#SPLUTTERING WHEEZING CACKLING ON THE FLOOR

[tiredassmage]

the nathema conspiracy.meme

[mothfables]

Blushing Bunnies and Rings

A gift fic for @breannasfluff! I’ve had this scene in mind for literal *months* now, and finally decided to write it down <3 I hope you enjoy!!

“You know what’s nice about you being home?” Ravio asks, leaning on the counter with his chin propped in his hand. His Mr. Hero and his brothers have come to visit again. The Chain, as they call themselves, have spread through the house while Link- Legend, Ravio reminds himself- has decided to sort through and swap out some of his items.

Right now, he’s going through one of his many ring boxes. Box in hand, he sweeps distractedly across the room, barely registering Ravio’s question. “What’s that, Ravi?” he calls back, only partly paying attention.

Ravio grins, though the other boy can’t see it. Wind, on the opposite side of the room, can, and quickly comes to the conclusion that something potentially amusing is about to happen. His eyes flick between Legend, still nose-deep in his ring box, and the merchant, whose eyes are trained directly on his brother. Rupee-green shines mischievously.

“I get to look at you.”

The statement takes a moment to register. Legend pauses, blinking, before fully realizing what he heard. Then the box is clattering out of his hands, rings spilling out across the floor as his face flushes bright red.

Wind is in a prime position to watch as Legend splutters, his hands flailing as he tries - and fails - to come up with a response. He sees Ravio’s grin grow to a smug smirk as his partner continues to flounder, the red spreading to the tips of his ears and down his neck. A snicker makes it’s way out of his mouth and he slaps a hand over it.

The other heroes make an appearance then, drawn by the noise. They’re treated to the sight of a scarlet Hero of Legend, a smirking merchant, and a Sailor whose own face is starting to match the Veteran’s with how hard he’s struggling to hold back laughter.

“Y-you- I- you- Whuh-”

Wind can’t help it anymore- he lets out a loud ‘HA!’ before doubling over, clutching his ribs and cackling. Warriors snickers. Twilight snorts before catching himself and turning away, but everyone can see his shoulders shaking.

Ravio’s smirk only grows. From here, he can’t see Legend’s face but he does have the privilege of watching his partner’s ears flickering madly as they grow progressively more red with each passing second.

After another minute of flustered flailing, Legend abruptly turns and marches stiff-legged to the couch, where he collapses face-first and lets out a muffled scream.

The other heroes only laugh harder.

Ravio chuckles for a few moments before he pushes himself off the counter and moves to pick up the scattered rings. To his pleasant surprise, Wind joins him, shaking off the last of his laughing fit with a bright grin.

“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs, appreciative. The young hero beams, reaching for the box and dropping a handful of rings inside. Between the two of them it’s short work, and before long Ravio is snapping the lid closed and standing to put it on the counter. He’ll sort them properly later.

Then he turns and makes his way to the couch where his hero is still lying facedown. He bends to press a kiss to ruffled strawberry-blonde locks, cooing at the whine that elicits. Legend doesn’t look up at him; instead he tries to burrow further into the cushions. The action only makes Ravio chuckle, and cooling ears burn red again as the merchant pets his hair.

“Oh, bunny. I can’t have embarrassed you that much, can I?”

Behind him, Ravio hears the other heroes begin to make their way out of the room now that the fun is over, some of them still laughing. One of them- the Captain, he thinks- makes a strangled wheezing sound. He pays them no mind, his attention solely on the hero before him. The hero who has yet to move from where he’s apparently trying to become one with the couch.

The sight makes Ravio laugh again and he muffles the sound with a sleeve. Link- Legend has had enough teasing for the day, no need to add to it. He pats his head a final time before straightening and moving towards the doorway. Mr. Hero will resurface when he’s ready.

In the meantime, he should probably go warn the Chain off of teasing him too badly, since he knows they’ll do it anyway. ‘Brothers,’ he thinks with a smile.

[fangirlshrewt97]

Imitation is the Sincerest Form of Flattery

So. I promised you a Dhruya fic. I... did not have time to write the Dhruya fic. I wrote this instead. Please accept it. 🙏🙏🙏.

///

Bheem was sharpening his hunting knives as he listened to Sita and Jenny practicing their English on the other side of the hut. Bheem had bowed out after 30 minutes but Sita was still going strong. The women would occasionally break out into laughter that made Bheem smile.

 Sita had had a difficult time the last few months, even if she did her best to hide it behind a smiling face. It was good to hear the sound of her joy. It was the best kind of background noise.

And it was all peaceful, until Ram walked hurriedly into the place. He had a concerned look in his eyes that immediately had Bheem sitting up, alert.

"Ram? What happened?"

"I'm just," Ram growled as he overturned his chest of clothes, digging through them. "I can't find my lathi. Or my police uniform shirt. Or police cap."

Bheem's brows furrowed. "For the mission tomorrow? Did you check in-"

"Yes I already asked Loki. She said she kept all our clothes in our hut after she washed them." Ram said as he stood up, crossing over to where Sita and Jenny were sitting. Both women moved far back to allow him his space.

"I don't think you'll find it among the pots and pans," Bheem commented as Ram exhaled in frustration. "Maybe they got mixed up with the other supplies set aside for tomorrow?"

Ram stared at him. "Why would my clothes be mixed with the supplies?" "Because you are so focused on making your plans the only reason you don't lose your head is because it's attached to your neck. And you have Bheem." Sita piped up, smirking.

Ram scoffed as he waved her away, making her giggle. "If you won't help, then stay out of it."

"Ah, don't be like that Mama," Sita said as she stood up, "Come, where all have you looked so far?"

Ram went to retort only to be interrupted.

"Freeze!"

Ram's jaw dropped when he turned. 

Malli stood at the threshold, marching in with her head held high. She was wearing his uniform shirt over her dress, the garment reaching past her knees. His cap was falling over her eyes, prompting her to straighten it with one hand. In her other was his lathi.

"Malli, wha-"

"MALLI! GO DO SOMETHING YOU HATE! BEING MISERABLE BUILDS CHARACTER! SMILES ARE A SIGN OF WEAKNESS!," Malli proclaimed, pointing in turn at Bheem, Jenny, and Sita who were all gaping at her before turning to Ram. "I AM ALLURI RAMARAJU, AND I WILL PERSONALLY SHOOT DOWN EVERY WHITE MAN IN INDIA."

The hut was silent for a few seconds after Malli finished. Then Jenny let out a giggle. Which caused Sita to crack and start shrieking like a banshee in laughter. Bheem had bitten his lip to control his laughter, but he made the mistake of glancing at Ram, who was still blinking dumbfound at Malli. 

Bheem lost it.

Ram scowled at his so called friends, and their cackles, turning to stare down Malli. Only to find her looking at him with that exact expression.

He scowled harder, crossing his arms. She mimicked him, deepening her frown as she crossed her arms across her chest.

He dropped his arms. She did too.

Ram heard Sita's howling grow louder. He felt his eye twitch. And his lips. A blink and you’ll miss it smile.

"Ok, that was fun and all," Ram stated, "but game over Malli. Give me back my things."

"Who-" Malli cleared her throat before dropping her voice an octave lower to match Ram's usual inflection. "I don't know any Malli. Except the one very sweet girl who helped me make a flute for her Bheem Anna that finally earned me his love."

Ram spluttered even as Bheem started to laugh loud enough for Ram to feel it in his chest. Sita had been reduced to silent wheezing, and who had at some point fallen to the floor. She was clutching her stomach, tears streaming down her face.

Ram took a deep breath, closing his eyes and pinching his nose with one hand as another went to his hip. He exhaled fully before looking at Malli, who was still imitating him, with one eye half open to keep track of what he was doing.

When he glared at her she just threw him her cheekiest smile. Behind him he heard a bump and turned to see Jenny cooing at Sita through her laughter, the latter having apparently bumped her head against the low table. He looked her dead in the eye. "I hate all of you. I hope you choke. "

This just sent Sita into another laughing fit, except this time she braced herself on Jenny to get up before she stumbled to where he was standing. Hip checking him to the side she threw her arms around Malli, cupping her cheeks to press a loud, smacking kiss to her forehead. She then hugged her to her chest as she looked straight at Ram. "I love you so much Malli."

Malli's façade finally cracked as she started giggling, throwing her arms around Sita's waist. "I love you too Akka."

Ram glowered at the pair, crossing his arms over his chest again. Only to feel a stronger pair wrap over them. And then a kiss being pressed to his cheeks.

"Come on Ram, laugh. That was funny. I saw you smile."

Ram harrumphed and turned his head away. "No I didn't."

Bheem used two fingers to guide Ram back to look at him. His eyes were bright, and he had his trademark sunshine smile on. "No?"

"No."

Bheem sighed, hooking his chin on Ram's shoulder. "Too bad. Malli, next time you want to try to make Ram Anna laugh there is a much easier way to do it than by stealing his clothes and mimicking him. Though you did an excellent job.

She did, didn't she Ram?" Bheem asked, digging into Ram's side.

Ram squirmed away from the probing fingers before nodding. Reluctantly. Malli beamed at the pair, an expression made cuter by the fact Ram's cap tilted to fall over half her face.

Ram sighed, pulling away from Bheem to approach the girl. He let a small smile take over his face as he set the cap straight and poked her cheek. "Just don't take my things without telling me, alright."

Malli blushed before nodding, still snug in Sita's arms. Sita tucked the younger girl under her chin.

Bheem pulled Ram back against his chest.

Malli looked at Bheem. "What's the easier way Anna?"

"Hmm?" Bheem asked.

"Easier way to make Ram Anna laugh." She clarified.

Bheem's smile seemed to grow wider somehow. He tightened one arm around Ram's waist and before the other man could finish yelping, was digging his face into Ram's side, tickling him relentlessly.

Ram shouted as his legs gave out beneath him, trying to get away but Bheem held on tight. It was only when Ram was breathless from laughing, with tears appearing at the sides of his face that Bheem backed away.

Malli looked at the whole scene with open delight. A look was exchanged over Ram's head with Bheem.

Ram barely had the time to catch his breath before Malli crashed into his chest and started tickling him in turn. Ram squirmed under her before he twisted to wrap his arms around hers and curl them both up so she was trapped against his chest. "Right. Enough. Had your fun?"

Malli giggled, throwing her arms around. "Yep."

Ram smiled, a full one. He hugged Malli close, and whispered so low only she could hear. "Thanks for the help. Its been a long time since I've heard Sita laugh so much."

Malli squeezed him back. "You're welcome Anna."

Jenny picked up the police cap that had fallen to the side when Malli had tackled him, and set it on Malli’s head. “You are a fantastic actress Malli.”

Malli blushed. “Thank you Ms. Jenny.”

Ram tugged at the shirt she was still wearing. “Are you going to give me back my things?”

Malli pretended to think, squinting at him as he looked back in amusement. Then she gave a dramatic sigh. “I suppose. If I have to.”

“Very generous of you.” Ram said, deadpan as he accepted his items back.

He glanced at the expressions on everyone’s face and felt his heart warm. He knew he wasn’t the best at feelings. Or at making people laugh. But he had succeeded today, indirectly though it may have been. And it had felt so good.

Maybe there was some hope for him after all.

///

This one had the dumbest source of inspiration, but somehow I saw that and just could not get the idea of Malli imitating Ram while the others laughed out of my head.

Feedback is appreciated!!

Tagging (Please please work, Tumblr I beg you):  @rambheem-is-real @budugu @bromance-minus-the-b @junebugyeahhh @hissterical-nyaan @obsessedtoafault @hufhkbgg @yehsahihai @rorapostsbl @bluesolace1 @fadedscarlets @alikokinav @chaotic-moonlight @rambheemisgoated @rambheemlove @jaganmaya @burningsheepcrown @lovingperfectionwonderland @rosayounan @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @thewinchestergirl1208 @dumdaradumdaradum @ronaldofandom @jjwolfesworld @jrntrtitties @kashpaymentsonly @jeonmahi1864 @zackcrazyvalentine @stanleykubricks @m3gs1mps4a @tulodiscord @teddybat24 @sally-for-sally @ssabriel @jadebomani @stuckyandlarrystuff

[leiawritesstories]

Decoration Station

It’s officially the holidays, y’all! Meaning let’s decorate the house! Feat. alcohol, shenanigans, and lover bickering, of course.

