#dumb ass mind giving me dumb creative au’s >:(

[feelings-flooding-away]

I’m trying to merge my obsessions but it’s halo and tf2 so now scout is canonically the rookie from halo odst because merasmus is angry wizard idk and after odst he goes to infinite (now a spartan) and is found in the tower n then he fights alongside chief but at the end of the infinite he confesses that he doesn’t belong in this timeline and boom he gets sent back to tf2 time line bc the mercs teamed up and beat the shit outa merasmus and forced him to bring scout back

[fics-lovebot]

satoru gojo fic rec

main masterlist

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

i´ll be constantly updating this list so make sure to check it out often for new recs ;)))

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

disclaimer: if you came back looking for that one fire fic and you can´t find it, it´s bc it doesn't exist anymore :( so i deleted it

LAST UPDATED: 08/08/2024

gojo

gojo eating you out - ( @happybird16 )

gojo x dacryphilia - ( @happybird16 )

gojo loves fat pussy - ( @tohokuu )

sending gojo an accidental nude so he sends you a whole video - ( @satoruhour )

gojo tried to give himself a haircut and now wants to go bald - ( @enkvyu ) this is fuNNY ksksks, I love the banter

trying to break up with yandere!gojo - ( @peachsayshi ) yep, we´re talkin about lovesick toxic obsessed type of gojo, break up????? you know better than to tell him that sooo since you´re acting dUMB he has to fucc so sense into you bc, clearly, you forgot who tf ur talking to - LDKJSDFJDJFHLSHFLSHDF but he´s not rough bc he luvss you a lot

insecure bully!gojo - ( @saetoru ) angst, lil fluff, he´s a bully and he´s in love, but its not enough. part 2

the horniest - ( @arminsumi ) smut, ITS SO GOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDD, he´s horny af, pussy drunk, obsessed, borderline crazy for that wap

phone calls - ( @kingkonoha ) slice of life, hubby!gojo, dilf!gojo, his wife and his daughter are his only priority, this is so sdkfjskdjfh :´( i love it

best of the best - ( @saetoru ) smut, fwb! satoru, big sHIT talker omg, he lit asks you to be his gf wHILE he´s making you cum,,,,,best bf ever tho

love struck - ( @xxsabitoxx ) fluffy, ex-fuckboy!satoru, he´s experiencing love for the first time :((((( IT´S SO CUTEEEEEEEEEE

love dumb - ( @arminsumi ) fluff, blurb, you make him lose his composure, can´t even focus bc you´re over there existing, someone should make a longer version of this! so good

too much - ( @risuola ) ANGSTTTYYYY, fluff too, reader and gojo are in a situationship kinda thing where they live together and love each other but nothing has been said yet, they get into an argument bc gojo has a big mouth and says a lot of hurtful things, they´re both just so exhausted

i know you still think about the times we had - ( @saetoru ) angst, fluff, rich bf!gojo, his father makes you break up with him, it´s so angsty omg, they get into this HUGE argument bc gojo´s dad is a controlling mf

sanctuary - ( @arminsumi ) fluff, lowkey angst, weak!reader, bully!gojo, nah he´s just in love but doesn´t know how to say it

the road to falling in love - ( @itadorey ) fluff, strangers to lovers, it´s a collection o moments where keeps falling harder for you, I LOVE ITTTTT, sdkfjhskdjf it´s kinda slow burn but not boring at all

yuji finds out gojo has a family - ( @kingkonoha ) fluff, lowkey angst, hubby!gojo, dad!gojo, so,,, this made me cry, i love yuji sm he deserves the world :( this is part two and it also made me crY MY MF EYES OUT :))))))))

i´ll meet you forever in this memory - ( @gorejo ) fluff, college au, married life au, it´s so good, he lit has this big ass plan to make you fall for him, and i mean big, like planned way ahead lmao, 10 years later he´s still asking you to go out with him,,,,even if you´re already married sdlfkjkdfhlsdjh so so cute

can´t stop drinking - ( @kingkonoha ) ANGST, death, blood, dad!gojo, husband!gojo, mentions of wanting to die, a curse kills you and your son allegedly but in reality the elders had lied to him all these years, part 2 made me fucking cry, PLEASEEE I NEED PART 3

hype man - ( @satoruoo ) crack, fluff, supportive bf!gojo, he´s such an amazing bf :( “damn, my girl ran you over with a bus, reversed, then got out and shot you twice in the foot? what did you do?? sounds like a you issue.” LMAOOOOO this is so cute and funny at the same time, i love it, such a gojo thing to say

flicker of flame - ( @tteokdoroki ) fluff, nervous soon to be dad!gojo, pregnant!reader, he´s going to be the best dad ever

mirror´s pov - ( @teddybeartoji ) smut, "satoru likes jerking off in front of a mirror" YUP, a whole POV of him beating his meat to the thought of you BEAUTIFULLY written, very detailed

missionary - ( @babiexiao ) smut, fluff, THIS IS SO :(((( so beautiful

[creepylittlelady]

My opinion on Slenderman (INCREDIBLY OPINIONATED POST)

(If you guys are curious about my take on him, check out my post on Slenderman headcanons!)

Alright, I like to call myself a neutral person when it comes to stuff like this but GOD DAMN WILL I DIE ON THIS HILL. Slenderman is one of my favourite characters (Zalgo my love I love you so much), and one of the reasons why I like him is that there is genuinely speaking, NOTHING CANON ABOUT HIM.

It kinda confuses me about how black and white his characterisation tends to be. It's either he's your Dad who is currently yelling at Jeff for getting blood on the couch again, or he's the Heartless Narcisisstic Evil Monster who loves NOBODY and cares for NOBODY. I can deeply appreciate both sides, but claiming one over the other absolutely is kinda dumb.

In fact, trying to claim anything concrete about his character is a losing battle. There's nothing canon you can say about him; he has no backstory, he has no motivations for anything he did, he has no personality, he doesn't even really have a canon relationship with any of the Creepypastas. Sure, you can claim that what he did in Marble Hornets is a sign that he's evil and manipulative; but couldn't you say the same thing for, let's say Kyubey from Madoka Magica?

I don't know if he (Kyubey identifies as a male apparently) is a good example, but the point of Madoka Magica is that at the end of the day you can't call him evil. He's a completely different species with a different set of morals and therefore you can't just slap a 'PURE EVIL' label on him and walk on your merry way.

That's exactly how I feel about Slenderman. You can't call him evil and just walk away; there's so much more to him then that. You can say the same thing about Lord Zalgo, it's just so boring and typical to label them as 'Good' or 'Bad' and then just never try to write them in any nuanced way.

He has no backstory, there's no canonical reason for why he's doing any of this. Is he even aware of what's happening? Is he aware that what he's doing is bad? Is he just a nonhuman who is apathetic to the idea of human emotions? Does he have a good reason for doing all of this, at least, good in his mind?

I get so pissed whenever I hear the 'Slenderman is canonically evil' bs sometimes. Yes yes I get it he's not this wholesome father figure who'll provide for your every need like your own parents never did, but is that REALLY the only other option when it comes to how to portray him? Come on guys lets get creative! My own idea isn't all that creative; it's just a mixture of both versions tied into one, but I seriously wanna see some headcanons of him that aren't either:

Version A:

-Slenderman is cartoonishly bad at being a father figure, or he's just the background character. Some real 'JACK ARE YOU EATING ON THE COUCH AGAIN?!' Shenanigans.

Version B:

-Slenderman hates you. Slenderman will use his evil little powers to manipulate you into like idk being his slave or some shit and you should hate him because that's who he is. HE WILL BEAT YOUR ASS SO HARD THAT YOU WILL BLEED. HE HATES EVERYONE. EVERYONE HATES HIM. COLLECT HIS PAGES NOW.

Yes, he has done shit, but do you know why he did the shit? Do you know this dude personally? Has he literally come up to you and said 'Ahh yes I love abusing mortals it gives me so much karmic joy'. Deadass did Masky tell you that he beats his ass himself? The only thing he wants you to do is collect his pages.

Also don't misinterpret this post because I fucking LOVE AUs that make him into a villain but like in a good way that I absolutely adore. But why slander him for a version of him that doesn't exist? How on Earth do you a slander a character that has no personality? That's personally why Vocaloid Slander is weird as well; because these guys have got no canon personality.

Slenderdad does not exist. Slenderman the evil eldritch does not exist.

Slenderman does not exist.

That's why he's cool. Because he's basically the blankest of all blank slates, write him as whatever you want but don't claim that it's canon or 'realistic' or anything like that. I guess I can kind of see why you could say that evil Slenderman is realistic, but technically that's ALSO a headcanon. I don't believe his actual creator wrote him a personality beyond the fact that he kills people, and thats it.

Have fun with the guy, because he, alongside Zalgo, are characters where you can genuinely say anything about them and nobody can say you're wrong.

Anyways that's my rant post of the evening hope you guys enjoyed, make sure to smash that like and subscribe button >:3

Also feel free to debate with me in any way shape or form, this might be a terrible take and I'm open to changing my mind at any time in the future. This is just my current take on things.

[sevencolorsatlast]

Sagau ask meme. ⭐ 🌌

SAGAU Ask Meme

🌌 How did you get introduced to the AU? (Through fanfiction? Blogs? Fanart? Playlists?)

I'm trying hard to think how and when I was introduced to this AU. I think it was a post about the Genshin characters becoming self-aware and jamming to the music. It was a fun concept because I'm doing this myself where I turn down the music volume in the game and kicking ass while playing my rage playlist. I wonder what would they think of that lol

⭐️ What aspects do you like and dislike about it?

Likes:

Everyone is freakin' creative and have their own takes with their own SAGAU.

Delicious angst, they can be hard to find but it's there when you hit a jackpot.

Any character protective of the Creator is the shit, whether it is platonic or romantic. And otherwise, too.

Dislikes:

The characters being dumb for no reason. Most, if not all, characters would worship the Creator but it doesn't mean they would throw their braincells out of the window.

The harem thing going on with the Creator. I am not against this in anyway but it gets annoying after I see it for a while. I am a 'x reader' writer for quiet some time but harem is too much for me, man.

Most versions of the Creator are either straight up Yandere/God of Destruction or helpless in certain cases as if they aren't powerful. Give me an overly emotional Creator who still wreck ass or just straight up jumps in front of their vessel to protect them because of how much they love their blorbo and smiling at them despite bleeding. Or the Creator plays the role of a trickster and play mind games with the dumbass Imposter.

[ehnrat]

ALRIT CAMPER IT'S UR TURN. TELL ME WHY U NAMED UR CHARACTERS THE WAY U DID U STUPUD BITCH.

NOT MY OWN HUBRIS COMING BACK AGAINST ME YOU DUMB BITCH, BRO I DON'T EVEN HAVE OCS😦

[kills u] so— some of them did not have much thought behind them other than being regular names or they just sounded like it would fit, but I will include the ones that do

Raine/Bunie/Beau: Bunie came first and he was a dream oc who was a slasher that wore a rabbit mascot head and I'm so creative so instead of Bunny, it's Bunie and I ran with it. I feel like my process for Raine was that I liked that name and thought it was androgynous/fluid for a neutral name. Beau came last because I wanted another 'B' name for Bunie when they name themselves and I always thought the name Beau was cool and my fav animal crossing character is named Beau. Later I realized how Raine and Beau connected and I lost my mind even more. Fun Fact, Bunie was almost gonna be named Wolper

Adori Phoebus: No thought behind this besides "hrm this rolls off the tongue nice". Phoebus was because I wanted a Greek surname.

