#alternate roommates au

[ellionwrites]

1. “You think you’re the only one who can find a date?” Geto paused his inspection of himself to meet Gojo's gaze in the mirror. “Ah, no, sorry. You don't go on dates. You have to know the other person's name for it to count as a date.”

Behind the near black of his sunglasses, Gojo’s eyes widened with exaggerated offense.

“You can’t slut shame anymore, Suguru. It’s 2010,” Gojo teased, as he flopped back on Geto’s bed.

“I’m not slut shaming you. I’m saying you’re not in a position to act like me going on a first date is a scandal."

Gojo tipped his head backwards and leveled Geto with an over-dramatic eye roll. 

He does that to make people notice how pretty his eyes are. 

“It’s not a scandal. It’s…”

Whatever Gojo thought it was was a mystery, because he was uncharacteristically lost for words. 

Despite what Gojo might accuse him of, Geto was not a sex negative person or a prude. 

He was just madly in love with his best-friend-slash-roommate, and every time Satoru stumbled home with his clothes rumpled and his hair fingered through, Geto felt like burning Tokyo to the ground.

It was all the unhinged, unrealistic pining that led Geto to make this plan in the first place.

The Plan: Geto was going to get over his straight, no-strings-sex-only, relationship-phobic best friend.

Step One of The Plan: Find literally anyone else in the entire world that he could think about kissing without wanting to die.

- - - - Read more cut - - - -

A month earlier, he’d gone so far as to get a guy’s phone number. He’d popped into a café after a particularly foul curse he’d absorbed – hoping to wash the taste out of his mouth with tea and a pastry – and the barista had such a stark white shock of messy hair that Geto had done a doubletake to make sure Gojo wasn’t fucking around in a coffee shop on some bizarre mission objective.

The barista had been, admittedly, extremely attractive. His hair was bleached, but it suited him, and he had pleasing, well-proportioned features. Working on pure adrenaline and determination, Geto had asked him for his number. The guy had turned beet red but managed to stutter out his info to Geto.

Almost as soon as Geto left the café, though, the little nits and snags started to pop up in his mind.

Obviously, the eyes were all wrong. The shyness wasn’t right. The smile. His voice. He wasn’t tall enough, and his hands didn’t have that same graceful strength.

It was a laundry list of how fake-Satoru was emphatically not Satoru.

Geto wasn’t even all the way down the block before he deleted the barista’s info from his phone.

Now Geto was on attempt number two: a first date with a man who in absolutely no way resembled Satoru Gojo.

His non-Gojo-ness was exactly what prompted Geto to ask the man at the train station for his number. Shota was short, burly, square-faced, and serious. Geto had only clocked the man’s interest by the overly long looks he’d shot him.

At least I'm good at reading people…

“Hey, you should bring her back here,” Gojo said – pulling Geto’s attention back to the present. “We can watch that new horror movie. Human Earthworm.”

…unlike my oblivious best friend.

“Are you seriously asking to be the third wheel on my date?”

Gojo’s face was upside down - his head practically hanging off the end of Geto’s bed. The odd angle must have been what made Gojo’s smile look off.

“You worried she’ll be more interested in your hot roommate?”

Geto shot him an unamused look.

“I don’t know why anyone agrees to sleep with you,” Geto lied. “Your head’s so big, it seems like a crush risk.”

“They can tell I’m killer in bed,” Gojo smirked. “The risk is worth the reward.”

Geto turned away and pulled at the shirt he was wearing. He didn’t totally love it, but he also didn’t care as much as he should about impressing Shota.

It wasn’t as if Geto was about to fall in love with this train station stranger, but if he at least went through the motions, maybe his brain would get with the program and start considering non-Satoru people as potential romantic interests.

“But, seriously, Suguru,” Gojo said as he folded his hands under his head – making the hem of his shirt ride up. “What’s up with this date? I thought you weren’t into that sort of thing.”

Geto’s eyes drew immediately to the sliver of skin above the waistband of Gojo’s slim-fit black joggers. 

The peek of skin couldn’t have been more than an inch wide, but Geto could see twin ridges of definition. The visual set Geto’s mind racing, thinking about the rest of Gojo’s skin.

Damn him for having a nice body.

“I’m trying to make myself get into it,” Geto said, wholly distracted by seeing Gojo’s abs and trying to not let his body get worked up, as if he were still a horny highschooler.

“Ohhh,” Gojo replied, his tone brightening. “I get it.”

Geto’s stomach flopped over as Satoru sprang up.

Did I just out myself?

“What do you get?”

“Nothing,” Geto said with a toothy grin that implied otherwise. “But - just so you know - I like you the way you are, Suguru.”

The idiot part of Geto’s heart – i.e., the whole of it – thumped hopefully.

“If you don’t want to date anyone, don’t date anyone,” Gojo added, cheerily. “I won’t let anyone talk shit about my best friend. I mean, who cares if you’re a virgin?”

Geto’s idiot heart plopped down into his stomach.

Gojo thought he was a crotchety prude who’d rather spend his whole life celibate than have any fun, and he still definitely had Geto squarely in the friend zone.

Obviously you’re in the friendzone, you idiot. He’s straight.

(Complete fic on AO3)

[insanityfall]

Dead Plate swap au, Vince and Rody.

[miss-spookhead]

thinking about a Blast From the Past steddie au tonight. like, think about it for a second--steve as the sweet, well-meaning himbo raised in a fallout shelter and eddie as the cynic who shows him the world as it is:

The year was 1962, and an atomic bomb had just dropped on top of the Harrington household.

Okay, not really. It was actually a fighter jet that suffered a mechanical failure just above the little plot of land the Harringtons called their home, but Walter Harrington took it differently. Far differently.

See, the thing was that the man was living in a state of paranoid delusion over the Cold War--terrified of the possibility of an outright nuclear holocaust over the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Soviet Union. He had been carefully building a fallout shelter under his home for his wife and possible children to live in with the works--canned food, running water, and even a working television.