Word count: 897

Warnings: language, naughty jokes

~~~~~

Elide knew she’d gone to Aelin’s just to help her decorate, because Jesus, that woman had more decorations than would fit in her apartment. And yet she wanted to put all of them up. Every year, she thought as she knocked on her best friend’s door, every damn year. 

Aelin opened the door grinning hugely. “El! You came!”

“Of course I did, someone’s got to save you from drowning in tinsel or strangling yourself with your thousand yards of lights. Shit, girl, how you managed to buy that many lights confuses me every time.”

“Cause some of them burned out, you bitch,” Aelin returned, hugging Elide. “There’s mulled wine and gingerbread in the kitchen, though...”

“Say no more,” Elide smirked. “And you know damn well you don’t have to bribe me. I come to decorate every year.”

“I know, I know. It’s not you I had to bribe.”

“What?” Halfway to the kitchen, Elide whirled around. “Ae, did you...no, you wouldn’t. Would you?”

“Wouldn’t I?” Aelin smirked. “And what about the tree I couldn’t wrangle or the lights I’m still not tall enough to put up?”

Elide smacked her best friend’s shoulder. “Seriously?”

“Now now, El, no need to get aggressive,” Aelin teased. “It’s just my neighbor.”

“Yeah, the neighbor you’ve been trying to fucking set me up with since you moved here.”

“So? He’s attractive as shit, if you’re into tall, dark, and grumpy. Which you are, and I am not.”

“Oh, shut it.” Elide grabbed herself a glass of wine, took a good long pull before heading into the main space of the apartment.

Where Aelin’s tall, broad, dark-haired neighbor was cursing at the seven-foot tree he couldn’t seem to get into the stand.

“Struggling a little, are we?” she asked.

Lorcan shook the tree, grumbling something vulgar under his breath. “Hey, Elide. Ae said you were heading over.”

“Yeah, I help her properly decorate every year.”

“Properly meaning ‘don’t short out our entire floor’s electricity with your lights?’“

Elide chuckled. “Pretty much. Here, let me help you with the tree. Ae’s stand is older than she is, it’s temperamental.” She drained her wineglass and placed it on the side table and sat down on the carpet by the tree stand. “Okay, lift the tree all the way up out of the stand.” With the tree suspended, she lined the trunk up with the stand. “Lower.” Lorcan slowly let the tree down and Elide guided it into place. “Done.”

“The hell did you get it that fast?”

“Experience.” Elide threw Lorcan a sly wink on that word. He choked on whatever he was going to say, spluttering out a few nonsense words before falling silent. “What?”

“I’m going to pretend I did not just hear you say that,” he griped. 

“Good luck,” Elide chirped, “we’ll see how long that resolve lasts when you’re jac--” Lorcan clamped his hand across her mouth, cutting off her sentence. Elide stuck her tongue out, licking his fingers, and he jerked his hand back. She cackled. “Gods, Salvaterre, you this easy to get riled up?”

Lorcan just glowered at her, until he couldn’t hold it any longer and broke into a chuckle. “Godsdammit, Elli, she’s going to figure everything out.”

“I’m honestly shocked she hasn’t already put the pieces together.”

“Yeah, well it’s easy for her to overlook us two when she’s busy putting her and Whitethorn’s pieces together.”

Elide’s jaw dropped in utter shock. “Lorcan Salvaterre, did I just hear you make a dirty joke about your best friends?”

He smirked.

Elide burst out laughing. “Oh my gods, Lor, that was brilliant,” she wheezed. “I knew there was a reason I liked you so much.”

“Besides tall, dark, and grumpy?” he queried. 

“Yeah. Tall, dark, and grumpy, makes unexpectedly hilarious jokes about our best friends’ obnoxious sex lives, and, well,” her eyes trailed downwards, glinting with wicked delight, “eight more delicious reasons.”

Lorcan’s knee jerked, banging into one of Aelin’s totes of decorations. Aelin stuck her head into the living room. 

“You better not break my ornaments, Salvaterre!” 

 Elide flopped over in laughter, clutching her stomach. “Oh, it won’t be your ornaments that get broken, Ae,” she cackled, wiping her eyes. 

“What?!” Aelin whipped back into the living room, taking in the scene for the first time: Elide lying on the floor in helpless mirth, Lorcan’s back to the doorway, very intent on taking decorations out of a tote, obviously trying to stop himself from looking fondly at Elide and failing miserably. “Oh my gods.”

“Oh your gods what?” Lorcan snarked.

“OH MY GODS!” Aelin squeaked. “You’re dating!”

Elide looked at Lorcan. Lorcan looked at Elide. They both looked at Aelin, who was practically bouncing. They nodded.

Aelin squealed. “I knew you’d like each other!!”

Elide rolled her eyes. “I met him before he moved into your building, hon.”

“What.”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other for two years,” Lorcan added. “We’ve only been dating for a few months, though, so be happy about that.”

“Two years--” Aelin shook her head. “You both suck, you know that?”

Lorcan smirked at Elide. She smirked right back. “Not as much as you do, babe!” Elide singsonged.

Aelin flushed bright crimson. “You heathens!”

“Love you too, Ae!” Elide tugged Lorcan to his feet. “C’mon, baby, I think Ae can handle putting up her ornaments by herself. We’ve got a tree to decorate too.”

[richiettozier]

mal amour

Richie counted to one hundred before pushing against the fancy intercom. Passerby didn't mind his stalling, they just threw a curious glance at him, probably asking themselves why he stood immobile like that for almost two minutes straight before doing anything – he didn't even notice those looks. His eyes are too busy in reading over and over the Kaspbrak tag written elegantly besides the intercom's button.

“Yes?” answered the robotic voice of a woman, and something from his chest fell into the bottom of his stomach. Romantically, his heart. Truthfully, he'd say just bile.

Richie cleared his throat, “Pizza man!” he half–joked. He hoped that she would let him enter with that blatant excuse, but he didn't feel so lucky so he didn't expect anything more of a click and the deaf sound of the silent intercom.

“We never order pizza.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“I was kidding, obviously.” Richie sighed and tapped once against the wall of the apartment building, also leaning to get closer to the device. He was tired from the trip from Los Angeles to here in New York, so he didn't want to raise his voice. He was lacking of sleep, but it wasn't because of the flight he took in the middle of the night. “I am a... friend of Eddie? I believe he lives here. You know, it's his name on the intercom.”

“A friend of my Eddie?” she seemed to gasp. Richie didn't like the sound she was making, the incredulity he was hearing from the metallic noises coming out the device.

“That's what I said.”

“And what you are called?”

The fuck. “Eddie's mom–” he bristled, stopping himself. He glanced down at his bags abandoned by his feet, and grudgingly he decided that he shouldn't make mom's jokes right now, if he didn't wish to go sleep under a bridge tonight – not that he would sleep in any other place, but it was surely more uncomfortable than a couch. “I mean, Eddie calls me Richie, sometimes Rich, and when he's particularly mad at me he even calls me Richard. But actually, everyone calls me Richie, because that's my name. It's a...” he gulped, “A pleasure. Or it would be, if we weren't talking through an intercom.”

The intercom clicked, in the end, and the silence Richie was expecting finally arrived. He leaned his forehead against the cold marble of the building door's edge and closed his stinging eyes, shunning them from the midday New York sun. Shit. He grabbed his two bags and threw them over his shoulders – half himself wanted to go, just go away, because evidently he wasn't welcomed between the lovebirds; but the other half wanted to ring the intercom again and again, until Eddie himself, obviously annoyed, jumped down the stairs to kick him away from there.

The latter seemed to be the best of the two options. At least Richie would see him, angry and alive, before going fuck himself. His finger stopped mid hair, though, when a long bip came from the building's door, signaling that someone – Richie guessed Eddie, at this point – finally fucking let him enter.

Richie didn't know which floor Eddie's apartment was, so he chose to walk up the stairs instead of use the elevator – a grave mistake, but necessary. He started with a quick step regardless of the tiredness he was feeling in his very bones, but just after a single flight of stairs he already was wheezing. “Thank the fucking God,” he huffed, when he reached the third floor and there was Eddie waiting for him in front of the door of his apartment.

Eddie was clearly looking at the elevator, expecting him to come out of it, that was why he almost jumped when he heard his heavy steps stumbling on the stairs. “Why the fuck you didn't use the elevator, Rich?” It was Eddie's greeting, and Richie almost cried hearing it. “I think I never used the stairs in three years, maybe more.”

“I didn't know where your apartment was, dickwad.” Richie inhaled deeply when he arrived in front of Eddie, and he felt his fingers twitch around the straps of his bags. He tightened his grip, “Hey, Eds.”

Eddie's expression melted, and dimples appeared at the sides of his mouth as he smiled and walked towards him, with warm eyes and open arms. “You fucker.” Eddie hugged him, patting his shoulders. Richie's arms almost circled his waist in the hug, but then he decided to just pat his back the same way. He felt eyes looking through him, but Richie tried not to look up and see who the stare belonged to. He had some ideas, though. “What are you doing here? Are you on tour? You didn't tell you were about to start one so soon.”

Eddie ended the hug, and Richie finally felt enough himself to take a good look at him without feeling jelly legs. He was in a suit, so he must have come back from whatever office he was working in to have lunch – with his wife – and he was so good looking that Richie thought it to be very unfair. He tried not to think much about his own state, worse than he was even before getting up the plane, and he wasn't decent then either. “Well, uh,” Richie sniffed, “No, I'm not on tour. I am still in that sabbatical time, or whatever Steve called my doing absolutely nothing.”

Eddie ushered him inside, and only then Richie forced himself not to look at his ass and stare straight ahead. There is no one, no woman watching at him with a frown, no plus–sized wife sending daggers with her eyes. Only Eddie, and the terrible smell of disinfectant lingering in the too white and aseptic apartment.

“Want a drink?” asked Eddie, gesturing at him to go sit on the couch.

“The strongest you have.” Richie knew that he probably just had, like, lame wine, but he was not going to complain, as he sat on the strangely comfortable cushions of the couch, throwing his bags on the floor without much care.

Eddie put a plain glass of water on the coffee table in front of him. Richie didn't even felt surprised. He should have expected it. Had he really married his fucking mother? “I just have water,” Eddie said, defensively.

“I can see that. It's fine,” Richie waved a hand, “So.”

“So.” Eddie sat next to him, closer than expected, but still too far. “Not that I'm not happy to see you, don't get me wrong here, man. But...” Eddie's warm eyes fell on his bags on the floor, “You should have, you know, gone to the hotel before coming here. So you didn't have to bring your things around the city.”

Richie shrugged, “Haven't booked a room.”

Eddie blinked, then sighed. His eyebrows were scrunched in an adorable frown, “I don't know why, but I'm not surprised.”

“I just, got on a plan and came here, you know? Without much thought. I–” Richie lowered his voice and leaned towards him, fidgeting slightly with his own fingers. He didn't want to look around and see if his wife was eavesdropping their conversation, so he just... let it all out. Who fucking cared. “I wanted to see you.”

Make sure you're still breathing, make sure your chest isn't pierced through, make sure that you're not bleeding on the sewers' dirty floor.

Eddie looked contrite, “Rich–”

“Just for a couple of days? I just need to, to stay with you for a couple of days, not much more. Is it too much to ask? You know, this couch is the most confortable couch my ass has ever put his glorious form on, I'm serious!” Eddie laughed, and Richie took it as a victory, “I wouldn't invite myself if I really didn't need it. I really, really need you. Er, I mean, it. Oh, fuck, alright, you! I need you!”

Eddie lowered his eyes, pointing them on the floor. Richie felt the silence stretching for almost thirty seconds before feeling a bubble of idiotic chatter raising from his throat, but he didn't have the time to splutter out a joke – he just wanted Eddie to laugh, after all – because a snort came out of Eddie's nose, “Rich, you idiot, you can stay as long as you want. No one will kick you out of here.” Eddie's mouth clicked shut, as if he said something he shouldn't, something unforgiving. But at the same time, the determination into his big eyes was saying that he wouldn't change his mind no matter what. “But you really have to sleep on the couch, I have no spare room.”

“Damn, Spaghetti boy, such a luxurious apartment and you didn't even have a spare room? You are the worst rich man I've ever met.”

“Shut up and fuck you.” Eddie shoved him, cackling with a tense laugh that Richie didn't really like, but it was better than nothing, he guessed. “Well, I think introductions are in order, considering that you have to stay here for a while.” he sighed, passing a nervous hand through his neatly hair, ruffling it. Richie's fingers twitched. He felt a pang of guilt for causing Eddie's discomfort, and for thinking of how he longed to do the same with his own hand. When he got up, Richie followed him, “I will take some time off from work, so we can... talk, yeah?”

“You don't need to do that.”

“Yeah, I do. You need me, you said.” Eddie threw him a glance through his long lashes, “And you look like shit, Richie. You look like you went to hell and back.”

I did, Richie thought. He desperately tried to come up with a joke, but all the things roaming into his mind in that moment weren't really funny. So he shrugged, “Yeah, the flight killed me.”

“Later we can go eat something,” Eddie was saying, as he walked into a room that Richie thought to be the kitchen, but it was so clean and neat that maybe he put his feet into an exhibition of furniture without noticing it. “We can talk... freely with a slice of pizza in front of us, how about that?”

“That sounds very good, if you add some ice cream right after.”

“What kind of guy do you think I am now?” Eddie snorted. One that doesn't order pizza anymore, Richie almost said, but the words got stuck in his throat at the sight of the woman he found sitting by an island, cleaning the already shiny marble of the furniture.

That woman was... was Eddie's mother. “I'm having a dé–jà vu.” choked out Richie, leaning against the doorframe, passing a hand on his forehead. “Mrs. K?!”

Eddie hissed, cursed and elbowed him in the ribs.

The woman was huge. Usually there wouldn't be anything wrong about this, but the fucked up similarities to Eddie's mother were making the impact way too traumatizing – Richie would say that only the straight, blonde mid long hair falling over her broad shoulders is the real difference that convinced him that she was not really the late Mrs. Kaspbrak.

“Richie, she's my wife, Myra.” Eddie was saying, ignoring the tumultuous whirlwind fucking Richie's mind. Well, Richie knew, from Eddie's words and confessions back in Derry, that he didn't get over the shadow of his mother, that he completely forgot fighting against her abuses when they were teenagers, but – Richie didn't think it was that bad. Jesus. “Myra, this is Richie, one of my childhood friends. I told you about them, you remember?”

“Yes, you did.” she snarled, “They caused you that scar! And you still have contact with them? You bring them here, in our house? They are dangerous! They will cause you harm, dear!” she said, her light eyebrows knitted together in a worried expression that twisted in rage when her eyes fell on Richie.

Richie, as Eddie just ignored her words as if he'd heard them so many times that they have no meaning anymore to him, grimaced slightly though at her outburst. He felt bad, the lingering uneasiness he had in his bones and insides since they all left Derry spiked up suddenly like an old burn sliding against a hot surface again. He eyed at the silver scar on Eddie's cheek, almost invisible but definitely still there. That scar wasn't Richie's fault, even if guilt squeezed his insides nonetheless, even if he always claimed to love him and then he left him alone right when that scar was made; still it could have been so much worse not much later, and at in that occasion it would have been all his fault.

“I'm wounded,” Richie said, pressing a hand against his chest, “Eddie talked so well about you, Mrs. K, I can't believe he didn't do the same to you!”

She narrowed her eyes even more, and Eddie tugged at his shirtsleeve. “Rich, drop it.”

Richie did. He didn't like the tight lines around his eyes, making him older – still hot, but older. More tired. It was the same expression he wore at sixteen every night Richie had found him in front of his front door, with a backpack and a beg on his lips. God, Eddie didn't deserve this shit again.

Later that day, after a hurried lunch with a slice of pizza – Eddie couldn't take immediately time off, so their talk had been delayed – and a more tense too early dinner with Eddie's wife, Eddie went to talk with his boss on the phone, demanding a vacancy for family matters. He made him rest on the couch, gave him a blanket even if there was a fucking terrible heat outside, while he disappeared in what it should have been his and his wife's bedroom.

His wife was with him, and Richie immediately heard when Eddie stopped talking to his boss and started arguing with her. He didn't catch all of their words, but then she shouted something like, “Is it his fault that you are treating me like this for weeks, Eddie?”, and really, call him a son of a bitch, but he really didn't care that they are at loggerheads because of him. He would gladly take the blame – the merit – of Eddie's blown up marriage. And actually, hearing Eddie's voice coming angry and skittish, screaming that “Richie needs me, I am his best friend!” and groaning when she cried and said to him with a teared up voice “and I am your wife!” from the other side of the apartment was easing his nerves, lulling him into a sleep that for weeks wasn't coming to him at all.

❀  read the rest on ao3!

[collabwithmyself]

Interlude: Just Like Me

"Did you SEE THAT?!" Maya crowed, leaping off the couch and onto her feet. "That was AWESOME!"

Miles was right behind her, flapping his hands as giddiness overtook him. "I can't take the suspense, Maya, I can't wait another week for this! We've been looking forward to this showdown all season!"

"YES! Did you see the way the Steel Samurai was so cool with his spear?!" Maya grabbed the nearby broom - Miles had abruptly abandoned his chores when they realized the show was about to start - and swung it haphazardly. "See you in Hell, Evil Magistrate," she said, her voice dropping into a deeper register Miles wasn't even aware she was capable of. He stopped trying to grab the broom from her to correct her technique, flabbergasted.