Mika Enzoi: I thought that name Mika was cute and chipper sounding and Mika is a cute and chipper guy !! It made me happy to call him that.

Loki (Locurious): A mischievous catboy need I say more >:3c Locurious is his old name that he ditched when he left the circus and I think it was a play on "curious" (his overall nature on 'teehee what if i did this') and "mercurius" (the god Mercury and being quick, nimble, and a bit of a trickster which Loki tends to be with his cat reflexes, abilities to float a lil, and his self given title of "Trickster Villain for Fun")

Julian Malachi-Florence Nightingale the Third: Would you believe me if I said this was impromptu when I was thinking of making a fancy-like long ass name for a fancy mage idea ? Julian was created to be Omir’s bane and I’m like “what’s an obnoxiously long name I can give to this person…?”

Omir Lyrria: I already had a fondness of the name Omir and Lyrria is a play on the word “lyric” since Omir was musically characterized when I created his design

Dolión: So he was created as the mortal husk of my oc Dendé for this Kingdom Au me and my friend were indulging in, and after a lot of rotting, the husk seemed like his own person far removed from Dendé and so I was like “he would definitely call himself a different name to further removing himself from Dendé that he hates so much.” At first I was playing around with like reversing the name Dendé but I felt like the husk also fitted a D name, so I went searching and came across Dolión and it looked really nice. THEN I looked into the name some more and found out it was GREEK and meant something along the lines of being deceitful and I’m looking at my friend like “DENDÉ IS LITERALLY GREEK AND THE MEANING FITS THEM BOTH PERFECTLY.”

Clam Mari: He is a merperson and this though the name is similar to the play on words ‘calamari’, the initial thought process was like “Imma name them Clam. Oh, I should give them a last name too. Clams are like marine creatures, let’s go with Mari.” (I felt like Marine would be too on the nose so I shortened it). I didn’t notice until after someone pointed it out when I showed it to them that it was like calamari.

YoYo / Nayu: They, like a lot of characters I have around, are actually a play on words of my own name. My name is not common and never see it, and there was a point in time I had to play a game as a child where we had to say something positive about ourselves or something using the first letter or our names and my tiny ass could NOT think of anything other than nice or something negative. I also then realized I didn’t hear many names like mine with the letter N so I always tried to create names with the letter N or similarly like with the letter O too, or whatever sounded nice and uncommon. Some others with the similar naming convention include Nikk, Remi, Mo, Kinn, Naiya, Nalia, and Necea (maybe more but these are what I can think of atm)

Zavannah “Zavi” Ohm: It started out with Zavi because I like how the ‘Z’ felt to say. Zavannah came after because I thought Zavi could be like a nickname she goes by, it’s also a play on the name ‘Savannah’ which I took a liking to bc of a Hamtaro amv I saw on a hamtaro fansite. Originally, she never had electric powers, she was just a kickboxer/Sikaran fighter, but then I gave her electric abilities and gave her the last name Ohm.

Lambertghini “Lambert”: He’s a goat….. Lamb…… Lambert….. “hey I’m here in my garaaaaaaage just bought this uh new Lamborghini here.mwv”…….. Lambertghini..

BONUS

Toddmaus “Todd”: Todd sounds like a cute name for a lil mouse ! Todd was already taken in the game so I’ll add ‘maus’ at the end (I was studying German at the time) ! Toddmaus ! Your best friend, Todd !!!!!!!! 🫵

[sundaysundaes]

Make a Wish

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | College AU

Summary: It’s your birthday today and instead of giving you a box of gift, your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, decides to grant five of your wishes. You can’t help but feel a smirk creeping up your face. It’s time to get a little… creative.

This can be read as a stand alone but if you want to read it in order, you can start with Before Our Story Began and Jealousy. 

You were having a dream. A really nice dream about your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, where for once in his twenty-years of living, he promised himself not to whine about anything ever again for the rest of his life. He was situated in difficult positions—got an F for the papers that he’d worked on for days, overcooked his eggs until they tasted like a pile of ashes in his mouth during breakfast, or lost a battle because Jaemin was too distracted with Jeno’s dick rubbing against his ass during the game. And even then, he did not form any complaint or whine with his head thrown back like how he usually would’ve done. It was a pleasant dream, seeing him all mature like that.

But then you woke up to the sound of that boyfriend of yours, screaming—literally screaming—directly to your ear, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY GIRL,” as if it wasn’t the middle of the night where he could wake up the whole dorm.

So now, you’re glowering at him with bleary eyes, wiping your drool away with the back of your hand. Haechan shows his phone screen, grinning when he sees you noticing with squinted eyes that it’s 00.00 am and the date written underneath it is your birthday.

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter, sinking your face back into the pillow and pulling the blanket over your head. “I’ll see you in the morning. Night, Haechannie.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Your boyfriend is loud, too loud. You understand that Jaemin is having a sleepover at Jeno’s place so Haechan has the entire room for himself but that does not give him the right to scream right next to your ear like this. Especially when you’re this sleepy with nothing but exhaustion pumping through your veins.

“Noona~” He shakes you by the shoulder, peeling the blanket off your body and succeeding, even when you’ve tried your best to keep it tangled around you. “Come on, it’s your birthday. We have to celebrate!”

“We’ll celebrate when the sun is out. Like normal people.”

“No way, come on! You can sleep some other time!”

“You can be annoying some other time.”

He huffs loudly, puffing out his cheeks. “If you don’t get up, I’ll do things to you.”

You sigh. You know what kind of things he’s referring to and as much as you love it, you’re really drained from the part-time job you did earlier today. It’s true that you haven’t had sex with him for more than a week or so and you kind of miss doing those sort of things with him but you’re just so tired that you ended up crashing face-first on his bed earlier this evening the second you arrived in his room. You hadn’t even kissed him properly yet.

“Okay, fine.” You sit up on his bed with your shirt—or rather, his shirt—all wrinkled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “What do you want us to do? If it’s sex, you have to wait because I’m dead tired right now.”

“I wanted to give you your present, actually.” But the way he juts out his bottom lip seems like sex was exactly what he had in mind.

“Okay, so where is it?” You ask, considering you don’t really see him carrying a box of gift with a red bow wrapped around it.

“Well, it’s kinda predictable for me to be giving you like an actual present, so I thought hey, maybe I can grant you a wish. Any kind of wish,” he emphasizes, raising that eyebrow of his in the way he knows you like it. “If you know what I mean.”

You ignore him completely, though the sight of his sexy smirk still leaves you unfocused for a good few seconds. “Only one? On my birthday? Do you even want to do this or are you just making an excuse for not buying me a present?”

“Yah!” He scrunches his nose, playfully jabbing a finger to your stomach. “I don’t see you granting me any wishes on my birthday!”

“You wanted to come inside me and I allowed you to do just that. Twice. Stop being so ungrateful.”

That wipes the playful angry look off his face almost instantly. “You’re right, fine,” he concedes, looking at you with a disinterested look in his eyes. “How many wishes do you want then?”

“I don’t know, like, fifty?”

“The hell? Do I look like Santa to you?”

“If you keep eating those samgyeopsal past midnight, your belly will.”

“Stop body-shaming me, you little—“ He suddenly leaps over, attacking you with tickles to the sides of your stomach until you fall back to the bed with his bare chest hovering over your body. You retaliate by moving your legs around, trying to kick him away but failing every time. You can barely hold back your laughter. He only stops when your face grows scarlet and your chest heaving up and down, slightly out of breath. “I’ll give you three wishes,” he offers, a bit breathless as well. “Only because you look so irresistible right now with those lips of yours.”

“Make it ten, then.” You play with his necklace, twisting it around your finger. Your other hand draws a line on his golden skin, starting from the column of his neck down to his chest. “And I’ll be even more irresistible.”

“Hmm, tempting.” His lips slowly breaking into a sultry smile. “But no. I’ll give you three and that’s final.”

“If you give me five,” you say, hooking a finger around his silver necklace this time so you can bring his face down to yours and whisper in his ear, “I’ll let you cum in my mouth later today.”

His entire face beams up almost like a kid on his first school trip. “You get yourself a deal, sister!”

You smile, caressing his cheek softly with your fingers. His gaze softens, leaning against your touch like how a kitten would. “Well then, here’s my first wish,” you speak softly as if you’re telling a secret. Your lips are just a few inches away from his, and he licks his lower lip in anticipation. “No doing sexual activities whatsoever with me on my birthday.”

That sensual, excited look he has on his face earlier? Gone, being immediately replaced by sheer horror. “What?!” He shrieks when his realization sinks in. “BUT YOU SAID YOU’D LET ME CUM IN YOUR MOUTH LATER TODAY!”

You grin at him, almost cackling out loud. “It’s not fun being on the other side of a prank, is it now, Haechannie?”

“You’re so—” But even the infamous Lee Haechan can be at loss for words. “Not even a kiss?”

“Not even a hug,” you clarify, pushing his body away with both hands so he ends up sitting on his heels, only in his boxer. “I’ll allow you to hold my hands but that’s it.”

“But why?” The way he whines the word ‘why’, loud and long, is just so him. “Hugging is like a totally normal thing to do! People hug all the time! Even kids do! It doesn’t have to be sexual.”

“It becomes sexual when you keep popping out a boner during one.”

“Screw you.”

“Not today, Haechannie. Not today.”

***

Haechan, no matter how bratty he can act from time-to-time, does keep his promise intact. He hasn’t touched you for like eight hours by now, even when you were taking a shower inside his room and ‘accidentally’ leaving the bathroom door open. You heard him groan, “Seriously? You’re doing this to me now? You’re torturing me, Nooonaaaaa~” once during your shower, but he didn’t act on his desire. You’re actually quite surprised. You know just how much this is driving him crazy.

“Let’s get some breakfast,” you say, already looking all dolled up in the red dress he once bought for you. You know how much he likes it, know how much his eyes ogle your body from top-to-toe, staring at the way the fabric hugs your body perfectly, emphasizing your every curve.

He glares at you menacingly. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what?” You play dumb, though you're sure your grin betrays you. “Come on, I’m starving. I’ll let you hold my hand as we walk, just make sure don't get a hard-on in the meantime.”

“Have I told you I hate you today?”

“And I love you too, Haechannie.”

The cafe near the dormitory you usually visit to get your daily intake of calories is closed for the day. “Why are they closed?” You ask, adjoining your eyebrows together in confusion.

“Maybe the old man has diarrhea or something.” He shrugs, hands buried deep inside the pocket of his black ripped jeans. The way they tightly hug his legs, combined with those holes, is becoming very distracting for you. “I sure as hell, hope so.”

“Will you let it go already? It was an honest mistake.”

“How on earth is putting wasabi in my cream soup an honest mistake? He totally did that on purpose!”

“Yeah, well, knowing how you just straight-up told him he looked like a walrus, I’m not even surprised he spiked your soup.”

“Now that’s an honest mistake, in which I tried to be honest but came out as a mistake.”

“You didn’t have to tell him he looked like a walrus, though.”

“But he did!” He groaned, stomping his feet on the ground. “He totally did! Look me in the eyes and tell me he didn’t look like a walrus, come on, I dare you.”