And one day they went in and simply never left. The explosion right when they closed the door was tangible proof that the nuclear war was happening right above them.

A few years later, around 1968, a baby boy was born in a fallout shelter with no one but his mom and dad to keep him company.

They raised Steve the best they could, even if Walter Harrington was a mad genius and Madeline Harrington was a borderline alcoholic. Even if the boy was living in a perfect little time capsule of the fifties and early sixties. Walter made sure to educate him right and teach him how to be a sociable gentleman--even if he had no idea what swear words or the concept of sex were. That was for another time. Although, twenty-four years came and went for Steve Harrington, his father still owes him 'another time'.

Steve Harrington grows twenty-four years in perfect seclusion, but that changes at the flick of a switch.

The year is 1992: supplies are dwindling Walter is growing sick, and Steve is tasked to bravely set foot in the nuclear fallout to retrieve more material. (The only reason why Walter assumes they can even get more stuff is because he observed the outside world when the shelter unlocked and mistook it as a post-apocalyptic mutant society.)

The moment Steve made it outside his little bubble, he was utterly fascinated by the world--how different the people were outside of his television and his little books, how bright the sky was outside, how the irritable man on the bus wouldn't accept the money he tried to give him, how the bus moved and didn't fling him right off his seat.

(He even saw an adult bookstore. Dad told him that those things were filled with poisonous gas. How were they even to operate if they were filled with poisonous gas? That's dangerous and totally inconsiderate of the general public's safety.)

Anyway, he tries to follow the grocery list that Mom and Dad gave him the best he can, stocking up on poultry and tissue paper and the works. But by the end of the day, he doesn't know where he came from. Not a single sign or building or person can give him a single clue where to go.

After a few hours of wandering, suitcase in hand, he comes across a store with WE BUY BASEBALL CARDS written on the window.

Golly, Steve loves baseball cards--could look at Dad's collection for hours, and with the collection he has, he could make a pretty penny selling them for supplies. Despite the little hobby store being beside an adult bookstore with poisonous gas, he scampers right in.

"I see you're looking to buy baseball cards," he says breezily to the gruff, scary-looking man behind the counter.

"That I am," he replies.

Steve pulls a few from his jacket's inner pocket. "Well, these are a bit old, you see, but I was hoping you still might be interested."

The gruff man yanks them from his hands, a spark in his eye. He looks delighted to see them, and it fills Steve with an excitement he hadn't felt at all today. Nobody has been this happy over something he's done today. "Woah," he gasps, then covers it with a cough. "Mickey Mantle rookie season...how much do you want?"

"I was hoping to sell all of my cards, actually!"

The man sputters incredulously. "All of 'em? Are you fucking with me?"

"I'm not sure what that means, but all I have are hundred-dollar bills and I need something smaller. Like, uh...ones, tens, fives..."

"Tell you what, I'll give you five hundred in small bills for all you got."

Steve smiles brightly. "Oh, that would be wonderful, sir--"

"Five hundred for a case-full of rookie season Mickey Mantles, Rick, are you fucking joking?" A deep voice cuts through Steve's thanks from the other side of the small store. He turns around to find a man leaning against a magazine rack, arms folded sternly.

The man is unlike Steve's ever seen before. Long, long limbs and big brown eyes that look traced with black and smudged around the edges. Pretty lips, too almost girl-ish, in the way they were big and plush like the women he'd see on the television. The strangest thing about him, though, was the curly hair that tumbled past his shoulders.

He looked mad, though. Madder than mad.

"Tell the poor guy you're fucking with him," long-hair-pretty-lips says to the man behind the counter, who bristles.

"Were you raised in a fucking barn, Munson? Who told you to interrupt on business?" Rick counters. Steve was really not appreciating the amount of f-words dropped in the conversation, it was uncouth.

"Sure I was!" Munson saunters towards the counter and Steve's eyes follow him like a moth to a light. "But my morals go past your business practices at this point. You remember the ninth commandment, yeah?"

"You shut your Goddamn mouth--"

"Excuse me sir, but I really don't appreciate how you're using the Lord's name in vain like that," Steve says firmly.

"See?" Munson smiles. It's like sunlight. "He gets it."

He plucks the baseball card from Rick's hand and holds it over his head when he tries to reach for it again. "See this little thing?" He says to Steve sweetly. "This guy costs six grand alone."

"Get out of town! Really?"

"Oh yeah, big guy. Selling the thing would give you a small fortune, and Rick over here is trying to con you out of it."

Steve frowns. "Is that true?" He asks Rick.

"Nothing but," Munson says in place of him. He slips the card back into Steve's hands and gives them a pat.

"The Hell is even keeping you here, Munson?" Rick sneers. "Did the gig you won't shut up about fall through like they usually do? Better to bum it out here than in your shithole apartment? Stop loitering in my damn store and make like a fucking tree. You're banned."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Munson says rolling his eyes. He looks at Steve, then the door, gesturing at it with a flick of his head. "I'll see you out, Beaver."

He walks them both out the door, stopping to gesture at Rick strangely--hands balled into fists with only his middle fingers up--before stepping outside onto the sidewalk.

"Well merci, Monsieur," Steve says appreciatively, because Dad taught him French was always to be used on such occasions.

"What, you're French?"

"Oh no, I'm"--he thinks back to what Dad told him if a mutant asks where he's from. Gosh, he thinks he's supposed to be--"out on business."

"And you don't even have a clue about the little business trick that Rick tried to pull?"

"No...no, I--"

"Yeah, doesn't matter." Munson shrugs. He smiles sympathetically at Steve before turning on his heel and walking off. Oh boy, what would he do without him?

He follows him like a lost puppy, that's what.

"...You going the same way?" Munson asks incredulously. Steve shakes his head.

"Well, I'm following you."

Munson stops in his tracks, blinking, and Steve almost runs into him in his state. "Me?"

