fp.

Cheers were heard from miles around as every Serpent partied and drank in The Serpent King’s trailer about staying in their homes and not paying rent for a year. The detective couple went to demand who bought the park as Major McCoy kept her promise before Fp joined them in asking. 

(Back to McCoy POV)

The four stood in front of me with demanding looks; the 2 Jones, Betty, and Sp. “They made me promise not to tell a soul and-” The writer spoke up,” But this is a good thing, they should be proud. We just want to know Major McCoy, the people want to know and plus-” He ranted before I got tired of the secret and him just pushing my goddamn buttons. “Fine, you want to know who bought your debts and rent for a year and save Pop’s twice and even saved the White Wyrm from the Lodges?” I snapped and they all nodded. “Y/n L/n, she bought them all plus other things but those were the most expensive.” 

Seeing their faces was all the same. All Shocked for sure. Sweet Pea’s eye’s widened, I continued, “She came up with $50,000 in a week due to commissions and paid it off today about 25 minutes ago, now I suggest someone goes and tends to her, I bet 50k that she was awake for about 168 hours and has a terrible fever. If that’s all get out of my office.” 

“What the hell is a commission?” Sweet Pea asked as Fp repeated ‘50k’ like it was the only word he knew. “She sold art Sweet Pea, that’s why her hands probably hurt.” They all left rethinking what just happened.

The three walked into the serpent’s trailer while Betty went to pick up stuff for y/n’s fever. Sweet Pea was able to get her into the shower as the other 2 hung out in the living room area. Jug observed the table with thrown sketches out of the way and paint cups filled with brushes. “She came up with 50k by art? Wow, she is talented for what I can tell.” Placing a sketch of Sweet Pea down looking at the garbage bags. Fp’s hands were in his hair, “50k- $50,000 dollars. She saved our asses and we didn’t even know-” Fp mumbled and his son answered, “she didn’t want us to know, Why?”

“Why? Because the serpents are my family. And family saves their ass no matter the cost, and I don’t want a single dollar from you or I’ll shove my sick ass foot up your ass, kapish?” Y/n’s now way deeper voice answered Jug as she made her way to the kitchen for some water. 

Y/n POV

Drinking the water, Sweet Pea’s arms wrapped around me as his chin rested on my shoulder. “You’ll get sick babe.” I yawned as his grip got tighter, “I don’t care and how long since you’ve slept?” The trailer door opened as Betty walked through with a grocery bag full of things, “I thought I said no buying shit, and probably 170 hours Sp. Now I love you all but I’m going to bed night, I’ll be at work at 4 Fp, Come on Sweet Pea. Bed Time.” I grumbled as the rest chuckled, “No you will not come in tomorrow and Betty, darling I don’t care what you have to do but make y/n take her medicine. Goodnight everyone and-” Fp stood and walked over after telling Betty something, I don’t know, I was in a bone crushin hug. “Thank you y/n for everything, you’re a true serpent through and through. Love ya kid, now sleep.” Before stepping out Betty held out NightQuil, being so tired I just twisted off the cap and took a gulp.

“Nasty, now goodnight.” Turning and before I could walk Pea picked me up and placed me on our bed. Getting underneath every single blanket, he kicked off his shoes and pulled me into his chest. His hands danced in my hair and within seconds I was lulled to sleep to Sp’s voice. 

Sweet Pea that night made a vow to give himself that small, velvet box in his underwear drawer will be given to her and he will cherish her till the end. 

[thekrazykeke]

I’m pretty sure we all knew what was coming. The only one out of the loop must’ve been Andrew, boop. 🤣 Let me stop playin’, let me stop. Anyway, if y’all can’t catch me here or lingering on ao3, I’m probably on Skype. I forgot my old account name and password, but the current one is Krazy Keke. Listened to Bey’s If on Spotify to get the vibe for this fic. I recommend it if you want to cry, lol!

@braexx @wakandanmoonchild @wikiwakanda @theultimateblacknerdwithglasses @adiafegan @melaninmarvel

i.