"How in the world did you just do that?"

"Huh?" Maya blinked. "Do what?"

"Th-That! With your voice!"

"Ohhh..." Maya grinned mischeviously. "A girl has her ways."

The pair stood there for a second.

Two.

"Okay, it's a lot harder than it used to be, since I've been doing voice training and all," Maya admitted in a rush, unable to contain herself.

"Why would vocal training make changing your voice harder?" Miles wondered aloud. "...Why would you need vocal training in the first place, in fact?"

The answer cracked him over the head like a wooden rod. No, wait, that was Maya fooling around with the broom again.

"NGHOOH!"

"Whoops!"

Miles rubbed the swelling knot on his forehead, grimacing. "What was that for?"

"Hee... Cain instinct?"

"What? Where do you get these words?"

"Internet."

"Who is giving you access to the internet? Don't you live on a mountain?"

"I usually use Mia's computer whenever I visit to look at stuff," Maya said matter-of-factly.

There was something else he wanted to ask, but it had been very rudely interrupted by Maya whacking him. He racked his brain, retracing his mental steps. She was messing with the broom because they were talking about the Steel Samurai, and Maya had made herself sound sort of like the Steel Samurai, and she brought up voice training when Miles asked... aha!

"Maya, what did you mean earlier by vocal training?"

Maya stiffened, clutching the broom. "I was hoping I hit you hard enough you forgot about that."

"Wha-- why would you--" Miles was bewildered. "You hit me on purpose so I'd forget I asked you a question?"

"Yeah! Let's talk about that! I'm such a card, aren't I?" Maya gave him a toothy grin.

"Maya."

Maya puffed up her cheeks and then let out her breath with a noisy sputter of her lips. Her arms drooped, and the broom slid out of her hands and onto the floor. "Can't you just drop it, My? It's nothing important."

The curious part of him yearned to know what Maya was hiding, even though he had a decent hunch. The rest of him, however, felt regret at seeing Maya so dejected. He cleared his throat awkwardly and sat back down on the couch.

"Right. I... I'm sorry."

...perhaps there was something he could do that might be able to coax the story out of her, but if he was wrong, he'd be baring a particularly vulnerable part of himself to someone he still didn't know all that well. Maya didn't seem like the type to be hurtful, but she'd lived in a village with heavy gender roles her whole life, and he wasn't sure if he was mentally prepared to walk her through the basics if need be.

Eventually, he settled on saying, "I had an odd voice when I was younger, too."

Maya perked up. "You have an odd voice now," she said almost immediately.

Miles spluttered. "I do not," he protested.

"Nghooooh," Maya groaned. Miles took a cushion from the couch and chucked it at her.

Once she stopped cackling, she leaned on the couch with an expression Miles hoped was intrigue. "Okay, okay. Tell me about your weird voice."

"Well, it could... very easily be called feminine, I suppose." He folded his hands in his lap as he carefully picked his words. "I had to go through a lot of effort to make it sound the way I wanted it to."

Maya was wearing an expression he couldn't quite read, looking like she was somehow simultaneously staring at him and through him.

"So I, erm," Miles mumbled, all too aware of how little he'd thought this through, "understand what it's like. To be unhappy enough with your voice to want to change it. And I, er, I'm glad you're comfortable."

An extremely awkward silence filled the room, stretching longer and longer. Miles began to fidget in place, squeezing his hands together before releasing, squeeze-release, squeeze-release--

"I'm trans."

Miles stiffened. "O... Oh?" he managed, wincing at how terribly desperate he sounded.

Maya wound a piece of hair around her finger. "Yeah, I realized that being a boy sucked one day, and I wanted to be a girl instead. So I am a girl."

"I don't know," Miles mumbled, tensing, "I found the concept rather appealing."

It took her a moment, but then her jaw dropped. "Wait, you--?!"

He folded his arms across his chest, giving himself a firm squeeze. "I haven't known anyone like myself since I was nine years old," he admitted.

Maya chose this moment to hurl herself over the back of the couch and flatten Miles in something approaching a hug, but was really just a mess of flailing limbs.

"NGOOOH!!"

"I've never met ANYBODY like me before!" Maya shouted, ecstatic. "Do you have any idea what it's like being the only trans person in an entire village that still doesn't even grasp the concept of gay couples?"

"I can only imagine," Miles wheezed. "Please get off my stomach."

Maya chose instead to somehow drop even more of her weight onto him. Miles coughed.

"It's like destiny we met or something, My! This is incredible!"

"I-I don't... wait, aren't only women born with spiritual powers in your village?"

"The spirits said trans rights," Maya said sternly.

They stared at each other.

Then they both started laughing.

Maya collapsed fully against Miles, wheezing as she tried to catch her breath. "Hoo, yeah... once I figured out I was a girl, I was like, I wanna be a spirit medium! Because that's what women in Kurain Village do, y'know? And it turns out, bam, I've got spiritual powers! I think it's probably the only reason anybody in the village actually takes my identity seriously!"

Miles's grin slipped off his face. "Ah... that's..."

But Maya seemed unperturbed. "I think my Aunt Morgan thinks I turned myself into a girl specifically to spite her, which, while a hilarious concept--"

"Maya," Miles said firmly, "you deserve a more accepting environment than that."

Maya deflated. "Yeah, well, it's the best I'm gonna get," she sighed.

"Well, I can say with certainty that you're a woman regardless of whether you can channel spirits."

Maya was silent, resting her face on Miles's shoulder.

"...thanks," she finally mumbled into him.

Miles awkwardly patted her on the back. "Er... yes."

[harper-hook]

Exploration | Harry Hook x Reader

Prompt: # 90 “That’s hot.” “It is?” “Yeah, makes me wonder...” “Wonder what?” “What else you’re hiding.” #95 “Can I kiss you now?” 

Warnings: Mentions of sex

Author’s Note: This story would’ve been out a long time ago if it hadn’t gotten deleted twice. WTF Tumblr?!

It was a slow night at Ursula’s Fish and Chips shop. You drummed your fingers on the table, scanning the room out of habit. A few members of the crew were playing cards at some side tables and some were in the middle of the floor, wrestling and carrying on. 

The chair next to you scraped the floor and Uma plopped down. “This is so fucking boring.” She complained, resting her head in the palm of her hand. “You got that right.” You scanned the room again, stopping on the wrestle match in the middle. 

It was Harry and Gil in the ring, all sweaty and panting. You smiled when Harry looked up and made brief eye contact. He grinned and finally muscled Gil out of the ring. You laughed and clapped as the rest of the crew raised up, cheering. Harry’s next victim joined him in the ring and you turned your attention back to Uma. 

You really didn’t like the look she was giving you. “So,” She started. “Are you guys gonna hook up or what?” Your mouth fell open, spluttering for a response. “Cause if you need help, I’ll gladly help.” She smirked, looking a bit too pleased with herself. 

“Uma!” You hissed, motioning for her to keep her voice down. She just cackled in response. Harry loved to embarrass you by being overdramatic and flirting with you in front of the entire crew. At first, it bothered you but now you really looked forward to it. A little too forward to it.

“Just tell him you’ve got nipple piercings and he’ll jump you.” She snickered. “Oh my God, will you shut up?” You groaned, banging your head on the table. It had been a good idea at the time but trying to keep them from getting infected without proper medicine that the Isle lacked? Not so good.

“Hi Uma. (Y/N).” Gil greeted, sitting down on the other side of you. “What’s wrong?” He asked, concerned. “Nothing, Gil. She’s just moody.” Uma giggled. You rolled your eyes, picking your head up. “Moody about her nipples?” Gil asked, confused now.

You inhaled a sharp breath, whipping your head to face him. “How did you know that?!” You snapped, clenching your fists. “I was standing right behind you guys.” He replied cheerfully. You willed yourself not to get pissed, it was Gil for fuck’s sake. Barely an evil bone in his body. 

“What else did you hear?” You asked through gritted teeth, proud that you kept your calm tone. “Nothing else.” He shrugged. You were immediately relieved. Gil was Harry’s best friend and if Gil found out, Harry would know before the hour was up.

You turned back to Uma who had the decency to look a bit guilty. “My bad.” She laughed. 

“‘Ey.” Wow, fate just really loved testing you. “What’s up with ye lot?” Harry swaggered up, all sweaty from being in the ring. “Nothing.” The three of you chorused. Harry’s eyes narrowed before he sat on top of the table, eventually strewing himself out in front of you. 

“Heard you squawkin’ a fit over here, luv. Made me lose my match.” Harry hummed. You flushed, not realizing how loud you were. “So what were ya talking about?” He addressed the three of you. “Nothing.” “Nothing.” “(Y/N)’s nipple rings.” Gil announced through a mouthful of food.

You let out an embarrassed shriek as Uma shouted at Gil, making Harry roar with laughter. You covered your face with your hands as Uma snapped at Gil to get out and Harry was wheezing with laughter. 

“Really, luv?” Harry asked, pulling your hands away. “Stop.” You whined, pulling your hands away. “It must be true. Yer red like a tomato.” He snickered. You growled and shoved Harry off the table, him landing on the floor with an ‘oomph!’.

You practically pushed your chair over as you stormed out of the Shoppe, Uma yelling for you to come back. You ignored her and Gil’s attempt at apologizing while you were still pissed, and made your way back to the ship.

---

You dropped your shoes and coat on the floor by the door, done with this night. You just wanted to crawl into bed and die. 

You had just gotten comfortable and shut your eyes when your door slammed open, making you practically jump out of your skin. You shot up and faced Harry who was standing in your doorway like it was a normal everyday thing. 

You had just gotten comfortable and shut your eyes when your door slammed open, making you practically jump out of your skin. You shot up and faced Harry who was standing in your doorway like it was a normal everyday thing. 

“Get out.” You frowned, crossing your arms. Harry snorted. “Not a chance, sweetheart. We got some unfinished business.” It was clear what he meant, if his eyes flickering down to your chest didn’t tell you.

Harry took his sweet time, throwing his jacket on top of yours and walking over to you. You swallowed your nerves as you looked up at him. “Can I kiss you now?” He asked roughly. “Yes...” You whispered as Harry tilted your chin up and pressed his lips to yours.

He moved slowly against your lips at first, getting faster as the need for air grew. Finally, he pulled away, sucking on your bottom lip. He smiled at you. “Holy shit...” You breathed out, trying to catch your breath. He chuckled, gently pushing on your shoulders.

You rested on your elbows as Harry crawled on top of you, his knee brushing between your legs, making your breath catch. He grinned maliciously, ‘accidentally’ doing it again.

Harry dipped his head down, kissing on your collarbone. You threw your head back in a moan, your hands reaching for his blindly. You pulled his hands to the bottom of your shirt, helping drag the bottom of your shirt up.

Harry grinned, you returning it albeit a bit nervous. You raised up to help him with your shirt. The cool air made your nipple harden even further. “Damn...” Harry murmured, running a hand over your right nipple as gently as he could. 

 He turned the rings over, looking at the small silver balls on either end. His left giving it the same treatment. You jerked as he twisted one a bit too fast. “Easy...” You whimpered, desperately wanting his knee back between your legs. 

Harry finally pulled away, satisfied by his thorough inspection. “That’s hot.” He told you, nodding his head in confirmation. “It is?” You smirked. “Yeah, makes me wonder...” He trailed. “Wonder what?” “What else you’re hiding.” 

Harry attacked your lips with a new vigor. You eagerly returned it, trying to tug Harry’s shirt over his head. “Shit.” You groaned as he ground his hard on against you.

“Stop.” Harry ordered, making you stop in your tracks. Harry lowered one foot to the floor and started unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants and boxers down. You froze for a second before quickly following his lead. You pushed down your skirt and panties, barely kicking them off before Harry was on top of you again.

Harry brushed his lips over yours, bringing you into a sweet and gentle kiss before he pushed his length into you. “Fuck!” You hissed, arching your back. Harry hissed at the cold metal against his chest. 

Harry paused, letting you adjust to him. You blushed heavily as he brushed some stray hair off your forehead, licking and blowing on your collarbone. You shivered.

Then it was like he did a 180. He pulled back, smirking over your naked form. “This,” He reached down and pinched your nipple, making you howl. “Is mine, all mine. You are all mine.” He growled possessively. “Yes!” You panted.

He grinned and slammed back into you, setting a fast pace. You cursed and swore, clawing Harry's back as he didn't let up. "Harry, I'm gonna-" You cut yourself off with a moan as you came, hard. Your vision swirled as Harry finally took mercy on you and paused. 

Harry tsked, looking over you like a cat that caught the canary. "You always were a sensitive one, eh Dolly?" To punctuate, he flicked your nipple. Throat sore and shredded, you just trembled. 

"Round two." Harry muttered, this time throwing your legs up over his shoulders. You actually shrieked as he reentered you, going for a slower but deeper pace. "You're gonna come for me again." He declared. You felt like your nerves were on fire, overstimulated. 

"Can't... can't..." Your hoarse voice echoed in-between the sounds of slapping skin. For a moment, you forgot who you were dealing with. Harry didn't give up. Ever. 

"You can." Harry said. "You can and will." He reached a hand down your folds and found your sensitive bud."Right now!" Harry's voice shook as his release came closer and closer. You screamed again, tiding out your second wave of ecstasy as black dots slowly clouded your vision.

--

You blinked slowly, raising up ever so slightly. Your body was sore and felt like a big bruise. You groaned, catching Harry's attention. "Easy lass." He gently pulled you to him and pulled a sheet up to your waist's. 

"Thought I killed ya there." He laughed, a nervous edge to his voice. You giggled as Harry rested his chin on your head. "Never took you for a cuddler." You remarked. 

"I guess we have a lot more to learn about each other." He smirked. "Yeah." You said peacefully, relishing in his embrace.

[notveryglittery]

birthday prince (3)

summary: virgil decides roman deserves a day off.  words: 2,100 / ship: prinxiety (roman/virgil) author’s note: this is part three of my Giving The Gay Anything He Wants series for roman’s birthday (june 4)! all ships are written implied romantic but i’m not stopping you from interpreting it otherwise. check the end notes on ao3 for credit on these gifts (bc i don’t know where to put them in this post)! i hope you enjoy!!

part 1 (roceit) | part 2 (logince) | part 3 (prinxiety) part 4 (royality) | part 5 (dlampts)  read on ao3

— — —

“Best two out of three.”

“I thought this was a birthday gift!”

“Yes and?”

“So why don’t I automatically get to pick the first movie?”

“Because I know you’re on a princess kick and full offense, if I have to deal with a talking animal as the comedic relief sidekick, I might actually die.”

“... Okay. Fine, okay, that’s fair.”

“On shoot.”

One, two, three, shoot — Virgil’s scissors versus Roman’s paper meant that the birthday boy did, in fact, not get to pick the first movie. He feigned upset for only a few moments longer before flopping back into their pillow fort. He supposed, given all the hard work Virgil had put into this, he could put up with one non-princess Disney film.

Earlier in the day, Virgil had rather unceremoniously kicked Roman out of his own room, claiming he had something important to do. Were it not for how close they’d grown, Roman would have been upset and suspicious; he trusted Virgil now, though, and knew that nothing would go wrong. He’d spent an hour playing cards with Logan and Patton before Virgil shouted for him from upstairs. When he’d arrived back to his room, it looked almost unrecognizable. It was mostly illuminated by fairy lights, providing a cozier feel than what he was used to; the floor to ceiling windows looked out into a rainy forest instead of the usual rolling hills; his bed had been turned into a truly impressive collection of blankets, pillows, cushions, and stuffed animals. The canopy had been removed which bothered him a little but only until he realized the projector that had been set up, pointing at the ceiling. There was a basket at the foot of the bed, filled with snacks and bottled drinks. Roman figured they could stay here for the next twenty four hours and be perfectly fine.

Surrounded by what was possibly every soft thing to be found in the Mindscape, Roman clutched Mrs. Fluffybottom to his chest as Virgil got the movie set up. She’d been his favorite plushie for the entirety of his existence; he’d taken her on many adventures over the years but she’d comforted him through a number of breakdowns too. He swore there was actually something magical about her.

Virgil threw himself down next to Roman; he had swapped out his usual hoodie for one that was fully dark purple and had even longer sleeves. After Roman had stopped gawking around his room, Virgil had tossed a sweater at him. It was so bright it was practically neon but it was rainbow print and he loved it. He’d immediately changed out of his t-shirt and had grabbed Virgil in a tight hug. Roman definitely intended on starting a sweater paw fight at some point during their movie marathon.

“You good with Hercules?”

“No comedic relief sidekicks, huh?”

“Phil is not a sidekick!”

“What? Are you trying to tell me right now that Philoctetes is a main character? You can’t say he isn’t comedic relief! He gets hurt just for laughs way too often!”

“No! I mean. Maybe?”

Roman laughed, bumping his shoulder against Virgil’s. “Whatever, you dork. Of course I’m good with it. You could have picked The Black Cauldron and I would’ve been good.”

“Talking animal. Comic relief. Sidekick. Gurgi checks all of those boxes. I would’ve been going against my own word.”

“Hmm, fair,” Roman said, humming a little.