"Well yes! Where are we going?"

"We?" Munson asserts. "I'm going back to my shithole apartment, and judging by that jacket you're wearing, you should be taking the next left and hop-skipping straight to the barber college."

"Oh, I'm lost, though."

"Aren't we all?"

"Say, did you just get banned from that hobby store because of me?" Steve says to change the subject.

Munson sighs. "Seems like I did, sailor. The place was shitty anyways, with that dickhead running the operation. Wayne could get better cards from a different joint."

...dickhead? Steve's never heard that leave the seams of anyone's lips before. "Dickhead?"

"Yeah, he's a real fucking loser. A walking talking penis capable of human speech."

Steve gets queasy at the image he's concocted in his head. He leans against the nearest brick wall, his suitcase tumbling to the ground as he drops into a contemplative squat.

"Dude, what is wrong with you?"

"Well, the mental image that I..."

Munson's eyebrows scrunch before he reaches out a hand to Steve. He takes it, letting the man haul him upward. "Look, man, where'd you park your car?"

"I came by bus."

"Aren't you full of surprises."

"I am?"

"Okay look." Eddie raises his hands, palms splayed in the air. "It's your first time in Los Angeles, right? Everyone wants a taste of it, I know, and you're out for business and fucking famished. You got the opportunity to see the great big world outside of your little bubble and you got excited--but you took a bus and got mixed up in the middle of San Fernando Valley without a clue in the world. Am I correct?"

Steve listens in wonderment. So far, Munson's been correct in a way. He's convinced he might be psychic. He nods slowly and seriously just to see Munson flash that lighting-strike smile.

"Great, great. Which brings us to here. Correct again?"

"Oh yeah."

"Where are you staying?"

Nowhere, at the moment. Steve opens his mouth to say so, but Munson interrupts quickly. "Holiday Inn?"

"Yes, the Holiday Inn!" Steve says totally truthfully.

"Okay, cool. Cool." Munson claps his hands together with finality and starts walking. "The nearest bus station is a couple of blocks away if you take a right--"

"Don't you have a car?"

Munson stops in his tracks again. He turns to face Steve once again. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Something warm pools in Steve's gut at the pet name. Something about the way those pretty lips form that word sends blood rushing to his cheeks. "Steve," he says.

"Alright, Steve." Oh boy, his name sounds even better when Munson says it. "Rule number one in Los Angeles? Never let a stranger drive you anywhere."

"If it makes you feel any better," Steve says sweetly, "I don't have a gun."

Munson pales, then starts running.

"Hey!" Steve cries and makes haste to follow him. "I must've said something wrong, please forgive me!"

"Nope, nope--get the fuck away from me, man!"

He grabs Munson's wrist to pull him back, which is a bad move since the man starts writhing around in his grip. "I'm not going to hurt you, sir!"

Steve drops Munson's hand and raises his in surrender. "See?"

"...Just let me get to my car."

"I'll give you a Rogers Hornsby if you take me to my hotel," Steve reasons.

Munson stills. "...That's like four grand, don't bullshit me."

He pulls the card from his jacket and presents it as evidence. "See? I was holding it back." He wants Munson to feel safe. "I got two." He reaches for the other cards in his pockets and pulls them out. "And-and all these other ones, too!"

"Okay, okay. You'll give me four thousand dollars if I drive you to your place?"

"Uh-uh!"

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"And I don't have to give you a quickie in the backseat or anything?"

"Yes sir--wait, what?"

Munson blows past his question like it didn't even leave Steve's mouth. "Can you stop with the sir crap?"

"Well, I'm sorry, sir--"

"My name is Eddie."

Eddie...Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Wow, what a name. It's almost like something he's heard on the television.

"Why, it's nice to meet you, Eddie."

"Tolerable to meet you too, Steve."

Steve smiles shyly, then asks, "So are you a girl?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well it's just your hair...it's so long." Steve points at his as an example. "I've never seen anything like it before."

"Dude, it's 1992, every other guy looks like this--have you been living under a rock or something?"

Something like that. Steve shrugs.

"Well guys having long hair doesn't mean that they're girls, Steve, that's a given. It's not 1962 anymore." Eddie backtracks. "Well, I mean, dudes can have long hair and be chicks and chicks can be dudes too but that's not--"

"Oh, wow, my dad told me about one of those the last time he went here!"

"Oh that's fantastic, sweetheart," Eddie says, sugary-sweet. "But how about I drive you home?"

"That'd be a pleasure, Eddie."

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Uh-oh I'm Falling in Love (Oh, I'm Falling in Love)

Pairing: Alex Claremont-Diaz x Henry Fox

Rating: E

Tags: Roommate AU; Phone sex operator AU; Explicit sexual scenes; Explicit language; Phone sex; Masturbation; Fluff; Angst; Hurt/Comfort

Chapters: 1/1 (Complete)

Summary:

Despite the compelling desire, Alex reluctantly admitted, “I don't know. I mean…I am very new to this.” A warm chuckle escaped from the man. He said, “You should have led with that, darling. You're not the first caller to call us in the…middle of a crisis.” “I'm not?” “No, not indeed. We have had few callers like you who want to experiment. What's better than experimenting with someone you don't know and won't ever know?” Alex breathed out softly. Sighing, Alex positions himself against the headboard, adjusting the pillows behind him to create a comfortable space. In his muddled brain, Alex made a note, ‘send a fruit basket to Nora’. Because to be perfectly candid, it was Nora's ingenious idea to untangle him from the predicament—an unintentional web spun by the presence of his exasperatingly attractive roommate, Henry fucking Fox.

Alex's new roommate sends him into a spiral. Nora hands him over the number of a hotline - "Whispers of Desire". And chaos ensues

Read it HERE.