You roll your eyes. He’s always one for the dramatic. “Should we go somewhere else? How hungry are you right now?”

“For your love?” He smirked, sending you a flirty wink. “Starving.”

You make an exaggerated gesture of you vomiting your insides. “If you’re not that hungry, wanna just go grab some crepes and take a walk in the park?”

��Sure, why not.” His shoulders are relaxed as he yawns unattractively, though it still counts as adorable in your book. “Let’s drop by to that bakery you told me before on the way home. I’m gonna buy you a birthday cake.”

That earns a surprised smile from you. “I didn’t think you’d be this thoughtful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m always thoughtful.”

“Is calling a middle-aged man a walrus a form of your thoughtfulness?”

He snorts, tilting his head to the side with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Since when did you get this sassy?” You’re about to put another retort when he suddenly kisses your cheek.

“Hey!” You abruptly step away from him, palming the side of your face. “What did I tell you about my wish again?”

He grins, eyes turning into a cute pair of crescents. “Honest mistake, babe.”

And you poke him in the abs until he drops to his knees, whining, “Whyyyyyyyy?” into the air.

There’s this park near your campus that has nice scenery—unexpectedly picturesque, even—with a huge fountain in the center of it. The green leaves of the camphor trees sway from the morning breeze, intoxicating you with a scent similar to how the pine trees smell after the rain. Children are running around, playing tags, with their parents sitting next to the fountain, busying themselves with their phones while occasionally mutters, “Be careful, don’t run too much!” from time-to-time because apparently, that’s what parents do these days.

Haechan exhales loudly as he takes a seat on the nearest bench, straightening his legs and patting a spot beside him. “Come here. I want to cuddle.”

“There are people around.”

“Since when cuddling becomes a crime?”

“It makes people uncomfortable.”

“You saying no makes me uncomfortable.”

You sigh. There’s no way of winning an argument with him. “Fine, but I’m not sitting on your lap,” you say, ignoring his pout as you take a seat next to him and hand him his chocolate-banana crepes. “Careful, you’re wearing a white shirt,” you warn, offering him his spoon. “It’ll be hard to take the stain off if—”

“I’m not a child,” he grumbles, taking the food roughly off your hand and grimacing when the chocolate syrup drips down to his shirt, staining the fabric. He blinks in surprise with his mouth wide open, before he looks back at you, only to receive a flat stare in return.

“I literally just told you that a second ago.”

Haechan shrugs. “It’s Jaemin’s shirt anyway, so I don’t care.”

With that, you bring your focus back to the food in your hand—a strawberry crepes with a scoop of vanilla ice cream—and takes a bite, almost moaning in delight when the sugary taste hits your tongue. “Man, why did I ever decide to go on a diet? This tastes so gooooood~”

Your smile and small giggle seem to be contagious because Haechan mirrors you almost in the same way though it has nothing to do with the dessert he’s holding. He observes, silently taking notes of the joyful expressions you display on your face while muttering, “How cute,” under his breath. Both of you take a moment to enjoy your so-called breakfast, sometimes taking a sip of your hot coffee to balance the sweet.

“You know,” Haechan says as he gnaws at his dessert again. “This isn’t really how I expected to go when I said I’d grant your wishes.”

“Yeah?” You decide to humor him, though you already know what he’s thinking. “Did you expect me to wish for something else?”

He nods, licking chocolate syrup off his spoon. “Something about you sitting on my face.”

You choke on a piece of strawberry you just plopped into your mouth, and you can feel it blocking your airways. “What are you—” Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes, as you begin to cough fervently.

“What are you, a kid?” Haechan pulls your hair away from your face, patting your back. “There, there.”

“Why on earth would I ask about that?!” You shout when you can properly breathe again.

“I don’t know, I just thought that maybe you wanted me to eat you out.” The way he shrugs so nonchalantly as if he’s simply talking about finding a typo in the papers he just submitted leaves you dumbfounded. “I mean, I kept teasing you about it during sex but never really did it since you were always too stubborn to beg.”

“And do you realize now how annoying you are in bed?”

“That’s not my intention, though!” He genuinely seems a bit guilty. “You just look so cute trying to hold back when it’s obvious you want my tongue inside you—”

“We’re in public, Jesus Christ—”

“It’s your pride that we have a problem with. Why can’t you just for once say, with teary eyes, ‘Haechannie, please, fuck me with your tongue’—”

“People can hear—stop it!” You try to clamp your palm around his mouth, but he dodges it perfectly and places a playful kiss on the back of your hand instead. “And are you seriously begging me to beg you for it? I don’t think that’s how it works, Hyuck.”

“It’s because I actually really want to eat you out,” he groans, sighing into the air, “But I also want to see that cute embarrassed look on your face—do you see how big of a problem this is for me?” His whine falls short when he notices the look on your face. “Wait, are you blushing?”

“I’m not!” But you know you are, you’ve never been so ashamed before. How can you not? Your boyfriend is now a) talking about eating you out, loudly, in public, b) there’s this one passerby, a middle-aged woman who dresses in way too many layers for a day as hot as this, looking at you with the most disgusted look you’ve ever seen displayed on a person’s face, and c) Haechan is still talking about it. “Shut up and just get away from me!”

“Noona, your face is so red!” He’s giggling to himself now, his crepes dribbling more chocolate syrup onto his shirt from how much he’s moving. “Did I get you excited? Does this mean you’re gonna—”

“Next wish! I’ve already thought about my next wish!” You quickly avert his attention, desperately pushing his face with one hand so he’ll stop making kissy faces at you. “I want you to perform a song.”

“What, here?”

“Yeah, you don’t have a problem singing in front of people, right?”

“Of course not,” he snorts loudly. “I have an amazing voice. You know, people should really be paying me to hear me sing, actually.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, though deep down in your heart, you kind of admit that he really does have an amazing voice. His vocal is unique and distinct, easily noticeable even if there are a hundred vocalists in the room. And the way he does his adlibs whenever he sings his favorite tunes actually makes the song sounds a thousand times better. There’s no way you’re going to tell that to his face, though. His ego is already big enough without you feeding him compliments.

“Well then, you’re in luck.” You grin mischievously, nodding your head toward a band that’s been playing acoustic songs near the fountain for quite some time. There are three people playing instruments, with one of them being the vocalist and you comment inwardly in your head that Haechan sounds so much better than him—but maybe you’re just biased. The band is promoting their demo album, trying to get people’s attention to recognize their self-composed songs and buy their album if they fit their taste. No crowds  are gathering in front of them, and you feel kind of sorry because they actually sound pretty good. “If you follow my wish and do it right, you could probably get some tips along the way.”

“You want me to sing with the band? I don’t think they’ll allow me though.”

“They will. I’ll buy their album in exchange.”

Haechan doesn’t seem eager at the slightest. “Must we waste our money away?”

“What, are you scared?” You taunt, raising one of your eyebrows challengingly because you know how much he hates to lose. And it works as expected, because Haechan is now standing up, throwing the rest of his crepes away to the nearest trash bin, and cracks his knuckles.

“Lee Haechan never runs away from a challenge.” He has this annoying cocky grin displayed on his face. “Tell me what song you want me to sing.”

“Your favorite. Man in The Mirror.”

“Dude, I nailed that song. Is this even a challenge?” He clicks his tongue, cocking his head. “So easy.”

He already has taken a few steps away, heading toward the band, when you stop him dead on his tracks by saying, “I know you nailed it. That’s why we have to keep it interesting so here’s my wish: I want you to sing out of tune.”

Even if you said that he was turning on his heels at the speed of light, it wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration. “NO FUCKING WAY.”

“Ah, but sadly,” you fake a pout, mocking him, “You promised you’d grant my wish.”

“But that’s just stupid! Why would I do something like that? Why would anyone do something like that?” He shakes his head furiously. “And doing this to my favorite singer?! Hell no!”

“Haechannie.”

“No.”

“Haechannie.”

“NO.”

You sigh, walking closer to him and pull him down by the hand to close the gap between your heights and murmur in his ear. “If you do that,” you breathe out, trying your best to sound as sexy as you can, “I might consider buying that customized dildo you want this weekend.”

Haechan has his jaw hanging low on his face, looking at you with his wide eyes shaking in disbelief. “Oh my God,” he whines, placing both hands on your shoulders before rocking you back and forth. “Noonaaaaa~ This is soooo not fair. You can’t do this to me!”

You chuckle at how childish he is. “So, how is it going to be, Lee Donghyuck-sshi?”

He contemplates hard about it—really hard, probably the hardest thinking he ever did in his entire life—nibbling on his lower lip as he does it. After a moment has passed, he finally ends it with his signature pout. “But you promise, right? No pranking me this time?”

“I promise,” you say with a firm nod but you have your fingers crossed behind your back.

“Fine,” he says as if it was the heaviest decision he has ever made. “Then, I’ll sing… off-key—eww!” He sticks out his tongue, clutching his arms around his stomach. “I’m about to throw up my crepes just by thinking about it.”

“Good luck.” You pat his shoulder. “Oh, and make sure you sing the first part like you always do, so people will notice and start listening to how amazing your voice is. And when they’re so into it, as you get to the second chorus, that’s when you start singing off-key.”

Haechan’s eyes are lifeless when they bore into you. “Isn’t it time for you to go back to hell, Satan?”

“Remember, Haechannie,” you press a finger to your lips, winking at him. “Customized. Dildo.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you too.”

So both of you get into the business. After the band performed an acoustic version of their titled song, you approach them with a smile, offering your hand to the vocalist. You tell them how talented they are, making sure to bedazzle them with compliments and your charming attitudes so things can go as planned. It’s actually not that hard trying to convince them to accompany your boyfriend sing, especially when you say you’re going to buy two of their demo albums.

“What song do you want to sing, dude?” The vocalist, a friendly man most likely in his twenties with a goatee on his face, asks Haechan while offering a fist bump. Your boyfriend grimaces, bumping his fist against him like it’s the most disgusting thing he’s ever done.

“Something wrong?” The man asks. “You look kinda pale, man.”

“He just ate something bad during breakfast earlier,” you come to answer him instead, rubbing Haechan’s back soothingly. “But he’s fine now. Can you guys play Man in The Mirror?”

“Michael Jackson, right? Sure thing.”

You elbow your boyfriend playfully on the side of his stomach. “Sure thing, he said.”

“I want to die.”

“Aaw, poor baby,” you pucker your lips, having the best time of your life making fun of him. “Now off you go, I’ll be right here.” And you bring your iPhone in the air, camera-ready with a tap of your thumb. Haechan has his eyes on the standing microphone, looking at it like it’s the most horrifying thing he’s ever witnessed in his life.

Haechan just barely takes a step forward before he runs back to your spot again, all jumpy and twitchy. “I can’t—I can’t do this—this is so embarrassing—”

“On three, okay, man?” The vocalist takes a seat on one of the little stools they have placed next to the amplifiers with his Fender guitar placed firmly on his lap. And before Haechan can give him a nod or any sign in return, he begins counting and the entire band plays the song. There’s no way out of this now.

Haechan finally walks toward the mic with his soul most likely leaving his body with every step he takes.

You give him a cheer as loud as you can—not to support him, but so you can gather people’s attention. Haechan shushes you down in panic before he finally takes the mic, constantly throwing ice daggers at you with his eyes. You begin to chant his name—“Lee Donghyuck! Lee Donghyuck!”—and with every shout of it, Haechan dies a little bit more.