As the Muses began singing them through the opening, Roman took a moment to appreciate everything Virgil was doing for him. The basket of goodies was stocked with every one of Roman’s favorite snacks, including enough chocolate to make him sick. In fact, it’d been the first thing he’d decided on, before Virgil could even tell him what the plan for the day was. Not that it was really much of a plan, anyway. Today specifically had been set aside just for Virgil to spoil Roman however he wanted. That apparently meant marathoning Disney movies, napping as much as they pleased, and eating all the junk food they wanted. It was a far cry from how Roman usually spent his time; what with all of the projects he was constantly juggling, or the content he had to help Thomas produce, or the issues to take care of in the Fantasy Realm. He didn’t really realize even how hard he was always working.

Apparently, however, Virgil had.

Something was shoved into his face, startling him out of his thoughts. He shot a glare at Virgil, who was watching the movie and acting totally inconspicuous. The item turned out to be a stuffed dragon, one he didn’t recognize from his usual pile of plushies. The scales were shimmery, a nice ombre of purple and blue shades, the wings were tucked against the body, and… Holding his hand against the stomach was warmer than the rest, as if it had a belly full of fire. That was so cool! He squeezed it tight in his arms and went back to watching the movie, feeling even comfier than before.

With the credits rolling, Virgil ushered them both out of bed and into a couple minutes of stretching.

“I’m not having you complain to me later on when your bones start creaking.”

“You make it sound like I’m so old, Virgil!”

“Older than me,” Virgil teased. He ducked out of the way of a thrown cushion. “Oh, is that what we’re doing?!”

Roman took a face full of pillow and suddenly it was on. He couldn’t begin to guess how long they fought for, darting around the room and over the bed, swinging their feather-filled weapons at each other. He did know that by the time he collapsed on the floor, he was breathless with laughter. Virgil was so far gone that he’d dissolved into alternating between wheezes and complete silence. Eventually, they did manage to get back into their nest of blankets, though there was plenty of shoving, poking, and tickling as they did so.

“I dunno if I’ll make it through this next movie so pick one that I won’t mind falling asleep during.”

“You besmirch the name of Disney if you think there’s a single film boring enough to allow that!”

“You dozed off the first time we watched The Good Dinosaur.”

Roman spluttered. “I had just come back from a week-long quest! And that’s Pixar!”

Virgil actually cackled. “You can’t pull that excuse! Disney owns Pixar!”

“Stop bullying me,” Roman cried, “it’s my birthday!”

“It’s two days before your birthday, actually, so I can bully you all I like.”

“I’m picking The Black Cauldron, then! See how you like dozing off during your favorite movie.”

It perhaps hadn’t been his best choice. With Virgil snuggled into his side, warm and soft, the sound of his even breathing accompanying the utter lack of any songs… Well, Roman really didn’t last much longer. They found each other in the Dreamscape. Edges were fuzzy, sounds were muffled, and touch was electric. The Dream Palace was a blurry shape in the distance, attracting his attention every so often when its crystal spires caught the light. Virgil sort of just appeared, as if created from the colors of the setting sun. Roman had a feeling he was made of the field of flowers he’d woken up in.

“I like it here,” Virgil said, sitting down next to Roman.

“Remy does a nice job with it,” Roman agreed, slowly picking daisies and dandelions to weave into a crown.

“You do, too,” Virgil argued. “You have a hand in almost everything, you know.”

Roman frowned at him. “I do not.”

“Yes, Ro,” Virgil insisted, “you do. The Memory Archives look the way that they do because you and Logan watched one episode of Doctor Who together and had the inspiration to redesign.”

Roman chuckled, a little nervously. “I guess.”

“Memory Lane doesn’t hurt Patton because it knows better than to hurt anyone you love. It might be connected to him and his room, but you’re the one that created that safety net.”

“Virgil…” Roman tried, voice slightly strangled.

“I just need you to know how important you are. You aren’t told enough.”

“It’s fine—”

“You’re important, Roman. You matter. You make a difference.”

Roman finally stopped trying to tie together the stems of the flowers. Virgil took his shaking hands into his own and held them tightly. It was just enough that Roman could actually feel it versus the tingly sensation that the Dreamscape normally worked with.

“We love you. We appreciate you and your hard work.”

If it weren’t for that everything around them was already blurry, Roman might not have noticed his vision swimming when tears filled his eyes. It was hard to not know suddenly that he was crying, though, regardless of how physically present he was in this space.

Virgil let go of his hands and instead, cradled his face gently. “I know I go against you sometimes but in the long run, I want you to be just as happy as you make the rest of us.”

He waited a moment longer before smiling and squishing Roman’s cheeks. Roman giggled a bit in response. Virgil gave him two careful pats before pulling away. Picking up the flower crown Roman had abandoned, he set to work on finishing it. Roman wiped his tears away and sat still in the sunshine, content to simply let himself soak it up until he was completely warm from the inside out.

When they woke, the screen projected onto the ceiling was displaying a screensaver of 3D pipes. The forest outside the windows had been replaced with a cliffside view of the ocean. Virgil stirred next to him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He absentmindedly pressed a kiss to Roman’s cheek before getting out of bed. He was gone for a little while, during which Roman found two more plushies that he didn’t recognize. They were a gryphon and a lion, both extremely soft to the touch, and with fierce expressions that reminded Roman of how Virgil looked when he was in fight mode. He wondered how these new stuffed animals kept sneaking into his collection but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

When Virgil returned, Roman burst into laughter, because yes, he supposed there was no chance of sneaking that one into the pile.

“There won’t be any room for me in bed, Virgil!”

“Guess you better get used to sleeping on the floor then,” Virgil said, dropping the massive Simba plushie on top of Roman.

This just made Roman laugh harder. The fabric on this one was fluffier than on the others, something he could sink his fingers into if he wanted. It was nearly as big as him, or maybe it just felt like that right now since it was smothering him. Before he could move it, though, Virgil sank himself down onto it as well.

“Virgil!!” Roman gasped between snickers. “Get off, you fiend!”

“Hmm…” Virgil hummed, pondering. From where he was laying, he could just barely look directly into Roman’s eyes. This made it all the funnier when he finally decided, in the most deadpan tone, “nah.”

After some wrestling, which led to them both falling out of bed and Roman bumping his elbow and howling for five minutes about his funny bone before Virgil kissed it better, they were finally settled back in to continue their movie marathon.

They watched Moana, Tarzan, and, Mary Poppins before sleep began to take them once more. Seeing as the sun had sunk below the sea quite some time ago, it was safe to assume it was late enough to call it a night.

“I got you…” Virgil paused to yawn. “Got you one more thing…”

“Vee—”

“‘S not much.” He held out Mrs. Fluffybottom for Roman to take. “I just… I made it so that she can never be hurt.”

For a moment, Roman’s lethargy was chased away by astonishment and surprise. He could feel the enchantment just from holding her, though it was passing by the second as the magic was fully absorbed.

“I know you… take her on adventures a lot. Fightin’ bad guys ‘n stuff.” Virgil shifted further into the blankets as sleep continued to take hold on him. “Wanna keep her safe. Know you will, anyway. But jus’ in case.”

Roman rolled onto his side so that he was facing Virgil. He kept the bunny plush tucked between them and took one of Virgil’s hands in his. “Thank you…”

“Love you. Happy birthday, princey,” Virgil told him, papping him once more on the cheek.

Sleep settled over them quickly after. Roman would wake in the morning, feeling more secure and warm than he had in quite some time, surrounded by plushies and Virgil’s arms, and know that he had so much to be grateful for.

[awkwardbluefish]

Blue, my lovely and darling Blue, can I request fluffy, brotherly love between Dick and Jason? I would love you forever and ever ♾

-Thorne

I have done the fluff!!! Love you Thorne <3

And I hope this is acceptable brotherly bonding for you!

“That is a dog.”

“Yes,” Dick agrees as if this is the most normal thing on earth. It wasn’t. Normal is aliens ambushing earth, normal is fifty story buildings blowing up on a Monday morning, normal is catching Harley Quinn and Pamela Isley making out on a giant red rose during Valentine’s day in the middle of Robinsons Park. A puppy with three legs chewing on a sock still attached to Dick’s foot is not normal. It was pretty darn cute though.

“A dog,” Jason repeats, trying to get his brother to see reason, “there’s a whole dog in your lap.” Well, it wasn’t a whole dog, not technically. It’s lost a bit of weight but Jason wasn’t going to be the asshole to point it out. Being an asshole to people is easy, being an asshole to animals is just illegal.

“There is,” Dick agrees again, dimples popping out as a large smile crosses his lips. He coos at the puppy in his lap, fingers gentle as they scratch against grey fur. Apparently the grey and white pup enjoys that, little tail wagging so fast it was just a blur of motion.

Jason blinks, shrugs and tosses a glock 17 onto Dick’s pizza-stained couch. There was no way he was just going to stand there when there was a perfectly pet-able puppy right in front of him. The puppy yelps, the sound adorably pathetic as she trips, snout connecting to cream coloured carpet. Jason winches in sympathy and Dick is quick to cradle the thing in his arms, rubbing his cheek against a fluffy belly as the girl immediately forgets her distress, instead going for his hair with little white teeth.

“I think you’ve been spending too much time with the brat,” Jason says, lowering himself to the floor slowly as to not scare the poor thing away. He hadn’t needed to worry, as the puppy just continues to wiggle is Dick’s grasp, nipping at his ear playfully.

Dick opens his mouth, brows furrowing in a way Jason knows is a lecture. “Jason, he isn’t-” He doesn’t get far, as a pink slobbery tongue worms it way into Dick’s mouth, quickly followed by a curious snout. Dick guffaws, spluttering and face scrunching up in pure disgust. The puppy lands in his lap, stump of the tail wagging excitedly as Dick wipes at his face with his shirt, muttering under his breath.

Offering no form of support, Jason just cackles, hand on the left side of his chest as he wheezes. God, he already fuckin’ loved this dog. Wheezing he pulls the mask covering his eyes off, skin pulling at the act. Ouch. And that was exactly why he wore a hood. He didn’t have a chance of loosing his fuckin’ eyebrows that way at least. He better haggle Timbers later, but right now, it was puppy time.

“Com’ere girl,” Jason croons gently, holding his backhand out for the girl to sniff. He doesn’t miss the slight whimper at the action, and he frowns internally. He has a feeling he knows exactly how Dick managed to find this girl. Animal abusers or a dog ring. None of them were better than the other.

With trembling hind legs Jason and a now calmer Dick both watch the girl meekly making her way across to Jason. Her legs tremble and Jason smiles encouragingly, easily noting the slight struggle it is for the girl to walk with her three legs.

It takes a minute of Jason’s soft croons and Dicks encouraging whispers for the pup to finally sniff Jason’s hand, but it only takes less than ten second for the pup to scamper onto Jason’s lap and paw at his stomach. Grinning he pets the pup, fingers carding through her thin fur in victory. Nothing was better than an animal accepting your affection and Jason would fight anyone who said otherwise.

“She likes you!” Dick grins and Jason smirks, puffing out his chest in victory. The boasting effect was surely affected with a puppy sticking it nose under Jason’s tank top and sniffing at his skin but hey, you win some you lose some.

“Of course she does, she has good taste after all.” Jason praises, gently prying the pup from under his shirt. The small puff of breaths were starting to tickle and there was no way he was going to let Dick know he was ticklish of all things. “Now let me name her.”

“What?” Dick cries, “How do you know I haven’t already named her? Besides she’s my dog!”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You are the least organised person I know. And I live with Roy. Besides if on the off chance you have actually named her I’m changing it immediately. This girl has been put through enough without your hideous name making skills to scar her further.”

Dick levels a glare at him. “Name one time I’ve named something something stupid!”

Internally he snorts. Seriously? “Easy. You called yourself Robin. You named everything Batman related bat something. You also called yourself Disco-Wing when you went through your rebellious faze. I’m not letting you name this precious fuckin’ pup something stupid.”

Dick doesn’t argue, which is slightly surprising. Instead he just pouts, folding his arms across his chest and giving Jason the puppy dog eyes. Well jokes on him, there’s a real puppy right in front of him and it’s easy to see which set of eyes were cuter. So Jason dramatically rolls his eyes, holding the girl by her belly and lifting her to his face. A pink tongue wets his nose and Jason scrunches it up in reflex, glaring playfully at the wriggling puppy.

“None of that now. This is an important naming ceremony!” His voice is an octave higher than usual and he can’t even be bothered to be embarrassed about it when Dick laughs at him. “Hmm Jessie? Nah, that doesn’t really suit ya. Rachel maybe?”

Dick scoots forwards, stealing the pup from his hands to cradle her on his lap. Jason sends him a scowl. “Like Rachel from friends?”

“What about it?”

Dick shrugs, burying his face into grey fur. “I dunno,” his voice is muffled with fluff, breaking between giggles as the pup tries to twist in his grip to lick at his face. “Doesn’t seem to suit her.”

Jason sighs, rolls his shoulders and grimaces at the crack that follows it. God he was getting old. Couldn’t he age gracefully like Alfie? “Yeah, I guess you’re right. What about Haley?”

A small yap escapes the pup and Jason grins at the butt shaking dog. “Haley huh? Is that your name little girly?’” Haley barks again, the sound as small as her. Dick and Jason share a grin.

Dick lifts Haley to face him, full on grinning as Haley laps at his cheeks. “Welcome to the family Haley!”

“Its batshit crazy girl but you’ll fit right on in.” Jason tells the wiggling pup, scratching under the chin. “Damian is gonna love you and I just know Timbers is gonna take one look at ya and get right onto making a prosthetic for that stump you have there.”

Dick nods very seriously, cuddling Haley close. “Cass will love you and Stephanie will steal Bruce’s credit card to buy you everything you need and more! Ace and Titus are going to be so excited to have a baby sister! Let me tell you this Haley, they are big as a horse but as goofy as, well, Goofy!” Haley yelps, physically shaking with excitement. As Dick brings the pup closer to his chest, leaning down to murmur to the girl, Jason smiles. “Everyone’s going to love you Haley!”

Jason doesn’t even mind that his helmet is going to be put on the back burner.

[wxlfstxrx]

you drive me nuts (oneshot)

so I received a prompt from @gaeilgelupin to have two of the boys bickering over something stupid while the third just watches and laughs. naturally (or should i say nut-urally), Finn seemed like the kind of arsehole who would just obnoxiously laugh as Logan and Leo argued :")

if you can't tell, there are gonna be bad puns made here. i'm not even sorry.

lots of swearing too. that, I'm sorry about. I couldn't help myself. also, it's a kinda silly oneshot but I had a shit start of the week and I needed some comic relief. just... just humour me, please.

characters by @lumosinlove.

read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24627019

The front door to Finn and Leo’s apartment slammed open with a bang, and Logan saw Finn jump from where he was lying sideways on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

“Hey—” He started, propped up on an elbow and turning his body halfway to face them, but neither Logan nor Leo paid any notice as they continued bickering.

“I know it’s meant to be a joke, I’m not fucking sensi,” Leo rolled his eyes as he bent down and yanked his worn out white converses off his feet, almost losing balance and gripping onto the wall for support.

Logan snorted, peeling off his black denim jacket. “Well, you’re certainly acting that way, aren’t you?”

“Guys, wha—” Finn started again, but was startled by a loud slam of the bathroom door.

His eyebrows were raised high behind his floppy red hair as he regarded Logan with wide brown eyes. What’s up with him? He mouthed.

Logan rolled his eyes. “He’s pissed because I keep making nut jokes.”

Finn’s face broke into an amused grin.

“Yeah?” He choked out, trying and failing to school his expression into a neutral one.

“Mmhm, and he’s being overly melodramatic about it,” Logan responded, raising his voice intentionally as he leaned on the wall just beside the bathroom door.

“Fuck, Logan,” The bathroom door slammed open, and Leo had the grace to wince and gently pull the door shut as he stepped back out into the living room. 

He closed in on Logan, his eyes glinting dangerously again.

“I fucking swear, if you start again…”

“Yeah? What, you’ll go nuts?” Logan drawled, folding his arms and leaning against the wall.

“What the fuck,” Finn laughed in surprise, as though he couldn’t believe his eyes and ears. Logan glanced at him and winked, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

Leo shoved him hard in the shoulder, forcing him to snap his gaze back to the tall, livid boy.

“You’ve been— You’ve been at it the whole bloody afternoon!” He cried exasperatedly. “I don’t know how I haven’t socked you in the jaw yet, to be honest.”

“I guess you could say,” Logan paused for dramatic effect. “That you’re simply a tough nut to crack.”

Leo groaned, about five different expressions flickering across his face in rapid succession, and he ran a hand across his face, choosing not to respond. He turned to head towards the kitchen, picking up the groceries that he had dumped unceremoniously on the floor as he went.

“Of course, I’m sure you’ve heard lots of those over the years, haven’t you?” Logan taunted, arms propped on top of the kitchen counter as Leo silently fumed, unpacking all the groceries and stowing them away.

“Funnily enough, I haven’t. You lot are the first. Shows what a bunch of hooligans you all are, really,” Leo snarled, but Logan detected an undercurrent of affection for the team, and he smiled wickedly.

“Oh, I bet there were many others with puns for your name, they just…” Logan shrugged, fixing Leo with a sympathetic pout. “Did nut tella, is all.”