[england-would-fall]

Hitting the ground running for this WIP Wednesday with the opening to a new sweet and sexy alt meet FirstPrince fic. Alex doesn't have a secret crush on June's coworker Henry. Nora doesn't dare a drunk Alex to kiss him at the office party they've dragged him to. Henry doesn't complain to June about rent in New York, and June does not shove her annoying man-child brother into a sublet. Or maybe that does happen. You can't take my word for it, I'm a writer. Writers lie.

June’s laugh rose above the click-click-click of the gas burner lighting. “What, decaf?” “Abomination,” Alex muttered, turning back to the envelopes in his hand. Who sent paper mail anymore? He dropped the ones he’d flipped through already and stared down at the expensive cream stationery remaining. Careful handwriting addressed the piece to Ms. June Claremont-Diaz in an ink much more blue than blue ink tended to be. Alex flipped it over to find the same gently slanted script revealing the sender. Of course.

Tagging @taste-thewaste @luainthewild @onthewaytosomewhere @couldvebeenus and @typicalopposite -- and of course anyone else who wants to gift us with their words!

[rocketyship]

Does Evan like AM? Or, at the very least, finds his presence more tolerable than the other humans?

Idk what they got going on, highly doubt that even Evan knows

[skeleton-mischief]

Solar Eclipse

How would each skeleton react to a Solar Eclipse? Especially if the other skeletons and you were around? Well, let's see. To note, this does not include the Fellswap!G brothers but it does include tale, fell, swap, horror, and both swapfells. There is even a surprise for one more at the end ;)

Vanilla: He would be one of the few to know about what a solar eclipse is in the first place. He wanted to show the others a rare sight, and he even provided glasses for the others. He would find it neat, and as he sipped on a glass of lemonade, he noticed Cyperus holding your hand. He finds it cute and winks at you playfully, raising his glass. He doesn't mind that you're occupied, especially since he can occupy his time teasing Red. He enjoys seeing how everyone is reacting, even if some of them were dragged to participate

Cyperus: He panicked when he was told that the sun was going to disappear. At first, he grabbed Pitch and shook him, shouting about the end of all light. Of course, it was you who had to grab him and reassure him. He would turn to look at Vanilla for confirmation, but he'd end up relaxing. He gets a little nervous, and he would ask if you'd let him hold your hand when it happens. He would find your presence comforting, especially since his anxiety would make him unsure. He would be thankful, though. The moment he finds himself in awe, he shakes you with excitement before pointing at it and shouting about how cool it is

Powder: He would have learned about it because Stretch was rambling about it when they were underground. Stretch has a love for planets, and it would make him happy to know that his brother gets to finally see one. He would provide drinks for everyone, organizing everything. He'd take you aside for a moment and ask if you'd help make sure the others aren't losing their shit. He mentions that Saint will most likely be the most nervous about it. He admits that he plans to make sure the others have a good time, even if he has to drag some of the others out. He finds the solar eclipse to be... beautiful, even if he was a little flustered seeing how pretty you looked when you gazed upon the sky. He gets teased a bit, especially by Razz, but he responds by elbowing his ribcage, muttering for him to shut up. The two end up getting a bit argumentative, but it's less intense since Carmine smacks Razz's skull and Powder tries to prevent further fighting

Stretch: He's the MOST excited out of everyone. Instead of stars being his special interest like Vanilla, it would be planets. He would be rambling to you about it and even get Cash and Rus to be excited. He's a little embarrassed when he catches himself, but seeing that you don't mind would make him all sappy. He's the first to be up on the roof, sitting next to Rus and you. He would press his arm against you, nudging you a bit as he asks if you're ready. He would be mumbling to himself about the sight, in awe. You can't help but find it...endearing. It's funny though when he and Rus start fangirling, the two getting distracted as they catch Cash getting excited

Red: Like Vanilla, he heard about it before. He's a little unsure of how to feel, but he tries to act indifferent. He sort of gets flustered though when Vanilla messes with him about how the tough guy seems to feel unsure. Seeing you all excited would make him a little soft, especially since he rarely gets to see you look this way. He'd sort of wrap an arm around you before the event, pulling you close as he teases you a bit. "well, even if this doesn't mean too much to me, I'm glad to see you enjoying yourself sweetheart," During the solar eclipse, he'll steal a few glances your way, even if he tells Vanilla to shut up when hes caught. He's not that affected, no. He also looks at Pitch throughout, and he kinda chuckles to himself to see his brother actually in awe about something so openly. Vanilla gets him to admit that he's also excited, earning him a playful elbowing as the two are more focused on how the others are reacting

Pitch: He didn't want to admit it, but he also was kind of panicked about the solar eclipse. He didn't know what everyone meant, and he sort of starts to check on everyone's safety. He goes to you at some point and points a phalange your way. "YOU. YOU'RE....OKAY WITH THIS?? THE SUN IS GOING MISSING, IS THIS JUST FINE WITH YOU????" He's confused if anything, even if his voice is as rough as it is. You laugh a bit before moving his gloved hand away. He tries to hide how the action makes him pause, and he listens to what you're saying when you explain it to him. He takes a moment, and then he pulls his hand away with a "HMPH. I SEE. .....WELL! THANK YOU." and he nods his head at you with his frown, but it's less intense. You don't miss the way his shoulders loosen, but you don't comment on it. He sort of stands awkwardly, and speaks up finally. ".... DON'T TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS, OKAY..?" It clicks at that moment that he was too shy to ask the others about it. You nod, and in turn he straightens up and awkwardly bows slightly before he struts away. He scolds Rus and Cash when they're all on the roof, especially since they didn't put on their glasses at first. However, his focus is on Lunar. He asked you about the eclipse for his own sake, and secretly Lunar's as well. He doesn't let anyone see Lunar's hand clinging onto his sleeve, not even commenting on it. He wants to act collected, but he's just as nervous. When it happens though, it's.... actually fascinating. He doesn't even notice how his jaw is agape, his eyelight smaller. This was new, but...he is less nervous about it now.