Haechan falls two beats behind before he finally sings into the microphone, his voice resonating through the air. He does sound amazing, albeit a little nervous and that’s probably just because he’s doing the dare. He usually sounds confident, his voice sounding strong and clear not caring if the room is empty or filled with people so this anxious version of him really makes you think that maybe you’ve forced him a little bit too far.

He completes the first part of the song rather easily and the entire band behind him nod their heads along to the music, amazement sparkling in their eyes. You can see the vocalist quietly mouths, “Damn, he’s good,” to the member sitting beside him who shortly agrees wholeheartedly. You can’t help but smile at that, looking like a proud mom.

People, one-by-one, begin to gather around you, whispering to one another, asking, “Who is he? What band is this?” or simply praising his vocal and your smile grows wider. It vanishes almost instantly, though, the second you hear some girls chattering behind your back, talking about how attractive Haechan looks—especially in that leather jacket and those dark combat boots he’s wearing. You never pegged yourself to be a jealous, overprotective girlfriend before but with Haechan, perhaps you’re beginning to turn exactly into that.

Haechan, who seems pretty pleased with how he sang the first part, suddenly begins to fidget on his feet. The more he gets closer to the second chorus, the paler he becomes and he has his eyes tightly shut when he’s finally there, singing the first two lines in the right way before forcing himself to sing off-key.

You blurt out laughing but immediately clasp a hand over your mouth. Haechan looks like he’s in pain, and the rest of the band has their eyebrows furrowed in question, looking back and forth at each other, probably asking, what the hell is wrong with this dude, he was doing so good before. The audience begins to look at one another, eyebrows knitting in concern. New visitors stop in their tracks, looking at your boyfriend with judging looks on their faces. Even the parents that were so busy with their phones before begin to lift their heads from the screen, trying to know who is this terrible singer and why is he wailing like this.

Haechan sounds so awful and you can only imagine how much this is killing him from the inside. He barely gets to the end of the second chorus before he turns to face the band, bowing his head and shouting, “I’m so sorry!” before he scrambles on his feet, running toward you.

“Wait, Hyuck, you haven’t finished—” Your protest ends in laughter when Haechan rashly hooks an arm around your shoulder, breaking through the crowd and forcing you to match his steps so you can leave the park for good.

He’s never stepping into this place ever again, you’re sure of it.

***

On the way back to the dorm, you stop by the bakery you’ve been wanting to visit and Haechan buys you a birthday cake as promised but with a permanent pout displayed on his place.

“A cake for your girlfriend?” The cashier lady asks with a friendly smile.

Haechan simply pouts harder, muttering, “Yes, my super annoying girlfriend.” And you pop out from behind his back, raising a hand in the air as you beam at her with a cheeky grin, “Yep, that’s me!”

Haechan walks next to you on the sidewalk as if he just did the longest marathon he ever did in his life—all drained out and slow on his steps. His shoulders are hunched forward, his eyes droopy and every time you take a peek and share a glance at him, he’ll start fuming again—like an angry child, upset for being left alone in his grandma’s house while the whole family went on a trip.

“Okay, knowing how fast you’re walking right now,” you mutter sarcastically, looking at the nonexistent watch you wear around your wrist for dramatic effects, “We’ll be back in our dorm at approximately eighty-four years from now.”

“Whatever. I’m still angry at you.”

“But we just started! I thought you wanted to make me happy.” You try to look as sad as possible, batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s my birthday, you know.”

“I wasn’t aware that making you happy equals giving me emotional distress.” After two seconds passed by in silence, he adds, “And physical pain.”

You smile at the attitude he’s giving, wondering just how cute can this man be by the end of the day. Maybe you should keep torturing him a little.

Just a little bit more.

“Haechannie,” you roll his name off your tongue in a playful manner, wrapping both arms around his right one. “I’m ready for my next wish.”

“Didn’t you listen to any word I just said?”

“See that old lady over there?”

“Yeah, you clearly didn’t.” Haechan follows your gaze with a heavy sigh, not quite pleased with how easily you ignore his complaints, and he sees a grey-haired woman, old enough to be his grandmother, sitting alone on a bench with a book on her hands and her glasses hanging dangerously low on the bridge of her nose. Her cane lays still on her side, and by the look of it, she appears to be waiting for someone.

“Oh come on, leave her alone,” Haechan says, already looking sorry for her even when you haven’t said anything yet. “She’s so old and she looks so frail. I am not going to do your stupid dare at the cost of her life.”

You roll your eyes.“Relax, I won’t ask something that stupid.”

“Oh, because your first wish was just so brilliant, I suppose?”

“I’m serious, I’m not that mean.” Not to her, at least. “I just want you to sit next to her on the bench and act like it’s the worst day of your life.”

“I won’t be calling that acting,” he grumbles. “I am having the worst day of my life.”

“What? I thought we’re having fun!” You try so hard to look sympathetic enough for him but it’s almost an impossible deed to do when you’re seconds away from laughing.

“You’re having fun.” He squints his eyes menacingly. “I’m having a fucking seizure.”

“You’re fine, don’t be too dramatic.” You card your fingers through his hair, pushing back the bangs from his eyes to showcase his temple exactly the way you like it. “Well, I want you to act sad—like, really sad, bawling your eyes out and everything—and when she asks you why, explain that you just found out you’re adopted.” You press something against his palm. “Here.”

Haechan has his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he takes a look at it. “What’s this?”

“A postcard with a picture of your parents. I just bought it at the minimart before when you were in the bakery.”

“But…” He stares in horror. “They’re Americans.”

“Exactly.” You know there’s a shit-eating grin blooming on your face but you cannot wipe it off. “You can walk away after she tries to comfort you or give you some advice or something.”

Haechan keeps scowling at you as if he wanted to eat you alive, but you charm him with your brightest smile until he sighs and tucks the postcard in the back pocket of his jeans. “You know I’ll pay you back for this later, right?”

“Wha—I thought you said you’ll grant me any wishes for free!”

“MAN, IF I COULD JUST TURN BACK TIME—“ He yanks out his hair, making you a bit worried because you love his soft, adorable brown locks and he’s been tugging at them for quite some time today. “Okay, fine, I’ll do it. I no longer have any shame left in my body anyway. Or soul, for that matter.” He turns on his heels, straightening his jacket as if that could give him more courage. “You better not blink your eyes.”

“It’s okay even if I do.” You bring out your phone, waving it in the air. “’Cause I’m recording it. This will go viral on Youtube.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you too, Haechannie.”

It takes a good ten minutes for Haechan to prepare himself for the stupid dare he’s about to do, even though he previously claimed he had no shame whatsoever. He paces back-and-forth at the sidewalk, stomping his feet once or twice restlessly, and mutters quietly to himself, “Man up. Man up, you idiot. It’s just a stupid dare.” You desperately want to have a miniature size of this Haechan and keeps him inside your pocket so you can watch him being nervously cute all day long with his cheeks puffed in anger.

“Okay, I’m going.” And he finally steps forward, braver this time, and sits down on the other end of the bench, twiddling his fingers in anxiety. You bite your lip to contain your laughter and press record.

Almost fifteen seconds have passed by and there’s no reaction, not even a glance, coming from the old lady. You can see Haechan nibbling persistently on his lip, his feet tapping worriedly on the ground before he finally lets out the loudest, heaviest sigh in the history of mankind. It’s so loud that it makes the old lady jumps on her seat, her hands going to her chest, her book left abandoned on her lap. Haechan also looks surprised knowing that she’s surprised and everything just looks so hilarious that your camera begins to shake from how hard you try not to laugh.

“I-is there something wrong, my dear?” The old lady asks, shifting her body a little on her seat so she can face him properly.

Haechan takes a deep breath and begins his act by burying his face in his hands, faking a sob. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I just—” He sniffles loudly, trying to make it obvious to her that he’s in agony. “It’s the worst day of my life.”

And it’s cheesy, how he acts, but she seems to buy it—or maybe she’s just too kind. “May I ask what happened? I’m not sure I can help but…” She lands her shaky hand on his back, caressing him soothingly. “It’s always better to pour your feelings out instead of bottling them inside.”

She sounds so genuinely compassionate, unlike the maniacal laughter that currently tumbles down your lips.

Haechan lifts his head, turning towards her. His eyes begin to droop, making him look like a kicked puppy. “I just found out…” He sniffs for dramatic effects. “That… That I’m adopted!” And he loudly whimpers into his hands again.

The old lady gasps, covering her parted lips with her thin fingers. “Oh my… Did your parents tell you that?”

“No, it’s even worse. I found out on my own when they were talking in their room.” Haechan rummages his back pocket, handing her the postcard. “Here, look. It’s a picture of my parents.”

The lady takes the postcard with a pair of heartbroken eyes but they soon begin to change when she notices that the two people in the picture are straight-up Americans, while Haechan, needless to say at this point, looks like the most common—though far more handsome—Korean boy you can encounter on daily basis.

“I know,” Haechan says, wiping a nonexistent tear out of his eyes and fakes another sob. “Surprising, isn’t it? I mean, we look so much alike, there’s no way I would’ve guessed I was adopted if I didn’t hear them talking about it behind my back.”

The old lady is still pretty much dumbstruck with how bizarrely stupid everything is, but she’s too kind to call him out on it. She hands the postcard back to him, looking much less sorry this time, and takes a moment of silence. Haechan cries against his palms again, and you wonder if he’s only faking it or being real about it this time because the entire situation is just painfully awkward.

“You see, my dear,” she begins, voice gentle and reassuring but the sincerity isn’t really the same as before. “Sometimes it really can feel like the world is ending, and I know that this must be hard for you,” she stops to knit her eyebrows, “no matter how obvious this should’ve appeared to you. But maybe it’s not about having a picture-perfect family, but about finding beautiful moments.”

“You’re right,” Haechan hurriedly agrees, his eyes twinkling in delight knowing that this excruciating dare is about to end. “I’m happy with them being my family, even if they’re not, you know, really my parents.”

She smiles but it kind of looks like a grimace, and she says her next words with a gentle pat on his back. “But shouldn’t you have noticed about it sooner, though, dear? You look nothing like them.”

And Haechan winces, not sure how to react. “I could be, uhh…” He licks his lips nervously. “Quite dumb, sometimes.”

“Yes,” she nods, still patting his back. “You certainly can.”

A tall man, at least ten years older than Haechan, approaches their spot with a paper bag in his arms. “Mom, are you ready to—” he stops to take a look at your boyfriend, trying to understand the situation of why is his mother sitting way too close to a guy dressed flirtatiously in a leather jacket and boots with her hand caressing his back. “What are you guys doing?”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m adopted,” Haechan says, handing him the same stupid picture. “She’s just consoling me about it.”

He takes a look and sends him his biggest judging look. “Dude, what are you, stupid?”

***

Haechan is still fuming all the way back to his dorm and no matter how much you apologize about it, he still doesn’t want to talk to you. He throws himself on his bed with his shoes still on the second he enters his room. You’re still smiling quietly to yourself, can barely handle all the cuteness he’s emitting.

“Haechannie,” you gently call, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Are you still upset?”

No answer.

“Look, I said, I’m sorry. Talk to me, please?”

Haechan has his face pressed flat against his comforter and you secretly wonder whether he can even breathe in that position. A few seconds passed by in silence before Haechan finally mumbles, “Did it make you happy?”