Leo turned his head slowly, jaw dropped almost comically. Finn was sniggering from behind Logan.

“Come on, babe,” The redhead pitched in. “It walnut hurt for you to let loose a little, laugh with us once in a while. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, or whatever the fuck people say.”

Logan’s face split into a massive grin, whipping his head around to waggle his eyebrows at Finn.

Leo sighed tiredly. “For the last fucking time, my last name is pronounced as newt. Not nut.”

“Whatever do you mean it’s not pronounced as nut?” Logan gasped, a hand flying to his chest theatrically.

“Are you telling me, Logan Tremblay,” Leo’s eyes were narrowed, arms folded across his chest and staring Logan down. It would’ve been a right terrifying sight, if not for the fact that Logan, a full six inches shorter, was rising to the bait, decidedly undaunted by Leo’s massive height advantage. “That I don’t know how to pronounce my own last name?”

“I… No—”

“Then?”

“It was a joke,” Logan threw his hands up. He yanked his cap off, ran a hand through the flattened curls, and slammed it back onto his head.

“Well, it certainly isn’t funny,” Leo growled.

“God, this wasn’t supposed to make you angry. Was just tryna make you laugh, I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” Logan grumbled, turning and attempting to stalk off, but Leo had him cornered before he could even take a step. 

“You’re the one who started this, if you remember,” Leo glared menacingly. He waved his hands around as his voice rose, “Don’t go walking away now. I’m not done.”

Logan dared a glance at Finn, then scowled at the redhead’s still irritatingly gleeful expression. He rolled his eyes and looked back at Leo, pushing his shoulders back and straightening his back. He lifted his chin, giving Leo a challenging look.

Finn howled with laughter from where he had shifted on the couch, arse on the seat, one arm slung over the back of the couch and legs dangling over the side of the armrest. At both Leo and Logan’s warning looks, he clamped his hand over his mouth and shook with mirth.

Logan raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the blank wall behind him in an act of nonchalance. 

“You’re cute when you’re angry, y’know that?”

“Yeah? Then I’m about to get really fucking adorable.” Leo spat.

“Ooookay,” Now both of Logan’s eyebrows were raised, eyes hesitant as he craned his neck to look at him. “What crawled up your arse?”

He could feel the anger radiating off Leo in waves, even as he stood completely still, stormy blue eyes locked with his own bright green orbs. 

Logan swallowed nervously, suddenly realising just how close they were standing. His eyes flickered down to Leo’s full lips and back up to meet his gaze again. If he was being completely honest with himself, he had only continued riling the taller boy up because of how bloody hot he was when he was angry. He hadn’t expected the other boy to get so upset.

But then something flashed in Leo’s eyes, and he took a step closer, bringing one hand to the wall beside Logan’s head, and leaned closer so they were almost nose to nose. He pushed his hips forward so he just brushed against Logan’s rapidly filling erection. 

Ever so slowly, he lifted his other hand up, tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his lips. He ran his tongue along his middle finger, and Logan found that he couldn’t look away from those intense blue eyes even as he saw Leo’s tongue swirling around the tip from his peripheral vision. Leo tilted his head down so he was looking at Logan through his lashes, and Logan had to bite back a moan. 

Fuck, he was so hard.

His eyes widened and he inhaled sharply as Leo plunged his entire finger into his mouth, and Logan broke eye contact, gaze snapping down to watch, open mouthed, as Leo sucked on his own finger, sensually, alluringly, unashamedly. Logan vaguely heard a soft holy fuck from the couch, but his mind was so foggy with lust that he could barely focus on anything else besides his pounding heartbeat ringing in his ears and Leo’s sinfully gorgeous mouth that was still licking and sucking on his long, slim finger.

After several tense moments, when Logan thought he couldn’t hold back any longer, his hands itching to grab Leo by the front of his hoodie and kiss him senseless, Leo pulled his finger out of his mouth, wet with saliva. His lips were shiny and red, and when Logan peered up into Leo’s eyes, the fierce, and frankly insanely sexy look that he received made him weak in the knees.

The blonde boy finally smirked then, one corner of his lips pulling up as his expression changed. He looked… Animalistic. Hungry.

Logan shivered.

Leo turned his wrist from where his hand was still inches away from his lips, such that the back of his hand faced the shorter boy. He lifted his middle finger, which was still slick, and raised a blonde eyebrow. 

“Nothing, and best believe nothing will be up yours either, unless you shut your pretty mouth.”

The silence was deafening for a heartbeat or two, after which Finn burst out laughing, gasping for breath as he clutched his stomach. Seemingly satisfied, Leo turned and strode off into the kitchen as Logan spluttered in confusion.

“Wha— What the fuck?” 

“Fucking hell, babe, I fucking love you,” Finn wheezed, receiving a hum of agreement from the kitchen in response as the refrigerator door opened and closed.

“Merde,” Logan groaned, letting the back of his head thunk against the wall. He pressed his palm to his now obvious erection, willing it to subside as his cheeks flamed. 

“You good there, Lo? Or has our baby Leo right there finally gotten you speechless?” Finn looked like Christmas had come early for how big his grin was.

“Leo’s middle name should be ‘Tease’, fuck’s sake,” Logan muttered, sliding to the floor as he buried his face in his hands in shame.

“And I suppose yours would be ‘Blue Balls’,” Finn chortled. Logan just shook his head, mumbling in rapid French.

“What crawled up your arse, Logan ‘Blue Balls’ Tremblay?” Logan could practically hear the smirk in his voice. He lifted his head up and gave him a reproachful glare.

“Damn you, Nut.”

Finn cackled and pulled Leo, who was seated on the armrest of the couch, beside Finn’s legs, into a deep kiss. Leo reciprocated immediately, but leaned over to place his glass of orange juice on their coffee table to avoid any spillage. With both his hands now free, he slid his hands up the back of Finn’s neck and into his hair, running his fingers through the thick copper curls. Finn moaned as Leo broke the kiss abruptly, and Leo patted his cheek lightly, all anger from earlier seemingly forgotten.

Leo glanced at the clock above the television. “Alright, what should we have for dinner? Gotta start cooking soon if we wanna eat by six.”

“How the fuck can you even be thinking about dinner right now?” Logan asked incredulously. It was no use trying to control himself, his cock was hard and throbbing again.

Leo blinked. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Logan deadpanned. 

“Come on, you idiots. Bedroom. Now. Seeing you angry has gotten me all hot and bothered. I can only imagine how rough you’re gonna be,” Finn had an almost dazed and longing expression as he rolled off the couch, dragging Leo by the hand.

Logan made an approving noise as he made to follow them.

“Completely bonkers, the both of you,” Leo grumbled. “Absolutely nuts.”

Neither Finn nor Logan could hold in their raucous laughter as they doubled over, and Leo couldn’t help but smile too, shaking his head at his two lovers as he shut the door behind them.

[siren1song]

Gross

Summary: Okay so Andy is still stuck with a sentient zombie that he definitely doesn’t have the hots for. May as well make friends.

Word Count: 1,138

Notes: Hey, Ink here again with a part two of Ain’t No Rest because why the hell not?

Ao3 Link

“How badly do you want to eat?” Andy called over his shoulder, knowing Virgil was hovering ten feet away from him to avoid digging in to Andy’s tasty ass.

That sounded sexual, note to self don’t do that when you’re denying attraction to a corpse.

“Pretty. Badly. Why?” Virgil answered, his voice starting strong and growing weaker by the end, as if it was taking more and more effort for him to say less and less.

“I found this really fat fuckin’ horse, but I don’t know aren’t donkeys and horses related? Could be cannibalism.”

“Will you. Stop. Calling me. A donkey?” Virgil grumbled, shuffling close enough to get a good look at what Andy was prodding his walking stick at.

“Nah. If I can’t call you Betsy anymore I gotta settle for donkey. Can’t deny me all of my fun.”

Virgil grunted, shooting Andy a glare that only made him grin before focusing his attention on the horse.

“How are. You not. Throwing. Up?”

Andy shrugged, poking at the horse again and watching all the flies shoot up from the surface of its flesh.

“We’ve been in the middle of a zombie apocalypse for like three? Four years now? You get used to the smell of death.”

Another grunt, and Andy eyed Virgil for a second, confused when he just shuffled awkwardly in place.

“Please don’t tell me I have to find you a human corpse,” Andy groaned, feeling his heart drop into his stomach because he would not be able to handle knowing he let Virgil eat someone, dead or not.

“No. This is. Fine.”

He let out a sigh of relief, then waited a few more seconds before his confusion came back.

“Then why aren’t you eating?”

Virgil stared at the horse, one of his fingers fiddling with a hole in his hoodie pocket.

“Don’t like. Being watched.”

Andy blinked at that, then let out a snort he tried to smother before turning around.

“Shut. Up,” Virgil grumbled, making Andy snicker more as he heard Virgil’s footsteps in the leaves.

A sickening squelch filled the air, mixed with flies starting to buzz around Andy’s head and suddenly he realized Virgil was just trying to keep him from puking.

“So…” Andy tried, rubbing at his neck as he tried to figure out what to say.

Should he even have a conversation with a feasting zombie? Was that like… bad etiquette or something?

Virgil’s a fucking zombie why did that matter? Was there even zombie etiquette? God.

“So?” Virgil spoke up, and Andy had to resist the urge to look back at him.

“How long between eating do you have to go? It’s been a month of you following me I think? And I haven’t seen you eat and I have no idea if you ate before you started following me around so.”

Andy heard more squelching, this time quieter and not nearly as nauseating, before he got an answer.

“Dunno. I pushed it. This time. Though. Think it was. Two months. Since. I last ate.”

Andy hummed, rocking back on his heels while he thought and tried to ignore the sounds of Virgil eating horse meat behind him.

“Why’d you wait so long?”

Silence, not unlike what Andy was used to before he managed to get Virgil to start talking to him more. It was a little unsettling honestly.

“Didn’t want. To freak. You out.”

“How chivalrous,” Andy snarked, ignoring the way his mouth lifted up in a not giddy smile.

Still adamantly denying his attraction to a zombie, damn it.

“If you. Don’t care. Turn around.”

“Hard pass.”

Virgil snorted, making Andy’s grin grow just a little bit. Not that it was because of his laugh or anything.

No, he’d just thought of something funny.

Shut up.

“Are you able to eat meat thats like… super rotted? I might be able to help you eat more often if I’m not as limited to what I have to look for. Plus it’d make us competing for food not a thing, I think.”

Virgil seemed to ponder Andy’s question, the sound of him devouring the horse meat the only thing filling the air.

“Not. Sure. Haven’t. Tried.”

Andy tapped his fingers against his leg, eyes instinctively going to the ground to see if he could find anything.

“Would you be willing to try?” he asked, scanning the forest floor to see if maybe anything other than the horse got caught by death.

“Maybe. What are. You thinking?” Virgil asked, making Andy look at him with a grin.

Ignoring the gore surrounding Virgil’s face, he certainly made a sight, using his one pinky to pick out strands of tendon from his teeth.

Stop with the attraction, Andy.

“I’m gonna find the grossest thing and see if you’ll eat it.”

Virgil stared at him, unblinking in an unsettling way that Andy had gotten used to at this point.

“And you. Call me. The donkey.”

Andy spluttered out a laugh, letting his head fall back in a loud cackle he usually forced himself to keep in. Sound did attract other zombies, but they usually avoided him nowadays, with Virgil following him around.

“Yeah, I do. You’re the one who let me believe you couldn’t talk for like. Two weeks. Do you know how maddening the silence is when you’re by yourself?”

Virgil went quiet, looking down to the meat in his hands and Andy felt like his throat was closing up as he looked to the forest floor ahead of him again.

He’d said something he shouldn’t have and now shit was awkward.

“You still. Seem sane.”

Andy paused, then whirled around to face Virgil grabbing a rock to throw in his direction while the zombie croaked out his broken laugh.

“You ass I thought I fucked up I’m—” Andy didn’t finish, but he did mimic wrapping his hands around a throat and squeezing while Virgil laughed at him.

“Not my fault. You set. Yourself up,” he wheezed, grinning up at him from his spot in the leaves.

Was it just Andy, or was his smile getting looser?

“Shut up or I’m throwing more rocks at you, fuck you.”

“You’d fuck. A zombie?”

Andy let out a loud, dramatic groan, letting his head fall back to look at the sky.

“I fucking hate you and I’m leaving you to rot by yourself.”

“Wow. Insensitive. Much?” Virgil asked, making Andy have to look at him again to make sure he was still joking before he grumbled and decided to just sit on the ground.

“I hate you and I’m going to abandon you. Silence is better than this. Fuck. You. And not in the sexy way so you shut your zombie mouth.”

Another snort, Andy continuing to grumble and glare at the ground.

“Just hurry up and finish eating you ass.”

[skaashis]

hunger. 

➤ you are miya osamu

wc: 2.7k 

warnings: food, op is hungry, miya osamu centric, manga & anime spoilers

note: I'm 1-2 days late to the funeral/party but pls accept this really short miya osamu character study (kind of. barely. There was hardly any studying as i’ve allowed the spirit of writing take hold of my hands for a solid two hours.) as my elegy/offering to haikyuu season 4’s finale and the 40 tabs of poetry & fics that crashed on me earlier this evening. 

You are Miya Osamu, seven years old, and eating in the new ramen restaurant that just opened up for dinner. The place was apparently highly-anticipated as it’s apparently the first Hyogo Branch for an infamous ramen chain that's apparently rated with two Michelin stars. The interior is traditional and neat. The walls, floor, and furniture are of finished wood in varying shades. The staff look old, the chefs look older. You, Atsumu, Pa, and Ma are seated with menus and gurgling stomachs, and walk out with takeout. Hands chained together, you all walk towards the parking lot and Ma lets out a squeal of satisfaction saying, “that was real good wasn't it, Atsumu, Osamu?” 

Atsumu being the dimwit brat he is, nods viciously as if his eyes aren't already drooping as a sign of an incoming food coma. He proceeds to say he’s reaaaaaaaal full! And how he really liked how soft the noodles were and how rich the broth was and how soft the noodles were. Ma hums in a smile then looks down to face you, asking you for your own opinion. You only shrug and say, “I’m full. Just not satisfied” 

Ma looks at you, mortified. Pa guffaws his lungs out and manages to wheeze out how you better be thankful that you’re out of the restaurant's vicinity for you might have gotten your first lawsuit at seven! You don't completely understand what he means but knows it's something bad. In the car ride back home, you stare out the window and wonder why. 

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You are Miya Osamu and think that Aran Ojiro is hella cool. He’s got a hella cool name, hella cool physique, and hella cool lunch he brings to school one day. They’re pancakes. Not really the ideal lunch meal, but hella cool either way because they’re nop ordinary pancakes. They’re corn pancakes, except, as Tsumu (his new name that you both proclaimed post-meeting Aran-kun) says after taking a bite, there’s no corn in it. It just tastes like corn. You pull out your own plastic chopsticks from your bento to take a taste as Aran explains. He says there’s something his mom puts that called ‘cornmeal’. Before you could take a piece, Aran halts you and shuffles for something in his lunchbag, only to pull out a mini tupperware of freshly chopped green onions. With glimmering eyes, he recommends that you try it out with the green onions garnished above before you take a bite. You nod, take his advice, and your mouth explodes with colors. It’s beyond sweet or savory or spicy or umami. Pancakes have always been either flat or fluffy alone, never so interesting and flavorful until now. 

Ma picks you and Tsumu up later that day and you ask her to buy some cornmeal and extra green onions the next time she goes to the market to buy groceries. 

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You are Miya Osamu and it's New Year’s. You’re also yelling at Tsumu too keep it up, who in return, is also yelling at you to keep it up. Ojiisan is chortling in endearment, Obaasan is cackling her lungs out. When the Mochi is finally done, you and Tsumu exchange glares with your arms folded in a huff. Tsumu mutters how you, Samu, is so stupid and dumb and slow, when you know for a fact that HE’s the one who’s stupid and dumb and slow. Obaasan, being the ever observant granny she is, hitches a brow teasingly and asks if her precious grandsons have changed their precious names into something else. You and (a)Tsumu splutter up a string of apologies and excuses, only for her to cackle once again, this time simultaneously hitting you both on the back as she does so. Ojiisan is the one to tell your Obaasan to calm down now as he distributes the mochi. 

Obaasan smiles with the softening of her eyes after taking a bite of the mochi and says it's good. Both your and (a)Tsumu’s hearts swell in pride. She then smiles with her dentures flashed in a wide, cheshire grin, adding how it could’ve used a little more oomph! She says it’s good because food is always good when you’re happy. And you’re happy when you make decisions for yourselves. And when you’re making decisions for yourself, you’re supposed to make a decision that you think will make you happy. You and Tsumu nod while reaching out for your own mochi and she’s right, it’s too soft. 

But you think, huh. It does taste a lot better. 

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You are Miya Osamu and firmly believe your brother is a curse. Or perhaps it’s the other way around. You’re the curse. Ma never told you who’s older or younger, and probably (likely.) (definitely.) for the best. Though, you’re also one half of the newly infamous Miya Twins™ (synonymous with: chaos incarnate) who have recently shaken the ground of the volleyball world. The other half of the Miya Twins™ is Atsumu, who puked in the bus before the first game in your first nationals that no one, everyone, would have expected you’d win. Of course, you only reach the semi-finals, but that alone is a feat in itself. Still, on the bus ride back to Hyogo, while your eyes aren’t swelling with tears anymore, they’re mapped with veins and your heart’s the one doing the swelling, but with distraught and a promise to give it your all until the very end as one half of the Miya Twins™. 