Saint: Oh fuck, he's not having a good time at first. After everything underground before he was pulled to Vanilla's world?? He's having an awful time, even if it's explained to him. It's not from a lack of knowledge, but rather the fear of what could happen and the fear of that darkness. He was just getting used to the Sun. In front of the others though, he's silent and acts like he's not internally freaking out. He can't help that his hand starts scratching at his eye socket, or how his eyes are pinned on the sky as he's up on the roof before the others. He's fidgeting, and he doesn't even realize it. When you're free from Cyperus since he's excitedly talking to the others, you see him. Scooting over to him, he flinches when he feels your hand gently grabbing his own. You pry his clawed phalanges away from his eye socket, holding it as you quietly look at him. Your hands are soft and warm as you smile before muttering, "Hey, it's okay." He just kind of stares, silent as his eyelight slowly starts to dilate. Before you realize it, he pulls you to sit directly between his legs. You can hear the slight shift of his skull as he rests his jaw against your shoulder, and only then does he feel content. He grumbles a bit as you go, but only a bit as he hesitates. He suspects where you're going, and decides to focus on the berries as he bashes Carmine and Razz's skull. He threatens them with a grin to behave or go inside, especially since Powder was so nice as to get everyone comfortable. The rest of the time they're up there, he's talking to Powder and being all friendly

Lunar: He doesn't intend to be so nervous about something like this, but he didn't realize how much the solar eclipse was going to make him nervous. He was a lot more reserved, his hands fidgeting with his scarf. It was Pitch who noticed, and it was him who asked what was wrong after dinnertime. He's cleaning the dishes as Lunar dries them and puts them away on the rack, the two not looking at one another as he admits the truth. Pitch doesn't judge him, even going so far as to offer his company during the event. Lunar is grateful, which has him asking Pitch if he can hug him. Pitch mumbles with reluctance, before dramatically agreeing. He opens his arms and says "FINE. BUT JUST THIS O-" He's stopped when he feels the gentleness of Lunar's hug. He hesitates before slowly wrapping his arms around him in return, the two sharing a private moment as Lunar thanks him. At the eclipse, he's subtly messing with Pitch's sleeve, a little nervous. He's happy to see that you and Saint are getting along, he knows that his brother was also nervous. Pitch ends up distracting him until the two start talking. Lunar admits that the eclipse is...less uncomfortable in the company of a friend

Carmine: He was the only other one to help Powder organize the event on the roof. He knows that Rus secretly admired space and overall planets, so he wanted things to be set up nicely. He kind of just watches during the eclipse until he intervenes with Razz and Powder. When he and Razz started arguing, he only knocked it off when Saint came on over. Begrudgingly, he and Razz sit aside and are snippy towards one another. He asks Razz if he's happy for Cash when he realizes I'm their silence that he's watching him. Razz asks defensively why, but Carmine decides to take the step and answer. "BECAUSE I KNOW THAT I AM HAPPY FOR MY BROTHER, AND THAT MUST MEAN THE SAME FOR YOU." .....Razz doesn't answer for a bit. However, the two seem to reach a quiet and temporary peace as the two finish their conversation about their brothers. At least it's something they can agree on.

Rus: He wanted to deny that he was excited about the eclipse, or at least refrain himself. After all, he doesn't want to look like a dork. When Stretch is so open about it though, Rus ends up getting excited as well. He was a bit more open to it before, but now he and Stretch are actively rambling about how cool it is. It took him and Stretch by surprise when they asked him what he thought and Cash accidentally sounded excited with his eyelight flickering to something akin to an orange tint. They catch him and they gang up on him, getting him to join as he tries to play it off and act cool. He has fun, and he even was able to ask you before you went to Saint if you're doing okay. He seems to be occupied though, and he notices you have a plan in mind when you gesture subtly to Saint

Razz: He found it to secretly be something he'd enjoy, but he originally acted like it was something he went to out of obligation. He started teasing Powder, ended up getting in an argument with Carmine involved, and then was threatened by Saint. He isn't having too much fun until everything actually goes out. His eyelights find Cash, and as he's called out for staring, it's only then that he and Carmine can sit in silence. He's more happy about Cash enjoying this, even if he thinks that the solar eclipse is so fascinating.

Cash: He can't admit that this is something he actually is super excited for. He can't do it, he will look like a dumbass! A soft one at that!!! He acted like he only went because everyone else was, but he planned to go even if everyone didn't. He got caught though, and he didn't intend for it. When this happened, he couldn't be left alone. Augh!! He saw that you noticed and got even more nervous, especially when he begged for you to save him from the other two. You teased him before feeding him to the wolves. How cruel you are!!! He even tried to slip away out of secret embarrassment, but Rus and Stretch won him over. .....He ended up geeking out with the other two

..................