“I told yo ass...I told you. No contact, whatsoever. None. Nada!” Slamming the fridge door shut, you waved your index finger inches from under Andrew’s nose. “You talmbout ‘bae, I wanna work this out,’ ‘bae, i really love you’, but you still goin’ around and doing shady shit.” Slamming the bottle of water onto the counter, you aggressively twisted the cap off and flicked it into the waste basket. 

“You really testing my nerves, Andrew.” 

Andrew threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “The fuck you mad at me for? I ain’t text that girl, she texted me!”

“You wasn’t supposed to text back, stupid!” Hand on your hip, you look him up and then down, “Let me see your phone.” 

“Tuh!” He shook his head, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. “Ay, you trippin’.” 

“Why you won’t let me see the phone, got somethin’ to hide?” Making a move to reach in his pocket, he shuffles away. “Let me see the phone!”

“You actin’ crazy, stop!”

Against your better judgement, you make it work with your man, Andrew. For a few weeks, things had been going pretty well, the two of you communicated more and you didn’t freak out when he chose to hang out with other people besides yourself, he even checked in periodically, like at the beginning of your relationship. Things, however, still were not perfect and honky-dory. Andrew still flaked on you sometimes to work overtime (and you had a mini heart attack wondering if he’s cheating again), the intimacy felt forced and the sex? 

Well, let’s not get into the detail of how terrible that was.

He didn’t know that you’d run into T’Challa while at the park nor that y’all met up again, a few times with Buddy and Buddy actually liked T’Challa, which is surprising because your doggy occasionally growled at even your mother.

Maybe you didn’t say anything because at the back of your mind, you knew that this relationship was a sinking boat? That Andrew was a roguish ass muthafucka and constantly scheming?

Looking into the face of the man you once thought you’d spend a lifetime with, you felt nothing. “What are we doin’?”

“I’m tryna get you to stop for one!”

“No, not that. With us, stupid, with us. What are we doin’?” You reiterate.

“Whatchu mean?”

You blink back the sudden onslaught of tears. “This isn’t going to work.” You say hoarsely. Andrew makes to take a step in your direction and you held up a hand. “Don’t.”

"...I’ll pack an overnight bag, stay with my brother. We can talk about this in the morning.” You said nothing and he became frustrated, “Okay?!”

“You better not show your ass back here tomorrow. As of today, you’re evicted.” In your mind, there’s nothing to talk about. And with how he tried to get up out here with the quickness, no doubt he’d be either up in another ho’s guts or talking shit about you to his family, like you gave a fuck. 

None of them wanted to catch these hands. 

“What? You can’t do that! I pay rent here!”

“Rent, yup, you supposed to. But you three months behind, and this my house, in my name. Nowhere are you on the lease. So like I said, boy, e v i c t e d.” Waving him off, you crossed your arms in front of yourself, watching as he huffed and dragged his feet, getting what he needed and lowkey hoping you’d feel sorry for him. 

And you’re not. 

For the first time in forever, you feel great. Liberated.

Throughout the week, you ignore the phone calls and voicemails from your mother. From Andrew. Get lunch with your father for the first time in----too long, and the two of y’all have a blast making fun of what a joke Andrew was and still is. 

“Oh, would you look at that.” Dad tutted. “It just turned from bright and cheery and dismal that fast.” It was indeed raining out there, heavy. “Do you have an umbrella, honey? Because I can give you mine.”

“Daddy, no. It’s cool. I’m good. I’m gon’ stay inside, wait it out.” He still looked hesitant so you smiled. “Really, I will be fine.”

“Okay, pumpkin.” Kissing the side of your forehead, he then patted your cheek. “I love you. Call me when you get in?”

“Love you too. And I will.” You promise. 

Stirring the straw in the cafe’s signature Green Tea Berry Delight, sipping at the beverage occasionally, you stare at passerby running for shelter. A crack of lightning streaks across the sky and you absently are grateful you didn’t try and make a break for it like before. You’d be soaked in seconds. 