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You are Miya Osamu and the team that stands before you across the net is Karasuno. Whom no one, everyone, would have expected would come this far. They’re an amalgamation of rookies, geniuses, and straight up monsters. They’re an odd bunch but so is your team. You’re both standing in the court, in Tokyo, match being ingrained into the minds of every person watching whether live or through National Television that'll either last forever for them to talk to their grandkids about or just fleet away the next day. Either way, the memory of such alone is proof that they’ve come this far. So are the jerseys being drenched in sweat, bruises blooming on their forearms, and the muscles being more and more conditioned as each three centimeters of a second passes by. 

“Hey ‘samu? I’m startin’ to feel hungry.”

“Me too, ‘tsumu.”

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You are Miya Osamu, scarfing down on the third best gyudon you’ve had in your life. It’s served in the Tokyo branch of a well known gyudon chain and only the third best ‘cuz Ma’s is and will always be the best, and yours will be the second best because you’re seventeen and self-proclaimed one hell of a home cook. It’s third best probably because of the garnish or the beef’s quality or how well-cooked the rice is. Or the fact that you’re eating it right after a loss. Food is always better when it's used as comfort or a coping mechanism. If it’s decent and you’re feeling like shit, your brain always registers it as the best thing in the world for at least the next few days. But you’re smarter than Gin who’s ordering his third bowl because it's the best gyudon he’s ever had in his life. But also, food is always better when you’re happy, when you make a decision for yourself that you deem would make you happy. You’re not happy, but you’ve decided that you’re gonna be the junior Kita-san’s forever gonna brag about. 

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You are Miya Osamu and practice the next day is grueling. Even fiercer and vicious than the already fierce and vicious practices your body had been accustomed to pre-nationals. Not completely by coach’s order, rather by the hunger born as an aftermath from yesterday's events. It’s also a water break. The mere three minutes your body is given to repair its own muscles before another set of serves. Riseki mentions how yesterday, Kita went on another one of his strange speeches in the midst of the match. He reiterates how Kita believed everyone on court were monsters and all, that's really the bare minimum Riseki’s pea brain, in comparison to Kita-san’s argentinosaurus of a brain, was able to absorb. You nod and hum in acknowledgement, after all, you thought the same too at one point of the match. But now- 

Your gaze shifts over to ‘tsumu who’s across the gym and trying to create a heimlich by punching his chest. God knows what he’s choked himself up on again this time. 

-your face twists into nonchalance. Even from the other side of the gym, you feel tsumu giving you the stink eye as Aran’s obligatorily assisting him. It's probably the twin senses. The guy’s no monster. Even if he was, monsters are supposed to be terrifying. Like the ones scaring you from under your bed. Or crawling up from a well and out of the TV screen. Or dipping fingers along with a french fry into a ramekin of ketchup in a team outing, like what Tsumu doe— Ah. 

(Later that night, he does it again. He’s no monster, just a stupid fuckin idiot.) 

(A disgrace to humanity.)

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You are Miya Osamu, it’s the week after the last Spring High National Tournament, 1AM, and you should be asleep. Instead, you’re googling: what the fuck do retired athletes do when they’re retired. Your back isn’t aching and you dont smell funny yet, but you’re a teenager and tired and your brain whirrs in the strangest of times. The search results are blurry as like does a black hole, sleep succumbs and swallows you into itself. 

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You are Miya Osamu, holding your brother in a headlock. The catalyst to the impromptu wrestling match in the gym was you admitting to Atsumu that you’re no longer playing volleyball after highschool. Some delusional part of yourself hoped for some kind of peaceful talk. Y’know, with puffy gowns and smiles and chamomile tea. But Tsumu’s childish and you’re apparently a FUCKIN’ [REDACTED] [REDACTED] HORSE-CRAP-LOOKIN’ [REDACTED] BITCHASS [REDACTED] [REDACTED] SHITTY SCRUB. As per usual, you throw each other, yells (Communication between the Miya Twins™ was either inarticulate yelling or twin telepathy alone and nothing in between.), and punches around. There’s no real winner or loser in your quarrels as either Ma’, the coach, or Kita-san is always quick to end it. This time, when Tsumu yells at you that when you’re in your deathbeds, he’s gonna say that lived a happier life, you grin fierce, proud, in pain, and attempt to keep tears from streaming down your eyes. There’s no winner or loser to this fight as it doesn’t, and will never end until you’re on your deathbeds trying to deem who lived a happier life. 

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You are Miya Osamu, sweating profoundly, and the touch of the ball your brother set to you barely quarter a second ago is faint. The Twin Quick Attack, Minus Tempo. He gives you a look that says “are ya still thinkin’ about quittin’?” You slam the ball down along with returning a look that says “fuck yeah.” The ball creates a deafening echo as it ricochets off the ground. 2014 Spring High National Tournament: Inarizaki High School vs Karasuno High School (2:1)

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You are Miya Osamu, swearing you’re about to go blind because of the continuous flashes of cameras being sent your way in your graduation. Ma’ and Pa’ are in tears, so are a few of your classmates and teammates and juniors. Some people say that they wished highschool would never end but that’s a load of bullshit. Highschool sucked. Calculus sucked. Everyone many Some people sucked. ‘Tsumu definitely sucked. Playing volleyball— didn’t suck. It never sucked. 

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You are Miya Osamu and adult-ing sucks. Taxes, landlords, income— Never have been fond of economics and likely never will. They said that when you become an adult, you’re finally gonna be thrusted into the world of freedom and happiness. Freedom is for everyone, children and adults alike. Happiness on the other hand, is temporary and reserved for times like a good lunch, and only permanent for people swimming in bills and coins and gucci. You? You’re just some guy making equilateral riceballs for a living. The food industry is always a gamble. To make a name for yourself, you’ve gotta keep thriving. To keep thriving you require consistency in improvement. That means more branches, more flavors, and more investment while making sure the quality never drops. It's difficult and mentally taxing. It also makes the whirring of the ceiling fan seem louder than it should be, making you feel smaller, more alone, than you should feel. You take another piece of manchego and narrow your eyes into the list of potential new flavors you could sell. A high-pitched DING! from your phone causes you to lose the staring contest you’ve had with the sheet of paper in front of you. 

From: Kita-san 

I’ve prepared the rice for pickup. See you tomorrow, Osamu.

 You grin at the notification and text him a quick thanks. You stand up and flip the paper around in order to get read for bed. Something tells you you’ll figure it out somehow and soon. 

(you do. Spicy pickled cucumber onigiri is fresh and a well selling item in Onigiri Miya the moment its introduced.)

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You are Miya Osamu and firmly believe your brother is a menace, but also a nuisance. Yet here he is, likely (definitely) unaware of the splatter of soy sauce his cheek is smushed upon that you weren’t able to clean up from the former customer as he’s too immersed in his own personal venting. He’s whining on and on about how he can’t seem to perfect this new special serve he’s been working on for a while now. You’re familiar with this co called “special” serve he’s trying to pull off as it’s been the only thing he’s been texting you daily about. Because you’ve heard of it a hundred-or-so times and you were also supposed to close up ages ago, until he came waltzing in with that stupid pout and blonde hair of his. He’s a menace and nuisance but also your brother, so you offer him your own two cents and fresh onigiri. The night goes on with you both talking about Kita-san and life and the time Bokkun got his hand stuck in the pipe system back over in the MSBY dormitories. As you close up the shop and part ways, Tsumu yells at you saying he hasn’t figured out the serve yet, you yell back at him that he’ll figure it out somehow. 

(he does. he debuts the new menacing northpaw serve, entitled the “hybrid serve” the next match the MSBY have.)

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You are Miya Osamu and formally meet Akaashi Keiji for the first time. You recall him as one of the setters for Fukurodani, the highschool that often appeared in lists of participatory schools in the nationals as well as the former abode of your brother’s teammate, Bokuto “Bokkun” Koutaro. The dude’s nice. Probably needs more sleep, but generally nice. Seeing him and so many other people from highschool all gather up in Sendai for the match fortifies its already well-established significance. The crowd quivers and roars in awe as the MSBY win, some of shock, others of pride, many over at the Adlers side in goodbye to the sum of money they’ve pooled into bets. You quiver and roar in a grin, proud of your brother and the incoming flock of hungry customers coming over to your stand. 

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You are Miya Atsumu and your brother is Miya Osamu. No surprise he’s 60+ and still making those stupid equilateral riceballs of his. Probably because he’s got his life up together. Definately because he’s a FUCKIN’ [REDACTED] [REDACTED] HORSE-CRAP-LOOKIN’ [REDACTED] BITCHASS [REDACTED] [REDACTED] SHITTY SCRUB. You enter the shop and the doorway is no longer one you’d have to duck for in order to enter. The place is really neat. Sumiko-chan (16, working part time) welcomes you back and says Osamu-jiisan’s break is still in an hour or so. You wave her off saying you’re just gonna get a minced tuna and spring onion onigiris to go. She nods and tells you to wait for five minutes. You do so and in those five minutes, you watch ‘Samu smile as he’s heartily making those stupid equilateral riceballs of his out of rice and love and whatever the fuck each flavor requires. 

He’s probably happy. You're probably happier. But he’s definitely happy.

[your-world-with-nct]

𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 — 𝐳𝐜𝐥

➵ pairing: chenle x gender-neutral reader

➵ genre: angst, fluff, crack, one-shot

➵ warnings: cursing, negative mentions of body image 

➵ word count: 2.5k

➵ summary: there was no other way to describe your relationship with zhong chenle than “twisted”. you were in love with him but all you could ever show him was anger and disgust, and it seemed to be the same case for him too. but when his words come out more twisted than they’ve ever been, you begin to question, could you ever untangle the mess you two were in?

➵ a/n: happy (late) birthday lele !! this was meant to be a short drabble requested by @yangerscheeks​ but i ended up falling in love with the plot idea and turning it into a one-shot for you guys hehe enjoy

game nights with the dreamies were the sole thing you looked forward to after a long week of work; it was the only thing keeping you going. chaos-filled evenings packed with competition, laughter, betrayal, teamwork, snacks, victories and losses, with your favourite seven boys - yes, the dreamies insisted on inviting your older brother, mark, to join you all every saturday night, when he wasn’t too busy - was the ideal way to spend time with your best friends and de-stress from the past week’s workload. from classic board games and party games, to the newest video games, you always enjoyed messing around with them and playing whatever the game of choice was that week. you loved everything about game night - except something, or rather... someone. 

chenle was the only member of nct dream that never seemed to click with you, even from your first meeting 3 years ago; he either completely ignored you and acted cold around you, or irritated you every waking second of the day, teasing you in ways that crossed the line, and sometimes just blatantly insulted you (not that you didn’t respond in a similar manner to him though). you hated it, and you hated him.

you despised his illuminating smile, and his perfect facial features; you loathed his contagious, cute giggles; you disliked how talented he was and how angelic his vocals were; you detested his enticing nature on stage; you were disgusted by his family-oriented attitude and his close-knit relationship with his fellow hyungs; and you absolutely hated how he made your heart pound out of your chest whenever he was around you. you hated that you loved chenle.

tonight’s game was twister, and, unfortunately, mark couldn’t join you since he was abroad promoting with SuperM, which also meant that game night was a frenzy without a somewhat sane adult watching over you all.

“left foot green, ha! there’s no space left between haechan hyung and jaemin hyung, y’all are gonna fall soon,” jisung cackled from the couch, being assigned as the spinner for this round as he lost the last one.

the remaining players, including you, shifted to claim a green spot, whilst trying not to laugh at jaemin’s behind planted right in front of haechan’s face, “personal space won’t hold me back from winning, bitch!” 

without a doubt, the room erupted into laughter, causing haechan’s stomach to tense up so much that he toppled over, “AHA! HYUNG YOU’RE OUT, YOU LOOOOSE!” jisung yelled from his comfortable spot, not feeling as embarrassed about not snatching a win the previous round, as his spluttering hyung stumbled onto the sofa with him, small wheezes of “minnie why” in between each of his heaving howls.

the euphoric feeling that surrounded the seven of you during moments like this was something you treasured, and you couldn’t hold back a chuckle yourself, grinning at the sore loser gripping his abdomen and cursing out jaemin for getting him out of the game.

“don’t worry, there’ll be another round, hyung. okay, now right hand red,” jisung announced, watching as you all struggled to get to the opposite side of the mat.

assessing the situation, you realised that the only way you could put your hand on a red spot was by extending your arm across chenle’s leg, and reaching over it. it was a risky move as you would be dangerously close to him, but, as much as you wanted him to fall, you knew that boy was extremely ticklish and would jerk his entire leg, which would probably end up with you joining him in being eliminated from that round. however, you took the chance anyway, hovering your arm over chenle and ensuring that you made no contact with him whatsoever.

you thought you could last until jisung called out the next one, until you felt jeno move his elbow underneath your gut, causing all the breath in your chest to flow out of you, and your whole body to fall to the floor, bringing chenle down with you too.

strained huffs left your mouth as jeno, jaemin, and renjun shouted in triumph having taken out two players at once. despite their loud whoops, you couldn’t ignore the annoyed grunts coming from next to you, and the snarky comment that came after it.

“my god, y/n, you’re so heavy, you knocked the wind out of me, and i think you broke my rib too while you were at it,” chenle mumbled out of exasperation, loud enough for you and the rest of the dreamies to hear it too.

usually, his remarks wouldn’t bother you at all, you’d brush them off, or make a casual retort, but, this time he had dug at a deep insecurity of yours, your self-image and your body. “aww, no, i’m out!” you announced, faking disappointment, and dragging yourself up from the carpet, “i’m just, i’m just gonna go, uhhh, go get a, ummm… a drink. yeah, i’ll be back in a sec, guys.”

you tried not to let the emotion show through your voice, but these boys knew you too well, they could already see by the forlorn look on you face just how hurt you were by what chenle said. turning towards the bathroom, you knew that there was nowhere else you could hide to let your new set of tears flow.

“wait, y/n, that’s not the kitchen-” was the last thing you heard from renjun, before you slammed the door behind you, sliding down against it and breaking down in your arms, as the spiteful words your own crush had said to you reverberated in your damaged thoughts.

“chenle, why... why would you say that to them? you know how sensitive y/n can be, you dumbass,” renjun let out an exasperated sigh at the younger boy, who was currently curled up on the floor, his face buried in his knees as he internally kicked himself for saying such a malicious thing to you. 

running his hands through his chestnut locks, remorse evident in the action, chenle groaned as the other members contributed to renjun’s statement, which simply added to his already immense amount of guilt, “okay, okay! i get it. alright? you guys can shut the fuck up now, i know what i did. you don’t have to make it worse than it already is.”

chenle’s harsh tone shocked his hyungs, and so did the way he stormed out of the room, running off in the direction you went in before. meanwhile, even the said boy was surprised by what he said. what was wrong with him today? why was he acting like this? the only thing he could think of that was affecting him this much was you. you and your melodic laugh, your cute remarks, your enchanting presence - he was so caught up in admiring you that he could barely control himself. 

‘no, chenle, that’s a stupid excuse,’ he mumbled to himself, as he came to a halt when he reached the door to the bathroom you were in, which he deducted from the choked sobs he could hear coming from the other side. the pain-stricken cries were a heart-wrenching sound to chenle, and, at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and tell you how much he treasured you.

but, he couldn’t, because he was your enemy, because he made himself your enemy, because you would never love someone you hated. it was times like these that made chenle despise himself for freezing up around you and being selfish, for turning his irrepressible feelings for you into ignorance and hatred, for disregarding how he felt because it was too much for him.

chenle couldn’t keep doing this to you, and to himself; it was torture just watching the sparkle in your eyes dim every time he opened his mouth to say something to you, to hurt someone so precious to him. maybe, it was time to let you know how he really, truly felt about you, just, maybe, his words wouldn’t come out so twisted.