“What, you doing my stupid dares?” You can already feel another laughter bubbling up your throat but you have to contain it. You can’t hurt him more than this. “Yes and I know I’ve been mean to you and I’m sorry for that, but you were so cute.” You run a hand along his spine before you carefully caress his hair as a mother would do to a child. “Please don’t be mad.”

He eventually sits up, crossing his legs on the bed, sniffling a little bit while still avoiding eye contact. “Well, I guess, as long as you’re happy.”

“Are you crying?”

“No,” he states, practically puffing out his cheeks by now. “I’m just so embarrassed with all of this. Why are you being so mean to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, come here.” You motion him to come closer, and you know it’s breaking the rules of your first wish but you don’t care. This giant teddy bear desperately needs a hug.

Haechan immediately sighs when you stand with your knees pressed on the bed, wrapping both arms around his head. He sinks his face to the crook of your neck, lowly murmuring, “I hate you,” with his breath fanning your skin.

“You’ve been saying that a lot.”

“Yeah, because you’re mean.”

“But I love you even more today,” you softly reply, pulling away a little so you can trace your fingers along the smoothness of his cheek. “You’re so adorable, Hyuck, do you know that?”

“Is singing out of tune and harassing old lady your kink or something?”

“That’s not it.” You pinch the bridge of his nose, making him yelp a little. “It’s just the way you forced yourself to do these things—these things you hate the most—for me and asking me whether they made me happy or not, while still being all grumpy about it. You’re just so cute and I love you for that.”

The sun is setting outside his window, illuminating his face with such a warm, beautiful glow that somehow makes him appear a bit more melancholic and angelic at the same time. He finally drags his eyes back on yours, with his bottom lip still jutting out slightly. He says the next four words so quietly under his breath that you can barely hear them. “What?”

“I said, I love you too,” he repeats in a rush, before he sinks his face in the slope of your neck again, whining all the way. “Don’t make me say it like this, it’s weird.”

And you notice that this is actually the first time he truly confesses his love for you. He’s joked about it a lot, toying with your feelings at least ten times within a day, casually throwing the word love as if it meant nothing more than mere decoration for his flirtatious lines. But now that he’s saying it in all the seriousness he can muster, he can barely look you in the eyes, can barely say it without whispering, and it’s cute how the usually confident Lee Haechan, crumbles into nothing but a shy little boy facing his feelings for the first time.

“Ah seriously,” he murmurs against your hair. “What are you doing to me? I’m not usually like this.”

You can’t help but tease him. “Yes, you’re usually more satanic.”

“Yah—”

And you stop him with a soft kiss to his lips. You can feel him taking a sharp breath, his arms stiffening as they circle your waist. You’re about to kiss him again when you feel him tensing against your body. Noticing how he looks a bit baffled, you carefully tug yourself away. “What is it?”

“I thought you said we couldn’t kiss today,” he tells in such a small voice.

“I said no sexual activities,” you retort with a sly smirk, making a poor excuse because you really miss kissing him. “This isn’t sexual,” you say, pressing your lips against his again but stop before he can return it. “This is romantic.”

He’s so distracted with your lips that he can barely take his eyes off them even when he talks. “You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” You can’t help but grin but it does not stay long when Haechan suddenly hooks his arm around your hip and pulls you closer until you’re forced to climb into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist for balance.

“Haechan—” Your protest is swallowed by his kiss, his lips chasing after yours almost frantically. You can tell how much he misses you from the way his lips move against yours, or from the way he moans softly at the back of his throat as he settles his hand on the side of your face. His other hand holds you tighter by the waist, his fingers fisting the fabric of your dress. He angles your head to the side, kissing you with parted lips and swiping his tongue along your lower one so you’ll gain him entrance.

“Noona,” he whispers between quick breaths, sounding almost needy. “Noona, I need—”

“Okay, stop.” You place your arms on his shoulders, expanding the space between you. You can’t believe you almost got carried away. “Now this is getting sexual. Let’s head over to my next wish.”

“Wait—but I’m—” He stares at you bewilderedly, not believing the fact that you just casually drag your body away from his lap, smoothen down your hair as if nothing just happened. “Are you serious? You’re playing with me again? When I’m like this?”

“Sorry.” You peck him on the cheek, hiding your grin. “So, for my next wish—”

“Yah! Listen to what I’m saying—”

“I want you to—”

“Noonaaaaaaaa~”

“—sing me a lullaby.” His whining stops abruptly at your words and you quickly explain further before he does it again, “I’m sleepy so I’m gonna take a nap. Your job is to sing me a lullaby until I fall asleep. Easy, right?”

“You really just do whatever you want, don’t you?”

“Only for today. You, on the other hand, do that every day.”

“Fair enough. Do I get to choose the song?”

“Sure.” Knocking your high heels off your feet, you lie down on his bed with a thump, contentedly basking in his scent because his pillows, the duvet underneath you, the soft sheet below your fingertips—everything smells pleasantly like him. Haechan takes off his shoes and his leather jacket—which almost earns a loud protest from you because he looks so good with that jacket on—throwing them somewhere near the bed without care and he lies down by your side, facing you.

You turn your body to face him as well. “Hey, handsome.” You smile sheepishly at him.

He seems a bit caught off guard by it, but smiles back. “Hi.”

“Can we cuddle?”

He laughs softly at that. “Come here.” He gathers your entire figure easily in his arms and you sink your nose to his chest, humming in pleasure. “Stop being so cute, you’re torturing me.” You only giggle in response.

Haechan begins to sing, slowly at first as if he suddenly feels pressured with the way the room is so deep in silence, leaving no excuse for him to make in case he fails. You notice that, so you sneak both of your arms around his waist, snuggling even closer. “Don’t be nervous, it’s only me.”

“I’m not. Why would I be?” He masks his slightly shaky voice with a chuckle. “It’s just that your hair keeps getting into my mouth whenever I try to sing.”

“Of course.” And you keep your lips tightly shut, giving him the time he needs.

Haechan takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Had a perfect picture in my head, with you in the most beautiful dress,” he sings, beautiful notes flowing down from his lips, making you feel like everything around you becomes a blur and there’s only him with his velvety voice and his soft, warm breathing. “I look happy as ever, how did I let you go again.”

He gains confidence with more seconds passing by and you can feel his arms growing slack around your waist, no longer as tense. “Now I'm standing alone in the rain, like the kinda movie that we used to hate. Wish I could take back the time, but I know this time it's real.”

You’re not sure whether it’s because of the lyrics or the way he sings, but as beautiful as his honeyed voice sounds, you can’t help but feel a tinge of sadness growing inside you. It’s as if he’s not singing the song, he’s living through it. And you wonder maybe he’s had his heart broken by someone before—or maybe he’s just so good at putting emotions to his song, you’re still not sure yet.

“Hate that I'm singing this song. Hate that I have to be strong.” Haechan absentmindedly runs his fingers up and down your spine, before he tangles them around the strands of your hair, gently stroking them. “Hate that you're gone. I hate all my flaws. Hate that you love someone else. Hate everything. Just hate everything right now.”

It’s so genuine and soft the way he serenades you, baring his soul and you’re not even looking at his eyes as he sings it. By the end of it, you can’t help but ask him a question. “Will you be singing that song if you ever break up with me?”

He curls up closer, burying the tip of his nose in your hair. “No,” he says but continues before your disappointment can sink in, “If we ever break up, I won’t be doing anything besides getting you back. I don’t like to lose, you know how I am. And I definitely don’t want to lose something—or rather, someone—this important to me.”

“Stop flirting with me,” you chime in, pulling away a little so you can take a look at his face. “You already have me wrapped around your fingers.”

But Haechan doesn’t smile or act cocky about it. He just takes his time analyzing your face, taking in your features as he trails his fingers down from your hair, to your cheek, and finally stopping at the curve of your lips. “I was so worried before though when you met your ex behind my back. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just…” He loses his words when you begin to kiss his fingertips, his eyes becoming unfocused. “I don’t know, I just got anxious about it. I’ve never had someone like you before so…”

It really just sinks in that he wasn’t merely angry because you were seeing your ex-boyfriend again, he was just afraid. He was terrified of losing you but didn’t know how to react properly. He keeps on telling that you belong to him, that he owns you and everything but he doesn’t intend to dominate you. It’s just a way for him to convince himself that you’re still with him, and not in someone else’s arms.

You can feel your lips curving up into a smile. He’s just a clueless boy, probably still as inexperienced as you are when it comes to love.

You’re sinking more into his arms, sighing as he rakes his fingers down your spine. When silence starts to hang in the air, tension growing thick, Haechan spares you a glance. “Noona?”

You’re not sure what it is inside you that drives you wild but when you’re awake from your reverie, your lips are on his again, melting against his heat, and desperately asking him to deepen the kiss.

The way he inadvertently moans against your lips indicates that your kiss catches him off guard but he soon finds back his pace. He crawls on top of you, pressing your body closer, chest meeting chest, and murmurs your name with his silvery voice against your ear, successfully sending goosebumps to every inch of your body.

“Forget my first wish.” You can barely recognize your own voice from how husky it has become. He has his lips tracing your jawline, about to map his way down but you keep him still, not wanting to erase the warmth of his lips on yours just yet. “It’s a stupid wish anyway. I don’t know why I even asked that.”

Haechan forms a space between you, just to take another look at your face. His eyes are hooded, gleaming with desire. “Well then,” he rubs his thumb along your lower lip, while his tongue traces his own. “Can I kiss you more?”

“Yes.” It sounds more like a plead than affirmation, strongly painted with urgency. “Come here.”

Haechan’s lips are warmer than how they usually felt but you can’t be certain. It’s been a while since you last shared an intimate moment with him and you just now realized that it really isn’t just him who desperately seeks attention. You crave his touch way more than he does for yours.

But maybe that’s not true after all, because Haechan has his eyebrows furrowed as he kisses you passionately, his lips keep searching for yours whenever you try to pull away to catch a breath. The way he sinks his fingers along your hips, how determined he is in keeping you close to the point you can start counting on his eyelashes—everything that he does screams his emotions vividly. How much he longs for you. How much he misses the taste of your breath on his tongue.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, your fingers pressed against his jaw. “Please…”

Haechan blinks, a bit startled and perhaps a tad confused as well, considering you stopped him from going too far earlier. But he doesn’t complain and takes every chance he can get, if it means he can be closer to you. It’s so soft, the way he kisses you now, as if he’s having his first kiss, not sure if he’s doing it right but you don’t mind. It’s rare, being kissed by him like this, and somehow it makes your skin tingle as if merely just a touch of his lips is sending electricity to your entire body.

“I love you,” you whisper as you share his breath. “I really do love you, Hyuck.”

The way he halts his action for a good two seconds, probably letting your words sink into his head, makes your own heart skip a beat or two. And you’re worried if you say too much, or if you’ve become too needy and it annoys him, but when you sneak a glance at him, you notice how his cheeks are tainted with red before he leans closer, roughly murmuring, “Just kiss me again,” against your lips.

But the way he’s holding your body makes you feel way more loved than the words he said earlier. And he’s taking his time, just gently moves his lips against yours, his tongue slipping in only slightly to steal a taste. But you sigh against his mouth either way because it’s not only his kiss that weakens you, it’s his entire presence—the way his warmth seeps through the fabric of your dress, the way he’s holding back a moan when you unconsciously tug his locks a little bit too hard, or the way he just naturally smells so sweet, almost honey-like, numbing your other senses at once.