You left the rooftop, your glasses in hand as you asked Vanilla for a spare before leaving. You didn't forget about him, even if he declined the other's offer to go. It took you a minute to find him, but he was in the backyard having a smoke. He either didn't see you or he did see you but didn't acknowledge you when you approached. "Dust?" You called, only knowing that he heard you when he tilted his head in your direction. You couldn't see his face properly, but you knew he was listening as he pulled his cigarette away from where his teeth would be. "I brought you some glasses for the solar eclipse. I didn't think you wanted to join because everyone was going to be up there, so I came down here!" You explained, handing him a pair as he took it from your hand. He observed it for a moment, before he tilted his head back up at you without a word. You hated how you couldn't tell what he was thinking, or at least how he felt when you couldn't see his expression. You felt your feet shifting against the dirt beneath you, slowly swaying your weight from one side to the other. He somehow ended up being the one to make you the most nervous, other than Saint. You took a step back, your eyes suddenly finding the area surrounding the two of you to be more interesting to look at. "Uhm, yeah! So...so I'm suspecting maybe I was wrong? I get it if.....get it if you don't want to see it, I just thought of you and didn't want you to feel....feel excluded." You repeated yourself as you stumbled over your words a few times, silently cursing yourself since you only did this when you were anxious. Fuck your stupid insecurities. You flinched suddenly when you felt smoke hit your face, your eyes widening a fraction as you were startled. He had leaned forward and now was only an inch away from your face, his phalanges hooking around his cigarette before he extinguished it against the stone statue beside the two of you. He still said nothing, but you figured as much that he was more attentive than before. You swallowed back a yelp, of course, you weren't some child. Up this close, you could see them. His eyelights, a soft purple and blue bleeding together with a dash of red. They were...pretty, at least when you didn't think about what each color meant. You could slightly see the outline of his teeth, and how they offered a smile that you weren't used to seeing as his eyelights caused a faint glow. "...Thank you. You really are an...angel." He muttered, his voice smooth and yet slightly raspy, like black charcoal mixed with honey. You couldn't help but feel your breath feel irregular as you involuntarily smiled, taking an extra step back as you straightened up. He tilted his head to the side, but did not say anything else. You heard the sincerity in his voice, that faint softness that he only seemed to have occasionally. You cleared your throat before speaking again. "Of course-! Hah...uhm, thanks. I'm- I'm going back inside now. I hope you enjoy the uh- eclipse!" You didn't even allow yourself to face the embarrassment of how your cheeks flushed against your will at his proximity or how his voice sounded so pleasant to the ears. You didn't see his response, or his smile as he thought to himself... Cute.

[eddsworldreform]

This, THIS is my favorite AU. Across ALL fandoms, it's so silly

I asked the creator for heights and permission so yay! (This is how I imagine they would interact, sorry if it's not accurate)

The Edd, Matt, Tom and Tord with my version of them belong to: @alienroommate-au/@yyunko

(I was gonna draw My Tom yoinking Alien Tom's beanie but forgot about it till now :(((()

Also context for the "they're also an alien" in the Tom one, it's cuz my crew don't live on Earth they live on a planet called Rose in a neighboring solar system :3

[someobscurereference]

Who would haunt a house and who would make the house become haunted in your opinion? (Any characters/fandom/you may include yourself)

You said any fandom, so I'll go through some fandoms for fun :)

FE Awakening:

@kimium and I have an ongoing gag that Severa, Inigo, and Owain as modern au mid-20 somethings rent a haunted apartment together BUT Owain never sees anything weird because (a) he's oblivious and (b) Libra, Naga, his parents, etc. have got him dosed up to the gills with anti-supernatural blessing protection because he seems like the kind of guy who would get into supernatural trouble if given the slightest chance, Severa refuses to thinks ghosts are real and so always finds the logical explanation, and Inigo with Henry as his dad has a haunted aura that repels other ghosts (even though he is scared desperately of them). So they don't notice that they're haunted at all. They think the weird red fluid dripping from the ceiling is a pipe. It sucks to have a bad credit score.

Chrom would move have Robin move in with him and eventually think the house is haunted but it's really Robin. Robin knows its them who is haunted and is embarrassed.

FE 3H:

Ferdinand would move into a haunted house because he thinks its history is very romantic and then not realize it's really haunted. It is perhaps haunted with the ghost of forgotten nobles who died in what he considers to be a very romantic fashion (but was probably not the truth.) (Twist: It's not haunted at all and he has a rat problem + someone has been breaking in)

Octopath 2:

Temenos would move into a haunted house on purpose because he thinks it holds the key to where his brother went.

FFXV:

Prompto moves into a haunted house because it's cheap and he's living on his own for the first time. Demons haunt it and every night is like Fatal Frame for him and his camera. (Fun fact: I almost wrote a fic like this once.)

[thefuzzzz]

Klance Wip Bingo #1 and #2

Summary:

Word count: 4,825

Chapters: 3/3

Description:

Finally, the perpetrator turned around and looked at Lance softly before whispering, "Can I borrow a pen? Mine ran out of ink."

Lance was taken aback for a second. Not only did this guy not realize he'd created a huge mess for Lance to clean up, but he was also downright gorgeous.

Lance stuttered over his words before providing a clear no. He did have a spare pen, but he would much rather inconvenience this guy the way he inconvenienced him. Even if he did have a beautiful face, Lance was hellbent on his revenge.

He nodded understandingly before tapping the shoulder of the person in front of him, and a few moments later being handed a simple black pen.

Damn, plot for revenge is foiled.

__________________________

College was a weird place, especially for two roommates who are simultaneously in love and despite each other. After a hate-inducing run-in with Keith, Lance cant believe he has to share a dorm with this asshole for a whole year. Only after seeing Keith at his most vulreble, Lance starts to see the aloof folds of his roommate unravel.

My Bingo Card:

This fic is my first and second box for the Klance Bingo Challenge by @klanceintergalactichub!! I love their community and can’t wait to do yet another bingo!

[z0mbieb0ys-recs]

tangled in webs

by: tintedsuns

Words: 3,951

Ship: Regulus Black/James Potter

Rating: Explicit

Summary:

“I have a secret.” James admits.

Regulus blinks. “Latex kink?”

“What?” James asks, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “Latex— what?”

“No? Right, sorry.” Regulus presses his lips together. A latex kink likely couldn’t explain the gash on his arm.

“I’m spider-man,” James says quietly. Regulus blinks again. Maybe he heard that wrongly.

[theprofessionalpromptmaker]

Person A is a tragically bad cook and recently gained a chef roommate, Person B, who walks in on Person A filming their cooking experiments since, while nothing good comes from their cooking, videos of them making it and trying it and being repulsed is something a surprising amount of people enjoy watching. Person B, unaware Person A is filming, intervenes and manages to save the dish Person A was attempting to make by altering it in a way to make it not only edible but actually delicious, while also reacting with genuine horror and repulsion to Person A’s attempt. Person A decides to post it just to show their fans the funny experience and reactions, but when the video garners far more attention, Person A brings up the idea with Person B of making a series where Person A attempts to cook something and then the second half is Person B challenging themself to salvage the disaster. Person B agrees, and grow a surprisingly decent fanbase - who immediately begin shipping them.