you didn’t know if it was your vivid imagination, but you swore you heard footsteps approaching, and you couldn’t stand knowing that one of the boys could hear you crying, with only a door to separate you. specifically if it was chenle, oh, you didn’t know what you would do if your crush, and nemesis, was outside, listening to you and your already low self-esteem crumble as you stared down at your shaking body, his cruel words resonating through your head. 

it’s not as if you were unaware that you didn’t have the perfect figure, but it wasn’t something you liked to be reminded of, especially not in such a hateful manner. the fact that chenle’s physique was so flattering made you feel like you weren’t worthy of him, why would someone like him be attracted to someone like you? 

hesitating slightly, chenle took a few moments to calm himself before his knuckles tapped against the bathroom door. you jumped at the distinctive rat-tat-tat sound, identifying the knocker as chenle; cursing under your breath, you swiped at your blotchy, tear-stained face with the sleeve of your sweater and tried to regulate your uneven breathing. with a few sniffles and a quick inspection of yourself in the mirror, you unlocked the door and stepped out into the hallway, the very person you dreaded to see stood right in front of you, his puffy eyes mirroring yours.

“y/n, i-i’m so so sorry, i just- i can’t even explain- i’m sorry,” chenle could barely speak, his words coming out in incoherent stutters. you had never seen him like this before, so vulnerable, so distressed, so genuine - it sparked something in you. you don’t know what made you do it, but you felt yourself enveloping the boy in your arms, letting yourself sob into his shoulder as you both held onto each other like your lives depended on it.

despite his confusion, chenle relaxed in your embrace, wrapping his arms around your waist and caressing you so gently as you both cried into one another. a strange, unfamiliar warmth crept into the two of you the longer you stayed entangled with each other, a blissful silence filling the air as you two rocked back and forth, trying to regain your composure so you could actually talk things out.

just as you were about to say something, you looked into chenle’s glossy eyes, which was enough for your mind to go absolutely feral with deprecating, doubtful thoughts. what if you had read the situation wrong? what if he was taking advantage of you? what if this was all just a stupid ploy, to mess with you? as you avoided eye contact with your crush, he cupped your chin in one hand, wiping the newest teardrops with his thumb, “shhh, don’t cry anymore, sweetheart, it makes me sad seeing you like this.”

those words confirmed the complete opposite of what you were thinking, and your jaw dropped as you finally connected with his chocolate brown orbs again, seeing pure concern and worry swirled into those beautiful eyes of his. “why, how come- why are you being like this, chenle? you’re never usually this nice,” you managed to say through a few snivels.

“because this is the first time that i haven’t been nervous enough to approach you and speak to you like a decent human being,” he pulled away from the hug slightly to look at you directly while he said this, to emphasise his sincerity.

“wait, nervous? what- why-”

“can i tell you something, y/n?” chenle asked, a subconscious pout forming on his lips as he waited for your answer so that he could continue. once you gave him a small nod, he intertwined his fingers in yours, clutching your entwined hands to his chest.

“i get so, so scared whenever you walk into the room, just seeing you makes my heart flutter at immeasurable speeds. when we first met, i just had no idea how to even talk to you, i was that lovestruck, that the first thing that came out of my mouth was an insult. and i guess that was my way of coping? with my feelings? mark hyung told me that i go all ‘panicked tsundere’ around you - and he’s not wrong.

“i like you, so much, that i can barely act normal around you. and i know that’s no excuse for what i said before, and for everything i’ve ever done to you, but i want you to know that you’re an incredible person and i’m so in awe of you that i literally can no longer function. 

“i’m sorry and i know that you won’t forgive me right now, but i was just scared that i-i would lose you. i don’t know, i thought that if you knew i liked you, i would’ve scared you away and you would never talk to me again. i guess that you hating me was better than you not being in my life at all.”

every moment you had ever spent with chenle made more sense now, how his entire expression would change whenever he saw you, but his façade would fade as soon as your back was turned - he wasn’t trying to push you away,

he was trying to keep you in his orbit, without pulling you too close to him. you had always thought that you just had a twisted relationship, but it turns out that you were both too scared to say anything to untangle the mess that was the two of you.

“oh, lele, you haven’t lost me,” your use of chenle’s nickname brought a fuschia tinge to his cheeks, which caused the corners of your mouth to curve upwards by the slightest bit, “you never would have lost me, because i was holding on to you too, by that singular thread of rivalry we had. if you haven’t figured out by now, i like you too, dumbass. and yes, while i am quite hurt by what you said to me earlier, i can’t just pretend that i haven’t treated you in the same shitty way. i forgive you, and i wanna start again with you, chenle. and this time, you won’t lose me, i’ve got you.”

closing the distance between you two, you pressed your lips against chenle’s own plump ones, revelling in the euphoria rushing through your body as you finally kissed the boy you had been in love with for three years. it wasn’t exactly a fairytale kiss, it was a mixture of salty tears, clashing teeth, and a desperate grip on one another - but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

eventually, chenle disconnected his lips from yours, his forehead still leaning on yours and his mouth practically ghosting over your cheek as he refused to separate himself from you, “i’ve got you too, y/n, never doubt that. and, by the way, you’re not ‘heavy’ or ‘fat’, or anything like that. even if you were, i wouldn’t care, because you are the most beautiful person i’ve ever met. i-i think i love you.”

“i love you too, chenle,” you mumbled before crashing your lips against his again. at last, you had unravelled your twisted relationship with zhong chenle, and you were hoping to keep it that way.

[marvellous-fangirl]

Lab Banter

You go to Wakanda to see your best friend, Shuri, and develop a crush on her older brother

Oneshot

Word Count: 1,135

Pairings: T���Challa x Reader, BFF!Shuri x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Shuri being a matchmaker

A/N: I’m might write two separate sequels for this

You got off the ship, staring in wonder out at technological city. Your eyes were wide in amazement. How could you not have known that this existed? “Y/N!” You heard and your head snapped around to see a girl your age running towards you. “Shuri!” You grinned, running towards your friend. “How are you?” You huffed as you crashed together into a hug. “Better than you could ever be.” She smirked and you grinned even wider as you performed your infamous handshake. “I can’t wait for you to show me around.” You bounced, staring around you, eyes wide. Shuri chuckled. You turned to see a handsome man walking towards you. “Ah yes this is my brother.” “T’Challa.” He smiled, holding his hand out for you to shake and introducing himself. You smiled, shaking his hand firmly. “It’s an honour, your majesty.” You smiled, eyes not leaving his face, taking in all the flaws that he didn’t have. Shuri nudged you, your eyes locked with T’Challa’s. You tore your eyes away and saw the largest smirk plastered on Shuri’s face.  “C’mon Y/L/N, lets go.” And you waved goodbye to the best looking guy you’d ever seen. 

You gazed in wonder around Shuri’s lab. “Man I would kill for this stuff.” You said, eyes wide. Shuri chuckled, spinning in her desk chair. You saw the suits in the corner and scurried over to them, Shuri standing and following behind you, satisfied at your reaction. “These are so beautiful.” You whispered, running your fingertips over the vibranium. “Like my brother?” She smirked and you choked on air. “Save your breath I know exactly what’s going through your head.” She laughed and you spluttered hopelessly. “Relax I already gave him your number.” “You did?” You whispered. Shuri nodded and you squeaked and danced around the room, just as T’Challa entered the lab, laughing as he saw and locked eyes with you. 

You had your hair scooped backwards in a mess and were relaxing with Shuri in her lab, when T’Challa slid into the room the next morning. You and Shuri looked up in unison. “Ah brother.” Shuri grinned and you smiled as they performed a complicated handshake. “I’ve been preparing new suits for you.” She smirked slightly, as you noticed her cue and slid off the table you were sitting on and grabbed a camera to strap to your wrist. T’Challa didn’t notice your movements until he turned around saw you smirking like his sister. He raised an eyebrow and Shuri chuckled. “Brother it’s for research.” She assured him. “Now kick the suit.” She said and T’Challa obeyed. It went soaring across to the other side of the lab and Shuri rolled her eyes. “I said kick it, not send it into orbit.” And T’Challa chuckled. “Now kick it in the same place.” She said, trying to hide a smirk as she placed the mannequin down where it had been before. T’Challa’s foot made contact with the spot he had kicked it before and went flying backwards. You got the whole thing on camera and screamed with laughter, falling onto the floor and rolling around, clutching your sides. Shuri was cackling as T’Challa stood up and dusted himself off, trying not to laugh at your reaction and he pointed seriously at the two of you. “Delete that.” He said and your laughing intensified. 

Once you recovered from your fits of laughter, you scooped yourself off the floor and tried to retain your composure and it took you a while. T’Challa couldn’t help but watch you as you continued to giggle with a smile so big that Shuri had to punch him before you saw the look on his face. As you rose to your feet, you watched the footage from your wrist and continued to chuckle to yourself.  “I told you to delete that.” He said, half serious. You stuck your tongue out like a child.  “I tOlD yOu tO DeLeTe tHaT.” You mocked him and he rolled his eyes, then made to grab the device on your wrist, but you had already foreseen his movement and unstrapped it, sending it soaring across the room towards Shuri, who caught it with a smirk. T’Challa groaned then launched towards his sister, who had again already thrown it. You all continued your game of piggy in the middle, with you occasionally pretending to throw the device as if you were taunting a dog. Then suddenly T’Challa paused and tackled you, just as you caught the device. You fell to the floor with you wheezing with laughter again as T’Challa lay on top of you, fumbling to grab the device out of your hands, but you were still too good for him and freed your arm to return it to Shuri. T’Challa swore, unable to keep the grin off his face as he rose to a kneeling position over you, suddenly aware of his intense desire to kiss you. Your laughing gradually slowed as T’Challa pushed himself to his feet and you took the hand that he offered to you and you were tugged to your feet. Shuri was rolling her eyes with a grin and T’Challa made his way towards his sister.  “Seriously Shuri.” He said, stretching his hand out for the device. Shuri shrugged and handed it to him and relief flooded over his face. He dropped it on the floor and stamped on it. “Brother that was expensive!” Shuri said, upset.  “You have more.” He chuckled and earned himself a glare from her.  “At least that’s not going anywhere.” T’Challa referred to the video and you couldn’t help but grin as you made her way over to Shuri’s side and pressed a button, causing a hologram of the video to be projected into the air and T’Challa groaned as the others laughed once again.

“Now brother.” Shuri said seriously. “When are you going to ask out Y/N.” Both you and T’Challa flushed red. “It’s about time you made your move. I’m sick of all of these suggestive encounters.” She continued, trailing off into a mutter.  “Shuri.” T’Challa hissed, looking annoyed.  “What? I’m the one who’s stuck in the middle of all of this! I’ve given both of you each other’s numbers! What else can I do?!” She exclaimed and she couldn’t help but chuckle. You didn’t say anything but watched T’Challa carefully. He muttered something under his breath that only Shuri could hear. She said “You’re kidding right.” and he shrugged. She sighed and turned to you. “My brother is devoid of confidence and is unable to ask you out so I have to do it. Y/N. Would you like to go on a date with my brother.” She said and you laughed. “I’d love to.” She said slightly shyly and T’Challa grinned. Shuri cheered loudly.  “It’s about time!”

[franklyshipping]

The Gooper Adventures ~ Day 7 ~ A Markiplier and Jacksepticeye Ego Fanfic

And here we are, at the final instalment of this mini series! I hope you guys have loved reading it as much as I have loved writing it! LET'S DO IT!

 TAGGING: @schneeplesteinthetickledoctor @doctoripliler @schneepleestien and @thegoodnewsdoctler

The chase was afoot. Hunter and prey were working to their absolute limits, the prey using their size and adept knowledge of the environment to twist and dart and dodge, whilst the hunter used their unique form and inhuman energy to dart about, find vantage points, and ultimately come up with a strategy to finally capture the one they were after. It was a magnificent tactical scene to witness, but soon the hunter's growls got louder and closer to the prey....and after one last pounce from a great height....the hunt had been won.

'AAHHH! IHI YIHIELD YOU GOHOT MEEEE!'

Dr Iplier cried out as Gooper launched from the top of a cabinet and latched onto his neck, nuzzling furiously which made Iplier lose his balance and crumple to the floor as a hysterically giggling mess. Upon hearing the doctor admit that he had lost though, Gooper had mercy. He gurgled smugly as he booped against Iplier's cheek lovingly. The doctor cupped the little guy in his hands and looked down at him fondly, his smile softening and becoming a little shaky. It was Gooper's last day as his little assistant.

'....I'm gonna miss having you here to help me and make me smile everyday.'

Iplier sniffed a few times, and Gooper immediately started to croon and lovingly nuzzle Iplier's palms and fingers. He was sad too, it had been so fun being with the doctor Iplier and meeting all the new people! But Gooper did miss his silly green dad doctor. The little creature set about letting out little yips and gurgles, which made Iplier smile wider; Gooper was reassuring him that no-one would be able to stop him visiting lots and lots and lots. Iplier was about to reward him with a belly rub for saying those things to help make him happier...when there was a knock at the door. Iplier grinned and Gooper let out a low, happy purr. He was here.

'Okay, keep quiet bud!'

Iplier whisper shouted as he skipped forwards and placed Gooper onto top of the cabinet that was riiight next to the door, Gooper giggled softly before going quiet....and Iplier opened the door with a wide grin in place.

'Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.'

Iplier smirked playfully, then laughed happily when he was engulfed in a hug by none other than Dr Schneeplestein himself. The accented doctor let out a laugh as he clapped Iplier on the back, smiling wide as he replied sarcastically.

'Oh well how lovely it is to see you too my friend!'

Iplier giggled as they parted, and Iplier couldn't help but smile wider at the sight of Schneeple. Yes, he looked rather bedraggled from travel certainly....but he looked so damn happy. There was a brightness in his eyes that he hadn't had before, and Iplier just couldn't wait to hear of all the antics and fun times Schneeple had had with his kids. Iplier loved whenever his medical friend talked about his family, seeing him so happy made HIM happy.

'Now, where is my little-AEEE!'

Schneeple, as you can infer, was about to inquire about the whereabouts of a certain squish....when he was dive-bombed....by said squish. Schneeple's face lit up when he realised Gooper had landed at his neck, and he immediately cupped the joyfully squeaking cutie into his hands and absolutely assaulted him with nuzzles and kisses.

'Oh my sweet little baby booooyy, oh how are you? Have you gotten bigger and squishier, oh I think you haaaave!'

Iplier snickered fondly as he watched Gooper madly squealing in delight....Iplier could almost feel the creature's insane happiness at being reunited with Schneeple, it was practically coming off of him in waves! Gooper was so happy! The best thing was actually being around Schneeple's fresh scent again, AND Schneeple was wearing a jumper! This couldn't be more perfect! Gooper immediately hopped back onto Schneeple's neck, and before Schneeple could stop him Gooper had slid down the back of his jumper AND t-shirt on a nuzzly journey to get reacquainted with the doctor's scent....amongst other things of course.

'A-AAHAH! G-Gohooper nehein!'

Schneeple arched his back sharply with widening eyes....oh no. Iplier meanwhile was grinning....he had oh so hoped that this would happen, and so called out with some sweet encouragement.

'Hey Gooper.....how about you reeeeally show Schneeple how much you missed him.'

Schneeple's eyes widened even more with horror at his friend's words, he couldn't believe he was actually coaxing the little guy on! As Schneeple giggled at the slowly increasing nuzzling happening up and down his back, he glared at Iplier. The doctor had the audacity to stand with folded arms and smirking lips and damned mischievous twinkling eyes! Schneeple realised now of course that Iplier had been implicitly planning this tickle attack on Schneeple all along.

'Y-Yohohou scheheheHEMEHER!'

Iplier chuckled villainously at Schneeple's dramatic statement, and sighed happily as he watched the giggly doctor's knees buckle, thus making him crumple to the floor as Gooper now found his sweet doctor's ribs. Oh how Gooper had missed them! Gooper loved playing at Schneeple's ribs, because in Gooper's mind they were the most perfect set of ribs in the whole entire world! They were perfectly defined so that Gooper could find and play with eeevery single one of them, which is what Gooper intended to do right this second starting from the top. As Schneeple started giggling louder, Iplier observed and replied in a teasing tone.

'I don't know what you're talking about my dear friend, if this is how Gooper chooses to show how much he missed you, then that's his choice.'

The good doctor's cheeks were really approaching a crimson hue as he writhed about on the floor, filled with embarrassment at how he just couldn't find a way to stop the tickling OR the teasing; what a cruel welcome back this was!

'NAHAHAHA BUHUHUT HEHE KNOHOHOWS IHI CAHAN'T STAHAND IHIT!'