“Noona,” he breathes heavily, tilting his head to the side so you’ll have better access to running your lips against the skin of his neck. “I want… I need…” he trails off, too busy looking at the way you’re slipping your fingers underneath his shirt, tracing his hot feverish skin with your cold digits. “I really need you now.”

“Then keep touching me,” you mumble against his jaw, searching for his lips again. “I want to feel you too. Come closer.” But even if your words speak a sense of urgency, your fingers still feel as light as a feather on his skin and he seems to notice that, because he’s keeping up the same pace, not suddenly rushing to tear your clothes apart like how he usually does.

He chants your name over and over again, almost like a prayer, his desire running thick in his veins. As he moves down, his fingers find their way to the zipper of your dress, pulling it down slowly, and he takes his time to kiss every inch of your body that’s revealed to him one by one.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to do this to you,” he confesses, his nose skimming along the skin of your shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” You arch your back, desperately needing to close the space between you. “I’ve missed you too.”

And you’re half-expecting him to put on a smirk and asks, “Yeah? How much, exactly?” But this time, he doesn’t. His lips are busy marking your skin, sucking gently at the spot that makes you curl your toes. He brings his eyes back to yours again when your lips moan out his name.

“Don’t do that,” he says, looking like he’s gradually losing control of himself. “You know how that drives me crazy.”

“I thought you liked it.”

“I love it, but—” He suddenly presses his lips hard against yours, as if there’s another person inside him that’s been screaming at him to latch his lips with yours before he wastes more second talking nonsense. And you try to reciprocate the movement of his lips with the same speed but he doesn’t give you much room to improvise. He knows what he’s doing, all you need to do is just relax and blend into the kiss. He already makes everything so easy for you. The problem is, he makes you feel like something is pressing against your chest and your stomach is doing crazy flips over and over again.

He finally stops again when you gasp his name.

“Ah, no, seriously.” It’s like he’s fighting a battle within himself, pulling away from you and shaking his head. “I want to take it slow today, Noona, but you moaning my name like that is not making it easy for me so please, just don’t—” He exhales, pressing his temple against yours with his eyes closed. “Don’t torture me like that.”

It’s cute how he tries to hold back, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I’m fine with the way you usually hold me, though.” It’s tempting, and he’s pretty much dazed with the sultry smirk you have on your face, but he shakes his head again, snapping him back from his own thoughts.

“No, it’s your birthday,” he says, eyes switching back and forth from your eyes to your lips as he tries to enunciate his reason. “I want to make it special.”

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “So you’re saying that all the sex we did before today wasn’t special to you?”

He gapes. “No, that’s not—”

“Just kidding.” You giggle, pecking his cheek. “Okay, then, do your thing.” You sit up straight so you can undress properly and his eyes are instantly glued to your chest when your bra slips down your shoulders. You don’t really intend to make it sexy, but the way his eyes grow wide when you say “I’m all yours,” and lies down on his bed again in nothing but your laced underwear seems to indicate that that’s exactly how you look in his mind.

He mutters an almost inaudible fuck under his breath before he snaps himself out of his reverie again. He stands with his knees pressed on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head before he hovers back on top of you, peppering wet kisses from your ear to your neck before he ends it with his tongue trailing down the valley of your breasts.

He stops to reach for his drawer, searching for a condom while you struggle to unfasten his belt and unbutton his jeans. You’re finished a few seconds sooner and already have your back pressed against the sheet again when he crawls on top of you with a packet of condom between his teeth.

“No, wait.” You catch him by his arm as he’s about to tear the package with his teeth. “I’m on the pill today too so you can do it without.”

“Well, fuck,” he exhales, latching his lips back to yours again. “Why are you being so nice to me today?”

“You literally just complained about me being mean to you a few minutes ago.”

“Well, now that I get to come inside you again, I’m taking all my words back.” He gives playful kisses on your nose and cheeks before he licks around your face like how a cute little puppy would.

“Stop it, you’re gross!” But your airy laughter soon begins to vanish, only to be replaced with a sense of uncertainty. You begin to feel nervous when he hooks his fingers around the edge of your underwear and pulling it down your legs, baring yourself completely for his eyes. He’s seen you naked countless times and you never really felt this nervous before so it must be because—

“You seem to be thinking about something,” he interrupts, parting your legs so he can slide in between them. “Something wrong?”

“Umm—I—“ It’s not the way you stutter that betrays you; it’s the prominent blush that stains your cheeks. But you have to do this. You have to say this. Not just for your sake, but his too. “Haechannie..?”

“Yeah, Noona?”

“For my next wish…” You wet your lip anxiously, swallowing your breath, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. “C-can you eat me out, please…?”

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so startled by your action—or by anything, really—to the point that he has to remind himself to blink. “What?”

You groan, hastily grabbing a pillow nearby and use it to cover your face. “Don’t make me say it again, you idiot!” You expect him to laugh, or worse, mock you about it but instead, he snatches the pillow away, throwing it to the side, and wraps his fingers around your wrists, holding you in place.

“Noona, please,” he pleads, his cheeks turning scarlet, mirroring yours. “Please say it again. I want to see you when you say it.”

It’s actually borderline hilarious the way he’s so serious about it, and perhaps it’s really his biggest turn on—one that he hasn’t seen coming from you after all this time—so you decide to swallow your pride and indulge him further.

You repeat your words and watch as his eyes widened again for a split second before they turn gentle, looking so happy that you finally get to answer his wish. “About damn time,” he whispers against your lips, his husky voice reverberating nicely to your ears as he tastes every bit of your mouth with his tongue. He wastes no more time, heading south while placing more wet kisses down your body.

His lips are hovering above your heat, and you can really feel his breath down there. You have your eyes closed in anticipation but Haechan suddenly says, “You know what, let’s do it this way.”

He leaves you hanging and you’re about to be swallowed by shame but he suddenly lies down on the bed, his head almost touching the headboard, and motions you to come closer. “Come here.”

“What?”

“I want you to sit on my face,” he says and you almost choke on your saliva. “Come here, Noona. Please.”

And it stresses you out so much because you’ve never done this before—never even thought about it even—and you figured you just had to lay there and let him do whatever he wants with you. Crawling over to sit on his face is clearly not what you had in mind.

“Come on,” he lightly sneers when he sees how nervous you are. “I won’t bite.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, feeling a little bit lightheaded from how embarrassed you are, but when he offers a hand, you take it and follow his lead.

You have your legs on each side of his head and he’s holding you by your hips, guiding you to lower yourself down to him. “Stop being so tense,” he chuckles and you flinch because he’s so dangerously close. “It’s not like I’ve never seen you up-close before.”

“It’s different—” You gasp when he swipes his tongue against your folds, just once, before he asks, “Different how?”

You’re too occupied with sorting out your feelings and all these sensations that coming into your head at once. “I don’t know, it’s weird—” You almost whine when you feel him moving his tongue again.

“Your thighs are shaking, Noona,” he chuckles, and you clench your teeth, trying to be less conscious of how his hot breath hitting your sensitive spot.

“Please, s-stop talking.”

“I’m trying to make this casual,” he says, his voice sounding less clear as it hits your skin. “If I stop talking, you’re gonna start thinking about things again.”

“I’m not—Haechannie—” You bring your fingers to cover your mouth to stop you from moaning too loud. He’s giving tentative licks around your clit, moving agonizingly slow and you fumble with your hands, not knowing where to place them. Everything feels both terrifyingly good and painfully awkward and you’re trapped between wanting to continue and stop at the same time.

“Here,” Haechan offers, taking one of your hands and guides it down until it finds home in his hair. “Or you can lay your hands against the headboard. But I prefer you do it this way so I’ll know if you’re feeling,” he stops to licks a stripe up your folds, making you shiver, “good, or,” this time, he stops to suck hard on your clit, startling you with the amount of pleasure jolting through your veins that your body begins to tremble. “Extremely good,” he finishes, moving to the side so he can place a kiss on your thigh, letting you feel his teasing smile on your skin.

Your breathing tatters as he continues with his ministrations, now adding one of his fingers inside you to increase the pleasure. Your head hangs low, and you’re not able to tear your eyes away from his face. Seeing him between your thighs, with his eyes closed as if he’s enjoying every second of it, is just the sexiest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

“You seem to be much more relaxed now,” Haechan leans back to show you his godforsaken smirk, “Good girl. Are you starting to regret the fact we didn’t do this sooner?”

And you want to be upset about it—about how he’s still teasing you even during this moment—but the way his breath keeps fanning against your sensitive skin makes you weak. “Please just…” You’re about to sob because it’s too damn embarrassing to be put in this situation. “Stop teasing me, Hyuck…”

Haechan blinks at your expression, his gaze immediately softens. “I’m sorry,” he says, kissing you gently on the inner part of your thigh again. “You’re just so damn cute, I can’t help but tease. Forgive me?”

And you just answer with a small nod because that’s all you can offer before his lips are pressed against your entrance again, tongue slipping inside to know how you really taste. 

“Wait—” You begin to panic from how good and weird it feels. “L-let’s stop for a sec—It’s too much—” The shame, the sensation, the pleasure—they’re all hitting you hard at once and you’re too nervous to function properly.

Haechan sneaks a glance at your face, taking in the way it contorts into several emotions at once. “Baby,” he calls out softly, which sends shivers down to your core. “Don’t be nervous, it’s only me.”

You notice how he’s imitating your words from earlier and that gives you the chance to think about something else. “But… What about you..?” You ask, making eye contact with him and gulping when he raises his eyebrow in question. “I mean, I can’t please you like this.”

“Oh…” He leans his head down to the bed, giving you the space you want but not exactly what you need. “Then… Wanna do it at the same time?”

You nibble at your bottom lip, slowly nodding your head and his eyes gleam excitedly in response.

“Ah, you’re the best, seriously,” he exhales, dreamily looking at you. “All right then, turn around.”

***

It’s two hours before midnight when another idea pops up in your head. “Haechannie,” you call him out, as you click off your phone and turn to him. Hearing him humming in response, you continue. “Call Jaemin and the rest of your cute little boyband.”

By the tone of your voice, he knows he’s going to go through hell again. He groans out loud, head dangling around the edge of his bed. “Why is this day not over yet, I swear to God—”

“Just call them, I’ve got something in mind.”

“Don’t tell me you want me to make-out with them or something.”

“Why, are you interested?”

He grimaces, sticking out his tongue. “I’d rather die.”

“Glad that’s not what I’m asking then.” You climb up to join him on the bed, sitting next to his body with your knee almost touching the side of his head. He shifts around, placing his head on your lap, and stares at you with tired eyes.

“Please don’t be too mean to me this time,” he begs and you snort, can’t believe that the mischievous Lee Donghyuck actually begs you to spare his life.

You card your fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes, relaxing at your touch. It doesn’t last long though, his blissfulness, because on the next second, you say, “I want you to play that online game you always play with them but be terribly bad at it.”

“WHAT—“ He blurts out, sitting upright in such a rush that he almost knocks your heads together. “WHY—HOW COULD YOU—”

“Okay, breathe.”

“But this is too much!” He whines, his eyes widening in horror. “I have a status to uphold! You can’t do this to me!”

“Look, if it matters that much to you, I’ll give you permission to explain the situation to them.” You squeeze his hand, smiling understandingly at him. “You can tell them that you’re doing this because you’re granting my birthday wish.”