[bingqiu-fanfics]

Word Count: 26,465 Summary: After pushing Luo Binghe into the Endless Abyss, Shen Qingqiu travels for almost three years straight, picking up quest after quest to distract himself until his disciples' fated return. Only, he suffers a Qi Deviation far away from home—losing all memories of his life as Shen Qingqiu in the process. Not remembering his sect, responsibilities, the world of PIDW, or even Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan assumes he must have died and transmigrated upon waking; But into what story—and who? With no idea of his role, he decides to plant roots in the middle-of-nowhere village he woke up in. Luo Binghe isn’t about to let him disappear from cultivation society on his own, though.

Luo Binghe finds an amnesiac Shen Yuan in a nowhere village and they live together as homoerotic roommates. Shen Yuan is painfully oblivious, Luo Binghe's male hysterics are acting up, its absolutely perfect lol I love this fic so much. It's still a WIP as of right now but it doesn't end on a cliff hanger and its definitely worth a read if you're in the mood for some light hearted fluff

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

hermann gottlieb: on lunar exploration & lying to lab partners

Newton still has... moments. Fortunately, Hermann has become something of an expert.

Drafted this at work yesterday while my students did some freewriting. Five word prompt, and this AU came to life almost instantly. 1.539 words.

"I think I hate this."

 "I know this is asking for the impossible, but could you please shut up?"

 "No; I definitely hate this," Newt decided, plowing ahead as if completely unaware of Hermann speaking. The latter silently seethed, once more damning Fate and his father and every other confounded thing that had led to him being stuck here with this... menace.

 Hermann turned from the observation screen with a scathing remark at the ready, but felt it deteriorate immediately upon seeing the distressing state of his partner.

 Newton had situated himself on the floor, picking listlessly at some loose grout along the baseboard. Hermann frowned at the motion- the grout in question had developed a disturbingly bright, violet patina; as their lab and quarters were from the original base, it was likely a few decades old already.

 And Newton, their alleged “expert” on microbes and fungi, was poking his bare fingers into it.

 Wonderful.

 The irritation was easily dismissed however, replaced by a flicker of concern as Hermann observed the repetitive action, realizing that this wasn't Newton's usual restlessness. 

 The pattern was too familiar after spending so long working next to the man- the way Newton had pulled his lower lip between his teeth, the subtle way he had shoved his entire body into as small a position as possible, right arm curved protectively around the folded legs, chin was only millimeters away from resting on his knees.

 Stars help him, but he had seen this far too many times before.

 "Newton, have you taken-"

 "I mean, I know we're not in that much danger out here, I know that, but every time someone goes out there I get so caught up worrying about what might happen to them or what might come back with them or- It's- It's stupid; I’m being stupid, but it's like I can't stop and-"

 His leg would give him hell for this later, but at the moment, he couldn't care less. Hermann carefully took a seat on Newton's right, before promptly wrapping his left arm about the younger's shoulders and hauling him into something resembling an embrace.

 Newton stuttered out the beginnings a protest, but it fell away just as quickly, and he relaxed slightly. With a mild sense of victory, Hermann allowed himself a small smile, thumb tracing light fractals onto Newton's upper arm, the ridges in his skin snagging slightly on the Mylar of Newton's uniform.

 "I must look pretty bad right now, huh." It was an only observation, a passing rhetorical, but Hermann couldn't help but hum an assent anyway, Newton letting out a small sound of frustration.

 "I should be better than this by now. Hell I- I'm on the actual Moon! How is my anxiety still this bad?"

 Hermann took a moment to consider how he should answer- _if _he should answer. But at Newton's subtle behest… Well, something was expected.

 He was humbled- Newton trusting that Hermann could offer him a solution, that he could read the man better than Newton himself and offer some quantifiable, justifiable conclusion which could finally set his mind at ease.

 But the human mind wasn't so simple as that; he knew firsthand how damnably un-simple it was.

 Before one could even be considered for being stationed at Lunar Outpost GQ-654, they were required to take part in strenuous mental and physical examinations (with some notable exemptions), and well-

 While he, in his own humble opinion, did an admirable job of concealing it, Hermann's mind was also filled with- as Newton had once phrased so eloquently- a “big ol' bag of cats.”

 Another smile, this one unbidden, as he recalled that evening, watching Newton fly about the lab in his excitement, rambling (only partly-coherent) about the new water samples collected by Commander Mori's team on their latest mission. Captain Beckett had been visiting and surveying with fond amusement as Newton carried on, his tirade having shifted to something minutely conversational, dragging Raleigh into a debate about- A children’s game?

 Oh, it was an age ago. Hermann couldn't recall every detail, but the core sensations of the memory remained: warmth, affection, familiarity.

 And familiarity- perhaps acknowledgement?- was what Newton needed most.

 "I don't much care for the dark side, myself."

 He felt Newton stiffen slightly; had it been too long since he'd spoken last?

 No... No. the coordinates for Mako's team showed that it had only been a few moments, barely any time having passed at all since he had taken a seat on the floor.

 Newton was quiet, frame still coiled with tension that was edging towards contagious, Hermann's own fears starting to-

 "Somehow I always seem to forget you're just as much a mess as I am."

 Hermann couldn't repress a sardonic huff of laughter at that, letting his head fall back to rest against the cold wall, eyes fluttering shut as he sang softly. "'Misery... Misery loves company.'" He paused, resumed in his normal tone, almost conversationally. "Or so they say."

 Newton shifted, relaxing and stretching out his left leg, letting out a pained noise as his knee cracked. Hermann winced in sympathy; their pending approach towards middle age was agreeing with neither of them. 

 After a few short breaths, he could hear a tease in Newton's voice. "Never woulda pegged you for an Anthrax fan."