Iplier giggled fondly as Gooper gurgled in a similar manner, of COURSE he knew that this was super tickly for Schneeple, but how else was he meant to make up for all the tickles that Schneeple didn't have this week? Gooper eagerly worked down Schneeple's ribcage, moving back and forth over each side so that he was certain he didn't miss any ticklish ribs out! Meanwhile, when Gooper's gurgly justification translated itself in Iplier's head, Iplier grinned and decided to rearticulate it for Schneeple's benefit.

'Yep, and that's why I think he's going to reeeeally take his time. It's been a week after all, he's gotta give you all the tickles you missed!'

Schneeple let out a wild wail, because excuse you he didn't need Iplier repeating all of Gooper's unintended innocent teases thank you very much! Schneeple was cackling and hitting the floor as Gooper's form now rubbed slow and deep into his bottommost ribs; the doctor cried out.

'YOHOHOU'RE AHA TEHEHEASY BUHUHUHUTT!!'

Schneeple had meant it to sound insulting, he really did, but as if Iplier was ever going to take it that way.

'Aww thank you buddy!'

Iplier crooned as he happily watched over Schneeple's writhing form, grinning at the sound of Schneeple's high pitched cackles; Gooper had found his sides. Gooper had decided to make use of his little talent of splitting his form, and so had split in two so that he could get BOTH of Schneeple's squishy sides simultaneously!

'AAAHAHAHA NOHOHO SPLIHITTING AHAHA NAHAT FAHAHAIR!!'

Iplier smirked down at his friend, his smugness overcoming him as he sneered.

'Woooow, he must have REALLY missed y-'

'OHO SUHUHUCK MYHY WURST!!'

Iplier spluttered and repressed laughter at Schneeple's interruption...wow, Gooper must really have been tickling him bad for him to come out with something like that! Iplier of course composed himself though, and decided to playfully muse as he watched Schneeple kick into the air.

'I ah, I don't think Host would be happy with me doing that but thanks for the offer.'

All Schneeple could do was keep on laughing and laughing and laughing with the grin of a madman in place, almost wheezing as Gooper's two parts literally dug into the doctor's sides as much as they were physically able; Gooper was just trying to see whether Schneeple had gotten any squishier!

'FAHAHAHACK FAHAHAAAAACK!!'

Iplier had figured that Schneeple wouldn't be able to respond to his smart comment, but he was shocked at how Schneeple just went right out and swore right in Gooper's earshot! Iplier would find out later though that Gooper already knew every single swear word under the sun; Anti had taught Gooper all the swears in existence just in the hopes that one day they'd hear a little gurgly ''fuck''....someday. Ah, anyway.

'Jeez, does a week without tickles really make you this much more sensitive?'

Iplier exclaimed playfully, and giggled when Schneeple gave him a lazy glare amidst a series of new gasps; Gooper had decided to have mercy at Schneeple's sides now, and the doctor ended up whining and giggling in a somewhat dazed fashion. He felt like he'd literally be impaled by tickles.

'Shhhshshhuhush....ahahahhh....'

Schneeple rubbed his torso embarrassedly and tried to catch as much of his breath as possible....and because of said actions, that meant that Schneeple's thoughts and perceptions were occupied. Schneeple didn't notice what Iplier noticed. Iplier felt excitement rising in him when he saw the two lumps, the halves of Gooper's body, under Schneeple's clothing start to move very carefully. They moved down away from his sides and over his hips, before Iplier saw them move under his jeans to settle on the tops of his thighs. It was only then that Iplier realised he had not replied to his friend, so he elected to remedy that.

'Maybe you should save up your breath instead of using it to give me orders....'

At Iplier's purr, the good doctor craned his neck up from his position on the floor with a glare in place and a voice ready to give a sassy reply....but of course....now Schneeple senses had returned; he saw what Iplier had seen. He gulped and looked down to his thighs, where the two lumps were resting under his jeans in a scarily still fashion. In truth, Gooper himself had been resting a little, it did take him quite a bit of energy to control both his halves when they were separate from each other after all; he was also letting the doctor recover though, because he wanted him to have lots of air for his finale! Which, now that there were no more sounds of Schneeple's desperate panting, Gooper decided to initiate.

'Ohono....h-hey....G-Gooper my littl-AAAAAAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHA BIHIHITTE BIHIHIHITTE!!!'

Bless him, Schneeple had tried out reasoning....as if that was ever going to work. Iplier cocked his head at Schneeple fondly, god he was so cute when he begged in german. Needless to say, Schneeple was completely and utterly hysterical with laughter as Gooper's forms kneaded and vibrated against the tops of his thighs without any glimmer of mercy....plus, Schneeple could feel Iplier's eyes on him and that was beyond flustering. Oh, and then of course there were Iplier's teases.

'Hmmm, maybe you should call out more, I don't know if you're being loud enough there Hen'.'

Even though he was in the midst of losing it in mirth, Schneeple had just enough capacity to make a mental note to absolutely wreck Iplier's shit later. I mean c'mon, the nickname too! Anti already called him Hen, or rather Mother Hen, enough when he was at home and looking after the Septics! Schneeple had tears rolling down his face now as he howled with high pitched laughter; he was also letting out wails and cries as he endured pinches along with the murderous, tickly kneading at his thigh muscles.

'FAHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHA IHIHIHIHIIIIP!!!'

Ahhh wonderful incoherency, Iplier loved witnessing it. Schneeple thought he was just going insane with mirth, but meanwhile Gooper felt that he himself was going insane with joy! He was already happy from Schneeple being back, but now he could feel all of Schneeple's tickly happiness and he'd just missed it so much! Gooper kept up his kneading and pinching as Iplier observed Schneeple a little more closely now. Schneeple was writhing and desperately hitting the floor whilst also staying in practically a foetal position. Never once did Schneeple reach for the lumps at his thighs, nor had he previously reached for Gooper when he was at his sides or tummy or back....and Iplier sighed a soft sigh as he whispered.

'Wow....you really missed it, didn't you?'

Schneeple managed to meet Iplier's eyes, just for a moment....because he knew what Iplier meant. Yes he was desperate and hysterical....but HECK he had missed it! Admitting it internally helped bring the doctor to a truly flustered incoherency at this point, but it was the truth. Every day....every day with Gooper meant that you got tickled, if you wanted it. That meant that every day that Schneeple had even had a hint of a want for being tickled, Gooper was on him and tickling him before Schneeple had even realised he had the lee mood himself. Having such affection and such constancy like that was like a method of emotional support for Schneeple, especially since Gooper literally wanted to tickle everybody all the darn time. So as even more tears came to Schneeple's eyes, they weren't just from tickly mirth, but also just happiness at being able to reconnect with all of this awesomeness again.

'EEEHEHEHEHAHAHA GGGHHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!'

Schneeple threw his head back as screams and shrieks of laugher left him, and Gooper gurgled with joy at having been able to coax them all out of his Schneeple. Now though, he decided to have mercy because Gooper loved Schneeple very much and wanted him to still be able to think and function properly. Iplier smiled as he watches Gooper's forms seep through Schneeple's jeans and reform in his lap as the doctor himself gasped and trembled in the wake of the tickling actually being over. Schneeple sniffled softly, then looked to his lap with a tender smile before scooping Gooper up and cuddling him to his chest.

'Ahahah....ohohoho....sweheet Gohooper.....'

Iplier smiled at the scene, and made a mental note to send Schneeple all the security camera footage from the office later, just because he was a little shit. Iplier ambled over to Schneeple and offered him his hand with a smile, and over the next few moments he helped ease Schneeple into a standing position; he reached forward and used his sleeve to dab at his friend's damp cheeks as he playfully whispered.

'Sweet Schneeple too I think....'

Schneeple looked away bashfully, but couldn't help but hum as Iplier dried his face of tears. Now that he was properly recovered, he started petting Gooper like it was second nature as he addressed Iplier with a wide grin.

'I ahah, I decided I would stay at your Iplier place tonight. Apparently many people want to be able to give this little one a little farewell....I cannot wait to hear what you have been up to to get so many admirers....'

Iplier chuckled as Schneeple ended off by crooning down at Gooper, who gurgled proudly because he knew they were talking about how he'd managed to make a lot of the other Iplier's happy; Gooper had decided that his number one goal was to make people happy. Iplier let out a soft hum as he mused.

'Oh he's had a few adventures with us-oh! That reminds me, we ah, we have something for him, from all of us...'

Schneeple raised his eyebrows curiously as Gooper wiggled, encased by his own curiosity. Was it a gift of some sort?! Iplier had wandered to the cupboard under his desk and opened it up, taken something out, closed the cupboard, then come back with the object in hand. It was a cardboard box with Gooper's jumper nest in it initially...but in pride of place were a few new, distinct items: a little pillow made out of a clean bandage from the Host, there was also a spare bolt with a little yellow thread tied in a bow around it from Eric, some sweet pressed lavender flowers from Dark, a little pink moustache plushy from Wilford, a big green paperclip from Google, and a diaphragm from one of Iplier's stethoscopes. Schneeple felt his heart warm at the sight of it all....the sight of all the good that Gooper had done.

Both doctors smiled when Gooper squealed and glowed with intense emotion before hopping into his box and setting about organising all the pretty gifts. Gooper couldn't believe he had gifts from all the sweet Iplier's had met, they were so nice! Host, Eric, Dark, Wilford, Google, and of course the doctor Iplier; those names went round and around Gooper's mind....he was determined to never forget them. The doctors then smiled at one another, and with Gooper in his box and his box in hand they left the doctor's office together, and Schneeple mused as they made their way to the Iplier home.

'So, tell me about The Gooper Adventures.'

AHHHH I HOPE THIS IS A NICE CONCLUSION LEMME KNOW IF YOU GUYS LIKE IT AAAAHHHH LUV YOUS XX

[lilacivories]

following the rules

characters: Deceit, Patton, Roman

pairings: none

summary: Deceit is a sore loser, but Roman and Patton simply won’t have any of it.

word count: 1,449

a/n: I changed the prompt a little bit but it’s not really much different besides the fact that Logan isn’t in it.

“And...Uno!”

“Wow, again! You’re really good at this, sport!”

Deceit glared at Roman, who sat smugly next to him on the carpet. “Oh, yes, you’re a card master. I have never met anyone so ingenious before.”

The prince gasped. “Oh, why thank you! That last play was pretty excellent it, wasn’t it?”

Patton frowned at Deceit’s eye roll. “Aw, no need to sulk, Dee. You can’t always be a winner!”

“Unless you’re me!” Roman sang; Deceit hunched his shoulders and let out an annoyed hiss at him.

“Hey, now,” Patton interjected. “We all promised no fighting. Why don’t we play another game?”

Deceit crossed his arms and leaned back against the couch, the beginnings of a pout forming on his face. “Oh, yes, let’s play another dull game of chance so that I can lose another five rounds in a row.”

“I wouldn’t encourage you to be such a downer,” Roman chided, his smile turning sly. “We have certain rules in place about that.”

“Oh, I’m terrified,” Deceit drawled, but Patton was giggling and shooting a few knowing glances his way; if he wasn’t terrified, then he was at least a bit worried, and it showed in his tight posture and fidgeting tongue.

Patton wagged a teasing finger his way. “You’re on thin ice, kiddo! I’d be careful if I were you!”

Deceit couldn’t take it any longer. “Or what?” he demanded.

Roman’s strong arms were suddenly wrapped around his waist, and Deceit’s back was pulled flush against the prince’s chest. He let out a shout and kicked haphazardly, but he had been thrust into quite the vulnerable position, with his attacker behind him.

“Release me immediately!” he hissed, a flush finding its way to his cheeks.

“Oh, it’s just a bit of fun, Dee!” Patton assured. “We just don’t want you to be so gloomy!”

Deceit had an inkling of what they were planning, based on how he often was privy to the other facets’ idea of fun. They had only just begun to invite him to their ‘family events’, including their weekly movie nights. But before that, Deceit had only been able to listen to their vast multitude of tickle fights, one-sided or no.

He’d be lying (as was his job) if he said he didn’t feel as though he was missing out; receiving affectionate touch was a rare opportunity for him, so literally being in someone’s arms was not something Deceit really wanted to fight. However, admitting this would be heavily embarrassing, so he was at a loss on whether to feign hatred of the situation or to allow himself to embrace the moment.

“Like I said, we have certain rules about having an attitude,” Roman teased into his ear. Deceit wasn’t sure he’d be able to move even if he wanted to at this point, because he was attempting to keep himself from jittering with excitement. “So we have a little warning punishment set up just in case you don’t feel like complying.”

A ridiculous, goofy smile had already forced its way on Deceit’s face before Roman even started tickling, but once he did, the poor thing was near hysteric almost immediately.

“Merlin’s beard!” Roman exclaimed. “I had no clue if you were even ticklish at all, but it looks like I hit the jackpot!”

Dee snorted in between belly laughs as the prince squeezed and prodded at his sides, wiggling half-heartedly in his arms. The other two facets couldn’t help but laugh along with him, not expecting Deceit to have such an infectious laugh.

Patton moved over to kneel between Deceit’s legs as Roman tickled him expertly from behind, kneading his fingers up and down his sides, sometimes teasing at his ribs before spidering back down over his quaking tummy.

“Maybe next time you won’t be such a sore loser,” he admonished with a giggle, and then reached over to tickle behind their victim’s knees.

“I’m nahahahahahaaa!” Deceit tried his best to speak, but words were eluding him in favor of mindless cackles, especially with the added sensation behind his knees (he really hadn’t known that they could even be ticklish).

“You’re too much of a gloomy goober, Deceit!” Roman insisted. “But lucky for us, you’re a very ticklish one! I can’t believe we ever thought you posed any sort of threat!”

Deceit felt his ears burn hot at the teasing, but he didn’t have a chance to try to defend himself when Roman’s fingers managed to find the edge of his shirt and start to tickle underneath, and when Patton decided to start squeezing at the soft flesh of his thighs just above his knees. He scrabbled at the prince’s arms and kicked his legs, cackling with abandon, but his actions were weak and uncoordinated, and he gave up altogether soon after. Deceit was absolutely, without a doubt, trapped.

After a few more minutes, a break was administered, and Deceit was left panting and red-faced in the prince’s arms.

Roman was chuckling. “I never thought I’d say it without reluctance, but you’re full of surprises! I’ve never seen someone struggle so little while being tickled.”

Deceit stiffened in his hold, realizing his mistake far too late.

“He was probably just having tons of fun! Weren’t you, Dee?” Patton cooed, wiggling his fingers at him with a laugh.

“No!” Deceit spluttered out; his ears were the color of tomatoes in a new record. “I was not having fun. I did not enjoy that at all. I– I hate all of this– this– whatever you call it–”

“It’s called tickling, Sir Hissy Fit,” the prince corrected. “Just something else I happen to be a master of!” He proved his point by vibrating his fingers in between Deceit’s ribs, who shrieked and melted back into his chest, barely attempting to wriggle away.

“Aw, he does like it!” Patton cried. “Gosh, you’re so darn cute, Dee!” He pushed up Deceit’s shirt a little before spidering his fingers all over his bare tummy, beaming at the snorts he was rewarded with.

“No!” Deceit squealed.

“Yes you are!” Patton cooed in a baby voice. “You’re a cutie with a ticklish little tummy! Cootchie cootchie cootchie coo!”

Deceit finally managed to cover his face with his hands, muffling his squeals. The other two laughingly discouraged it, but finally let up once again when he was wheezing more than laughing to let him breathe. Roman released his grip around Deceit’s waist, and let him just settle against his chest as their victim giggled himself calm.

Roman rubbed Deceit’s arms to soothe him. “I do hope you had fun with that. At least, it sure looked like it.”

Dee crinkled up his nose and ducked his head to hide his flush. “I absolutely did not,” he grumbled. He supposed he had been wrong to believe that they would all treat him like a friend, but it certainly didn’t seem to have taken them long at all to find something to mock him for.

Patton slouched down to try and meet his gaze. “Oh, kiddo, we’re not laughing at you! There’s no need to be embarrassed about anything! If it wasn’t obvious, we were enjoying ourselves just as much as you were!”

It took a second, but Deceit finally glanced up at the other facet. “...Really?”

“Absolutely, kiddo!” Patton assured. “We wouldn’t tease you like that.”

“Oh, no, certainly not!” Roman added. “We’re always willing to tease you in other ways, though!” Patton wriggled his pointer finger into Deceit’s belly button, and the poor thing squealed, jerked away, and lost his balance; he toppled out of Roman’s lap and onto the floor, scrambling to pull his shirt down.

Once his composure had returned and the laughter had finally died down, Deceit returned to his previous seat in front of the couch on the floor. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to choose another game,” he said.

“That’s the spirit!” Roman exclaimed, rushing to the closet for a board game.

While Patton cleaned up the mess from their Uno game, Deceit crossed his arms, watching him for a moment before looking down at his lap and speaking.

“Patton. I...would like to mention that I definitely am not interested in...doing that again.” He tried to ignore the faint blush that was rising on his cheeks again.

Patton looked at him, confused at first, but a sunny smile quickly spread on his face. “Aww, kiddo!” he squealed. “I’m sure we can make a habit not to include you in any of our usual shenanigans from now on.”

Roman and Patton were both happy to see Dee smile for the rest of the day, both voluntarily and with a bit of help. They were all glad that no one complained about the noise, at least.