That manages to calm him down a little. “So I can let them know before the game? Oh, thank God—”

“No, a month after the game.”

“WHY ARE YOU SO EVIL—”

“Just do it already!” You shout out with a teasing grin strapped to your face. “You owe me at least that much after I let you come in my mouth.”

He gapes, eyes widening in shock. “That was for this?! I feel so tricked!”

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about that before but—” You shake your head, waving the rest of your sentence away. “Come on, Haechannie, please, please, please~” You rub your hands together, batting your eyelashes again.

He grumbles, pushing you away. “Stop doing that aegyo on me, I’m not doing it!”

I’ll grant you five wishes for your birthday!” You can’t believe you’re saying this and you know you’re going to regret it later in the future but there’s still time and you hope he’s gonna forget about it when the time arrives. Hopefully.

Haechanlooks extremely tempted at that. “Any kind of wishes?”

You wince but nod eventually. “As long as it’s nothing sexual.”

“Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that.” His smirk is back and he’s doing it so cockily that it sends shivers down your spine. Well, you can work over that problem later. “Fine, let’s go. Give me the phone.”

Haechan calls Jaemin an asswipe the first second he gets connected but by the sound of his voice coming from the other line, he’s not even bothered in the slightest. “Get off Jeno’s dick for once and log back into your account. Bring Jisung with you. I’ll be online in ten minutes and if I don’t see you there, I’ll text your mom the real reason why you didn’t show up on Christmas Day.” And he shuts off his phone with a click, throwing it randomly on his bed.

“Do boys normally make phone calls like that?” you ask, judging him.

He only shrugs, “Cooler ones do.”

“What happened during Christmas Day?”

“Jaemin got his ass drunk, went out with Jeno, and ended up having a threesome with a stripper.” He yawns, throwing himself back on the bed again. “I’m just glad they didn’t take Jisung with them. He’s been through a lot, that poor kid.” And when he sees you raising an eyebrow in question, he just waves you off. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

There’s a lot of shouting in the background when the game started, most of it coming from the other line of Haechan’s headphones that’s strapped to his ears. You lean close to him so you can hear Jeno shouting at him, “Yah! What the fuck, Lee Donghyuck?! I thought you said you were going left!”

“I am going left.”

“THAT’S NOT LEFT, YOU IDIOT!”

And you feel sorry for your boyfriend for degrading himself on purpose like this. “As you can see,” he says, wincing as his ears begin to ring from all the shouting. He mutes his headphone as he focuses back on you with his fingers angrily tapping on his keyboards. “This causes me physical pain. I hope you’re happy.”

“I am happy.” You peck him on his cheek. “You’re the best. I love you.”

Haechan snorts, looking away and tapping his headphone again to unmute his microphone. “Hey assholes, I just died again. Sorry about that.” More screaming and angry rantings can be heard from the other line and you savor the moment as long as you can. It’s not every day you can see your cocky boyfriend being bullied by his underlings.

It’s too fun watching him play with his face contorting like he’s in deep agony that you begin to lose track of time. You just realize how late it is when Haechan suddenly quits the game, puts his PC back to the sleeping mode, and turns his chair around to face you. You suddenly feel nervous as you sit on the edge of his bed, with him staring at you with a sinful smile creeping up his face, crossing his legs.

“Ten, nine, eight,” he says, tapping his fingers and you flinch in realization. “You better start running, Noona.” He walks over, chucking off his shirt on his way to you whilst continuing his countdown. His silver necklace glints under the fluorescent light of his room and he bends down, trapping you between his arms. “Because I’ll be in charge in three… two…”

You gulp, your heart thrumming loudly against your ribcages as you feel his lips hovering dangerously above yours.

“One.”

***

[africanotaku92]

AUs List

Ok, wow. Y’all really liked my last Au post! Because of that, I now have enough confidence to post a list of all the dumb AUs me and my sisters, @baaaa-king and @omniithedeer, have come up with. If you’d like to enquire about any of these ideas, send me an ask!

Danny Phantom AUs.

1. An AU where Danny and Dani get adopted by a ghost family and gain 400 siblings and an Eldritch grandma.

2. Supernatural Delegations AU (a one shot of the same name is in progress.) Other supernatural/paranormal beings exists and commonly interact with each other. Ghosts have been out of contact since Pariah Dark’s reign, and when they hear about the new monarch (AKA Danny), things get wild.

3. Young Ancients AU. A forgotten ghost artifact is rediscovered, and all the ancients hold a meeting to decide who should have it in their possession. Pariah crashes the meeting and, in the scuffle, activates the artifact, de-aging everyone into their teens. Of course, they go to Danny for help. We have collectively decided that Pariah is British. No one has a say unless it's to confirm.

4. Addams Family Danny Phantom crossover where, after Danny’s powers are reviled and the whole Fenton’s A+ Parenting, Danny runs away. He ends up being found and adopted by Morticia and Gomez. Honestly disappointed no one has made this yet >:(

5. Ghost Royalty AU. Danny, Sam and Tucker are all royalty/nobility in the Zone (Undergrowth is less of an ass here, and formally adopts Sam in Urban Jungle instead of mind controlling her. You already know Danny and Tucks royalty qualifications. Also, I know this isn’t my AU specifically, but my sisters and I have a lot of prompts, so its here.)

BNHA AUs.

1. Isolation AU, inspired by Telescope by Cave Town. AFO is not Hisashi. Inko, Mitsuki and their husbands went to a fertility clinic to have children via IVF. The clinic is actually the fore front for quirk experimentations funded by AFO. Izuku and Katsuki are born from the clinic and taken away, while AFO administers a mind-altering quirk on them to make them believe their children are stillborn. They are then taken and raised in a facility with other children for 15 years before Aizawa comes and rescues them.

2. Gore Warning for this AU!!

Isolated Cannibals AU, Inspired by Animal Cannibal by Karen Skladany. Quirked Izuku AU, specifics below.

Izuku and Katsuki are kidnapped just before their quirks came in and given to the Doctor to perform experiments on them. Along with the quirks they were born with, they were given copies* of a quirk called Carnivore, which lets them digest any form of meat from any creature, and get more nutritional value from it. They can still eat fruits and Vegetables though. For 12 years, they were tortured, tested on, and used as “Disposal” for failed experiments and Nomu before they got rescued.

* Izuku’s quirk is called All for All. He can temporarily posses a quirk, make copies with either temporary or permanent features, and either bind them to himself or another person of his choosing. He can also get creative and merge two copies into one unique customized quirk. The strength of the copied quirk depends on his base quirk, so the more he practices, the stronger the copies. Holding too many quirks could affect his physical and mental health, along with possessing the original drawbacks of the copied quirks.

3. A crack AU where everyone from Class 1A + Monoma and Shinsou is related to the Addams family.

4. Homestuck crossover AU where Izuku has a tiny bit of Troll Ancestry in his bloodline and that makes him pupate when he’s 4 and in an ironic jackpot of the Troll Genetics Lottery, he pupates into a Fushcia blood Troll. This is not his actual Quirk though. His actual quirk is a mix of hydrokinesis and the ability to control sea life. Think of Percy Jackson’s demigod powers. He also has natural pheromones that allow him to control or manipulate anyone his Troll instincts think of as lesser both Humans and Trolls. I plan on making Alternia invade Earth. It happens a few weeks After the Kamino Arc.

Miscellaneous AUs.

1. Homestuck AU where there’s A mafia/syndicate organization called The Ophiuchus Collective that believes in blood equality and that rank should be dictated by hard work. The Signless helped the syndicate in the past and owe him the favour of taking care of his descendant. As they hate owing favours, once they found Karkat they do everything in their power to protect him and ascend him to the position of Heir to the Leader.

2. Smitten Kitten Eyes: Post reveal crack miraculous AU where after a mission Plagg reaches his daily cheese limit (so as to not eat his family into bankruptcy) and Adrien refuses to give him more. Because of this, the next time Adrien transforms, Plagg leave his Chat Noir eyes once everything is over. Now he must navigate life trying to explain to everyone who doesn’t know why he has Chat’s eyes. Marinette has a blast the entire time.

[darker-soft-starker]

Starker High School AU Pt. 6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)

---

tw: general howard stark warning

---

There is a buzzing by his ear.

At first, Tony doesn’t really notice it, waking up in short increments before being pulled back under. But he keeps waking, unsure what keeps tugging him out of his dreams, hand flapping around his face as he tries to stop the incessant ringing.

“Blergh,” he mumbles into his pillow.

Batting his hand around to quell the source of annoyance, he comes to grip his phone, squinting as it lights up inches away from his face and vibrates against his palm. For a second he thinks it’s his alarm, but then he remembers that he didn’t set one. It’s a succession of text notifications cascading down his screen that alerts him out of the slope of slumber with a start.

The only time his phone goes off like this is an emergency. The first thing he registers is that it’s only eight-minutes after seven. He blinks, sight clearing from the sleep wedged in his eye as he reads the flurry of still-incoming texts.

> so thanks for last night > yknow > for the ride > i mean > you know what i mean > anyway > so that folder i gave you had my BIO notes, not econ > im such a doofus > i need them back > don’t bother looking at them lol > can we meet up?

Tony groans, eyelids heavy as anvils. Jesus christ. He didn’t get home until four after dropping this guy off and he’s already up and bothering him? What gives?

Exhausted and annoyed, he tucks his phone under his pillow and sets it on do-not-disturb for extra measure. There ain’t no way he’s getting up at seven on a Saturday for fucking class notes. Prick.

In his opinion, he’s filled his quote of good deeds for the month and he doesn’t need to be up for another few hours. Whatever it is, he thinks, snuggling into his pillow, he’s sure it can wait.

---

The next time he wakes it’s just after nine. There’s a gap in his curtains allowing a sharp shard of sunlight into the room where it directly pierces into his eyelids. 

He groans tiredly into the drool patch on his pillow, willing sleep to come back to him, turning on his other side, gripping the edges of the quilt and tightening it around himself until he is firmly cocooned within it. It’s nice and warm, and sleep is such a rare commodity to him so it’s novel to bask in its dregs. But there isn’t any more sleep to come he’s quick to realize, giving up after a few minutes and blinking up at the ceiling. 

Nine is practically six. It’s criminal to be up this early.

There’s an unusual flurry of texts on his phone, some from Rhodey, but most of them are from Parker, an endless ladder of increasing franticness. 

Tony tosses his phone to the end of his bed carelessly. 

It’s been literally less than twelve hours since he’s had to deal with the shithead. Surely whatever was lodged up his ass couldn’t possibly be as important as Tony ignoring him. 

Swinging his legs off the bed, he stands and stretches his arms up high, fingers curling. The stretch feels good and he takes a quick sniff of his armpits to gauge if he can forego a shower for the third day in a row. 

The stench is wicked. It’s possible that he’s overdue.

He strips off as he heads towards the adjacent bathroom, naked and nursing a semi.

He can’t help but shudder as his back meets the cold tiles, the intuitive shower head following his body with a mechanical whir, miscalculating its aim and spraying him in the face.

Ah. That will need to be recalibrated, he notes. 

But, he can’t say he really minds, tolerating the spray, even as it hits his mouth like a fire hose. He ducks his head to wet his hair, reaching blindly for the touchpad to dial down the pressure. Once the water is to his liking he reaches down to take himself in hand, leisurely stroking himself.