A hand taps the back of your chair and you blink, looking up. “Long time no see. Hello, stranger.” It’s T’Challa. “May I sit?” 

You gesture for him to go ahead and sit. He flags down the waiter, getting him to remove the leftovers. “We just saw each other Saturday. That’s a whole two days ago.” 

“Two days that were too long.” T’Challa stated, smooth. 

Unable to come up with a witty comeback and feeling flustered, you sip at your drink. He laughed softly.

“I am sorry. Too honest?” 

“No, no! On the contrary, it’s rare to, um, find a man so forthcoming about his feelings.” You clear your throat, your eyes dart around before meeting his again, “It’s refreshing. I like it.” 

T’Challa slowly smiled, the action lighting up his dark eyes. 

For more than half an hour, the two of you sat in the cafe. Talking, laughing. Flirting. 

Oh, the flirting. 

T’Challa gave out more compliments to you than Andrew had in...ever! But enough of that insignificant piece of trash. While most black men would only say nice things to try and get in between your legs, not so with T’Challa, he was sincere. Everything he said well thought out and meaningful. 

And when you spoke, he listened, really listened to you. 

Such an attitude you could easily get addicted to. 

Tap! 

You blinked when he lightly tapped your nose, jarring you back to the present. T’Challa stared at you with amusement. “I lost your interest. I am sorry, we can switch the subject.” 

“No, you didn’t. I was just thinking that I didn’t want to end this, uh...” You wave your hand around, frantically searching your brain for a neutral term instead of--

“I want this to have been a date. Partly because I am hoping this time you will let me kiss you.” You could only stare at him, stuck on stupid, speechless. “Can I kiss you, hmm?” The words caressed your ear, even as you drifted even closer into his embrace, he was so warm compared to the chill from the rain. “Tell me. Tell me I c--”

Unable to really help yourself anymore, your hands cup his cheeks and you lean up for a kiss. His left hand braces against the dip of your back, a solid warmth, even as y’all shared a kiss in the rain like a white couple in a Harlequin novel. Who cares that it was cliche? This man is one of a kind and you weren’t stupid enough to keep ignoring the signs that he could be... might be... 

The One?

[canaryatlaw]