 "I'm not," Hermann lied easily. "But when you insist on playing that incessant caterwauling at all hours-"

 "Hey-"

 "-is it so hard to believe I would find at least one or two things that are somewhat tolerable?"

 Newton's stunned silence- no matter how brief it would likely be- was a proverbial point to Hermann. He felt his smile grow, and could practically envision the consternation eclipsing the other's face.

 "Herms..."

 Oh. Oh dear, no. That wasn't the correct tone.

 Alarmed, Hermann straightened, eyes wide as he tried to assess the condition of his crewmate. "Newton?"

 Bright, hazel eyes were angled upwards to meet his own, and there was-

 Oh, bugger him to hell.

 -that damned smirk.

 "You just admitted you like my music."

 "I admitted to no such thing. I simply suggested-"

 "Lie all you want, dude. I know now," Newton elongated and deepened his words, a practiced attempt at mimicking a villain from some cheesy B-rated sci-fi film. Hermann was surprised that Newton didn't punctuate his words with a-

 "Mu-wha-ha-ha-ha."

 -There it was.

 "You're a bloody juvenile."

 "Shut up; you love it," Newton chirped, voice finally peeling in its normal register. A little humiliation on his own end perhaps, but it was worth it to see Newton bouncing- quite literally- back on his feet, bright smile in place, holding out a hand to help Hermann stand.

 "In small increments, Newton. Small increments," Hermann found himself acquiescing as he took the proffered hand, wincing as he avoided placing too much weight on his right leg.

 He hoped Newton hadn't-

 "You good?"

 -Oh of course he had noticed.

 Hermann waved off Newton's concern, awkwardly ambling back towards his work station. The screen shifted to follow him, intuitively adjusting for the most convenient angle of its intended viewers. "I'll drop by Medical for more painkillers after J43-G3R is back in the docking bay."

 As much as it ached, Hermann was still in charge of monitoring his Robotics' programming whenever one of the teams was out. If there were any faults or coding errors, then he needed to-

 "I'll get 'em for you, dude."

 Newton's voice cut off his train of thought, eyes dragging away from the observation screen. "Pardon?"

 The other man offered a small shrug. "You asked me earlier about my meds, and I really did forget this morning. Figured I'll save you the wait and grab yours while I'm there."

 Fondness settled like a small weight in his chest, and he internally sighed in relief. "Thank you, Newton. I would be most grateful."

 Newton offered him double finger-guns as he shuffled backwards out the door. "Anytime, my guy."

 Hermann started to turn back to his computer, the long lists of data that he would be sorting through come tomorrow, before he heard familiar footsteps once again.

 "Hey Herms?"

 Hermann didn't look away from his screen, only slightly tilting his head in Newton's direction. "Mm?"

 "Thanks for earlier. I don't say it a lot, but I don't know how I'd get by without ya."

 Hermann felt his entire body stutter at the spontaneous introduction of sentimentality; it was one thing to offer a loved one a physical gesture of comfort, but words-

 Newton was watching him with that fond, foolish look he knew well now. Oh, it had dimmed for a time, somewhere between their first attempt at friendship and becoming begrudging research partners, but it had long since become so synonymous with all things Hermann now considered _Newton _that he couldn't help but offer a reflexive smile back.

 "Get out of here, you blasted menace," he ordered, words still holding a tad too much fondness.

 With a backwards shuffle and a mocking salute, Newton's expression shifted into a mischievous grin, the man almost side-swiping the doorway as he finally departed.

 Hermann rolled his eyes before turning back to his work, lightly humming along to a song he most definitely wasn't a fan of. 

[england-would-fall]

Hello friends! This is my first WIP Wednesday, no fault owing to the amazing people who have tagged me in the past. Look at my banner!!! @luainthewild, your styling is impeccable darling.

Shall we do a FirstPrince snippet? Short uni roommates au crack!fic being posted this Friday for a mini gift exchange, because life is serious and I am not.

Henry Fox did not share beds. Not because he was a misanthrope (he wasn’t) or a blanket-hoarding sleep gremlin (he was). Not because he hadn’t had the opportunity or the invitation (he most definitely had). It wasn’t even because he had a rather embarrassing amount of money that precluded him from the need to share sleeping quarters. He did, and it did; it just wasn’t the reason. Henry Fox did not share beds for a reason far more extreme and horrible than any of that. Henry Fox did not share beds because, against the advice of his grandmother and every agony aunt in the British Isles, he became hopelessly, miserably, irrevocably infatuated with any pretty boy who batted his eyelashes in his general direction. Sharing a bed would inevitably lead to trouble, and he could whip up quite enough of that on his own, what with being the quick-tongued homosexual British Literature degree-holding son of an actor. He really and truly did not need one more single ounce of difficulty with his family or strata of society or any of that shit. And that would be fine. Absolutely fine. Wonderful, manageable, definitely doable in every possible circumstance imaginable…except this one.

Let's see who we can wrangle some WIP Wednesday posts out of! @luainthewild @couldvebeenus @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion @wordsofhoneydew @lyricoloratura anyone wanna share with the class? anyone not tagged who wants to join, please do -- and if you want to be tagged next time, let me know!

[rosealiceroyal]

She looks at him in the way only June can. She's the only one he'll allow it from without a fight. "I don't know if you're ready to have this conversation or not."

His fork clatters to the plate in front of him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

June sighs a sigh of long-suffering and pinches the bridge of her nose, before she looks him dead in the eye and sets his world upside down. "You know you and Henry are dating, right?"

Alex gapes at her. Mouth hung open, eyes blown wide. "W-what?"

"I say this with all the love in the world," she says. "But sometimes, I swear, you are the most oblivious idiot on the face of the planet."

Language: English Words: 9,355 Chapters: 1/1 Comments: 67 Kudos: 1,276 Bookmarks: 270 Hits: 10,898