alright it’s late I need to write. today was pretty good. I woke up at like 12:43, remained it bed for a while before getting up. I had some breakfast and got ready, then grabbed the autograph I was mailing and took the bus down the street south to where I had to walk the rest of the way east. It was international mail so I’ve done it a few times before, but still managed to fuck up the customs form like two times lol, just writing things in the wrong place. oops. but I got it all figured out and good to go in not too long. From there I was gonna see if I could take the bus on that street south to where the Target is, but the next one wasn’t coming for 9 minutes and it wasn’t that far of a walk so I just said fuck it and walked there, I was almost there by the time the bus caught up with me. When I got into the store I got a phone call from the people at the debt collecting firm asking if I could do a phone interview that afternoon, I said sure and we set one up for an hour later. I got starbucks from their in-store site and then picked up the prescription my allergist had sent in on Monday. I was keeping my groceries limited, so I grabbed two bags of shredded cheddar cheese and a box of nonfat dry milk which has been super helpful in making bubble tea without having to have large quantities of milk on hand that I don’t generally use for much else. So after that I checked out and did a normal uber home to give myself a little extra time. I was feeling kinda torn about the whole thing, obviously I want a job but like, this is one of the only fields where I can’t at least spin it to be helping people of some sort, and that’s the entire reason I wanted to be a lawyer. I called my dad and was talking to him about it, he said to at least do the interview and see what happens, if something better comes along I can always quit, so I said okay and went ahead with it. They called shortly after, it was a different guy than the first one, apparently most of their firm is actually located in Minnesota with Chicago as a satellite office, so I was talking to people in Minnesota. It went fine, it’s kinda hard to answer questions like “so why did you want to become a lawyer?” or “why are you interested in this position?” when the answers are a) because I wanted to help people and this job doesn’t do that at all, and b) I’m really desperate for a job and don’t actually care about the work at all. but of course I didn’t say that. so I talked about how people with debt are often in difficult situations and I’ve found that in many hard situations where no progress is being made, a lawyer is able to intervene and set things right, which has some truth to it, though it may not apply specifically to this situation all too much the guy seemed pleased with the answer, and he said they definitely try to work things out for people and make compromises whenever they can, so that was good to hear. A little while after I hung up I got another call from a guy who was supposed to be on the first call but couldn’t make it and just wanted to ask a few questions. he basically said he was looking at my resume and saw that I really wanted to do child welfare based work and that he appreciates the caliber of a person who wants to do that kind of thing and that he used to work in juvenile court himself so he understands what’s involved there, and he gets that this type of position isn’t really where I’d prefer to be but sometimes you have to work from where you can get an opportunity. He basically wanted to know if I was looking to actually make a career with this kind of stuff or if I’d view it as more of a stepping stone, and whether I’d be able to make a commitment to the firm, and I answered honestly that I did view it as a stepping stone and I would likely still be looking for another position that would prevent me from making a a solid commitment to the firm, and if that costs me the position I don’t really care, because I’d much rather be in a position where I was honest about my intentions rather than be somewhere I felt stuck and couldn’t look elsewhere, which is very much what I felt at the other job and I didn’t immediately pursue OPG when they started hiring because I felt like I had made a commitment and didn’t want to break that. The guy was really cool though, we talked about public interest law and what I did want to do and he definitely wished me the best of luck with everything which I very much appreciated. So I guess we’ll see where this goes from here. If it ends up being a no because they want someone more committed that’s fine with me really, I wouldn’t want to get stuck in a job I didn’t really want. Shortly after i finished the call I started prepping food for dinner since I was cooking tonight, making cheesy broccoli and chicken rice which is a good recipe I’ve made many times now. I was also prepping bubble tea stuff, lol. so I spent a while doing that and then moved into making the actual meal. Not long after everything finished Jess came over, and we ate dinner + bubble tea while waiting for Legends to come on. I liked tonight’s episode a lot, it was very fun and I really enjoyed Brandon’s acting while possessed (Jess pointed out the “issue” with evil Ray was that he strongly resembled Brandon’s character from Scott Pilgrim, Todd Ingram haha and she was not wrong). His scenes with Nate were really good but also sad. The Gary stuff was kinda wild, I could’ve seen it coming lol but now I’m mostly just concerned for him and his future on the show knowing the very small amount of spoilers I know for the finale (they’re more inferences than actual spoilers, things we’ve pieced together from small bits of information here and there). I will say I enjoyed the Zari and Nate plot, I’m slowly getting on board with the idea of them as a couple, I will say at first I thought it was totally random for them to get thrown together but once I saw how much hate people were sending directly to Nick and Tala over it it made me want to support them because actors never deserved to be treated like that based on the actions of their fictional characters, especially when they’re not even the ones making those decisions. I’m looking forward to where they’re going with the apparent dragon’s egg, that should be fun. Jess went home after it and I watched Arrow, which was a very interesting episode format wise, I think it had some flaws but overall worked and came together quite nicely at the end. I definitely did not see the twist with Roy at the end coming, it definitely seems kind of counterintuitive to use a lazarus pit to bring someone back to life when the mission you set out to do was to destroy all the lazarus pits so nobody can use them for that purpose....but I guess in the heat of everything you can get carried away with not wanting to lose someone. So that was interesting. Once Arrow was over I once again forgot The Fix was on right afterwards so I ended up being a few minutes behind on that. They’re weaving a very interesting story so far, lots of different threads, and it’ll be very cool to see if they all come together as they should. Once that was over I watched the news into Jimmy Kimmel, and then onto Seth Meyers for a little bit before showering and starting to get ready for bed, and now I’m here. It’s past 2 am, I don’t have anything to do tomorrow till the chiropractor at 2 but I still should probably be getting to bed now, so that is what I will be doing. Goodnight dearies. Hope your Monday didn’t suck.