It’s just a perfunctory part of his morning ritual; he doesn’t really have anyone in mind as he brings himself to full hardness, just the fleeting memory of lips around his cock, the next of a well rounded ass, not feeling particularly creative. 

Okay, so maybe he pictures some big, brown eyes and dark hair he can run his fingers through. And maybe he goes off like a rocket. That’s his business.

Anyway, once he’s out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, he inspects his appearance in the mirror. The bruises on his face are still pretty gruesome, deep purple and beginning to yellow around the edges. The cut on his lip seems to be well and truly scabby.

Turning to the side, Tony takes observation of his overall torso region; his stomach is not as defined as he’d like it to be - probably due to his affinity for carbs and sweets, if he’s honest. Between a few fingers he can pinch the skin and pull it a little -- and look, he’s a bit soft around the middle, but he lifts, alright. Maybe he isn’t exactly steel cut like the dudebros on the football team who have made being ripped their life mission, but he has musculature under the adipose.

Is he a little self-conscious about it? Sure. Is he worried about it enough to give up garlic bread and cronuts? No. Especially when he spots a new chest hair nestled comfortably between his pecs.

Probably a bit too proud of himself because of a singular piece of hair, Tony gets dressed in a pair of jeans that have seen better days, speckled with singe marks and thinning at the knees and a singlet, slinging on his leather jacket for the finishing touch. 

He almost forgets the bot.

“Look at you,” he says, to the mangled mess of metal on his desk. Scooping the injured, beeping bot Tony stuffs it into his backpack. “Come here, darling. Shh, you’re okay.”

Peering both ways out of the hall to ensure the coast is clear, he quickly descends the stairs, shushing the bot the whole way.

On the ground floor, he pauses when he hears voices coming from his father’s office. It takes a second to recognise the voices, his father and Stane arguing over one another, loudly, then softly. He tries to listen in, catching somewhat audible hisses about the company finance officer.

Careful to avoid the floorboards that squeak he tiptoes to the kitchen to pocket a few muesli bars and a water bottle from the fridge. 

The voices get progressively louder as he sneaks to the front door, silently saluting their maid as he passes. She waves back at him, offering a sympathetic smile as he goes out the door. 

His heart pounds as he reaches his car, parked around the corner street. 

“Alright, baby,” he grins, revving the engine. “Let’s go.”

---

“The fuck?”

It’s hard to be sure, but perhaps Rhodey doesn’t expect Tony’s unannounced arrival at his front door. Not if the furious scowl and bunny slippers on his feet are anything to go by.

Nonetheless, he slips past the front door, welcoming himself into his friends home, despite the exasperated outcry of for fucks sake Tony, it’s Saturday and it’s not even noon, can’t you call ahead? 

No, he can’t call. Well, actually, he reconsiders, heading down the hall to the basement, his friends footsteps echoing behind him, he probably could, but it wouldn’t make anyone less mad at him, so what’s the point?

Besides, judging by the empty driveway and barren living room, Rhodey’s family is already out, he’s not sure what the issue is.

“The issue is I am tired, man,” his friend complains, following him down the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Me too, honeybear, freakin’ exhausted,” Tony mutters, skipping down the stairs. “Go back to bed. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

“Oh sure, and let you solder your fingers together again. Nah. Not taking the fall for that.”

“I’m not going to solder my fingers together. I’m a pro.”

“Unless you need me to remind you of last summer,” Rhodey takes a seat at the workbench, “I suggest you shut up.”

“You’re rude, you know that?” Tony asks, retrieving the bot from his backpack and setting it upon the bench. “I’ll have you know that I’ve learned since then.”

“And yet you still refuse to wear gloves,” his friend sighs, settling heavily upon the adjacent chair. There’s a comfortable quiet between them while Tony works, carefully settling all the pieces onto the table, moving each with care.

It’s hard to miss the weight of observation on the back of his neck, but he lets his friend drink his fill before he’s ready to speak.

“You fuck up something?” He points to the bot.

Tony shakes his head, pressing the solder into the circuit board. “No. Well, yes. The coding is perfect, as usual, but this idiot isn’t any smarter than a Roomba. He’s meant to be smarter.”

“So?

“He is smarter. I dunno, sometimes he messes up,” Tony mumbles, reaching blindly for the bent-nose pliers before Rhodey places it in his hand. “He’s not bad, just dumb. It’s not his fault.”

“And again, what happened? Did you run him over?”

“No, the old man got sick of me playing with ‘toys’. Dumb-dumb here met the wall in a very dramatic fashion. It was an Oscar-worthy performance.”

There’s a sigh from behind him.

“Does that explain your face?”

Tony glances behind him and smirks. 

“You mean my dashing good looks?”

“Tony.”

“Honestly? I got into a fight with a feral racoon that ran off with some old lady’s purse. It nearly cost me an eye, but I saved the day. She called me a hero, gave me some stale crackers from her purse and then gave me her number.”

“Tony.”

“Fine. I was skateboarding. I was in the middle of executing a super complicated kickflip but lost control when an enlarged gutter rat scurried in front of me. I flew headfirst into the gravel. Very embarrassing. That work?”

“Tony.”

“Look, just leave it will ya? God, you’re like a nagging wife. Pick whichever story makes you feel all nice and fuzzy inside.”

Rhodey is suddenly before him, waving something in his face. “Your phone, jackass. Your better half is calling?”

Huh?

Tony blinks, gently setting down the pliers and the chip he’d removed, taking his phone. It vibrates, Your Better Half flashing across the screen. 

“Parker, ugh.” 

He really should have changed the contact name by now, he thinks, swiping to answer.

“Alcoholics Anonymous,” Tony answers by way of greeting. “How may I direct your call?”

“Ha ha, very funny, asshole. So you are awake. I’ve been trying to contact you all morning.”

“I know. I’m beginning to think you actually might have separation issues,” Tony says. “I just got rid of you like eight hours ago.”

“I’m calling about the folder. Didn’t you read my texts?“

“Oh, I read them,” Tony settles back on the stool and continues to work on the main circuit. “See, I was just ignoring you. Hoping you’d take the hint, but I forget subtlety is lost on you.”

“Look, I need my notes. Can we meet up?”

“Right, for Bio,” Tony rolls his eyes. “Can’t it wait until Monday?”

“No. I, uh -- I have a test first period. I need to study for it.”

“Uh-huh. Just remember, the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. You’ll be fine.”

“I take AP Bio, asswipe, I’m aware of that. Can I just get it back, please?”

“You take AP Bio? Was that an admin error or something?” he asks, holding the chip he’d retrieved earlier up to the light to inspect for any damage. 

It looks to be ok. The damage to the bot overall seems to be mostly cosmetic, couple of scratches, a few dents. Nothing that a few replacement panels wont fix. Whatever he hasn’t already got stored here Rhodey will surely have spare parts, it’ll be fine. God, what would he do if his friend didn’t lovingly tolerate Tony using his space for storage and barging in whenever he lucks. It’s lucky Rhode’s parents are so chill though, unlike his own. He may be a hot-head but he’s practically a saint compared to -

“ - hello? Are you still there? I can hear you breathing.”

Tony blinks. “Right. Your notes. Look, I’m kinda busy. I have a life outside of you and I don’t actually care about your academic integrity, so, you’re gonna have to wait.”

“For how long?”

“I’ll drop them off this evening, like six-ish. Hey, maybe we could do that interview with May if she’ll be around.”

“...I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

“C’mon, I already told you I’m not actually hot for your aunt. I’ll be professional.”

Rhodey shoots him a bewildered look.

“That’s not what -- look, whatever. Just don’t be late okay. I have a life outside of you too.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. I’ll try and not get in the way of your weekend plans of crying while you masturbate.”

“I literally hate you.”

“And yet you aren’t denying the crying. Anyway, I have to go now, try to clean yourself up before I get there. See you at six, bubby,” he hangs up, cracking his neck before refocusing on his mangled creation. “Now where were we?”

“What the fuck.”

Tony pauses, pliers in hand. There is a particular expression on Rhodey’s face erring on the side of confused and haunted. 

“What?”

“’Bubby’?”

“Don’t say it like that - it’s like an inside thing. Don’t repeat it to him, alright, he’ll get pissy. And then I’ll get pissy.”

“You know it’s just a project, right? You two aren’t actually married.”

“Thank god. Could you imagine being married to that guy?” Tony shudders. “Scary.”

“Two weeks ago you said he was the bane of your existence. Now you have ‘inside things’ with him? You saw him last night?”

He sighs, shoulders dropping. Yeah, he doesn’t really have a good explanation for any of that. 

The thing about himself, Tony’s found over time and trial, is that he really, really likes to press buttons. He likes to test variables, wants to see what would happen if he did something he wasn’t supposed to, and map out the world as it occurs in motion around him. Curiosity means he likes to test the parameters, to see what can yield, what will bite back.

More often than not that kind of impulsive brand of curiosity has gotten him in some sort of trouble. Turns out not everything and everyone appreciates being tested - and many things like to lash out when pressed.  

Parker, Tony has found, is somebody that doesn’t yield or bite. If Tony was a betting man he’d have placed his money on the boy being more of a yielding type - but what he does is he presses buttons just as much as Tony does, buttons he didn’t even know he had to be pressed. 

And that very much interests Tony.

He just doesn’t know what to do with that information, except to keep pressing.

“I’ll explain later,” Tony promises, mentally crossing his fingers. “In the meantime, can we forget about Parker and focus on my broken baby here?”

Rhodey relents, but Tony knows that look in his eye. He’ll be hearing about it later and at the most inconvenient time. And he’s gonna tell Pepper.

Wonderful.

He really should change Peter’s contact name in his phone.

---

By the time he leaves the Rhodes residence and heads to his next destination, his robot is in somewhat in working order again. It remains fairly immobile though, just until Tony can replace the damaged infrared and touch sensor. It clicks its metal claws sadly towards Tony in the passenger seat as he drives.

It’s a Roy Orbison kind of day, so the music is loud and the guitar is heavy as he makes the drive to Harlem.

And if Tony frees a hand to pat the bot on its’ metal head every so often, that’s his business.

When he reaches the other side of the city he parks in his usual space at a nearby lot and contemplates whether or not he should leave the malfunctioning bot in his car for the sake of being professional. It clicks at his jacket, weakly grasping the material as if on a plea - and damn, Tony knows the thing isn’t actually sentient but what kind of asshole would he be if he left it here for the day.

Heart squeezing with sympathy, Tony delicately places him in the backpack, leaving the zip partially open for ‘air’.

Next, snacks.

While he’s retrieving a pack (or two) of Reeses, he comes across Parker’s folder that he’d stashed there last night. Their conversation from earlier returns to the forefront of his mind.

Look, Parker might not be the knuckle-dragging, monosyllabic dumbass Tony initially suspected that he was, and yeah he was savvy as demonstrated during their trip to the rental market - and yeah, definitely smarter than his social circle would suggest, and is absolutely and a source of constant surprise to Tony - but is he AP Bio - or AP anything material? 

Time to find out.

The first thing that Tony notices is that the notes are definitely not for Bio. They’re for Econ, as initially prescribed. 

The second thing he notices, as he flicks through the papers, skimming over the complicated graphs and annotated research, is that what he’s reading is actually good. 

Well, I’ll be darned, Tony thinks, eyes getting progressively wider as he flicks through the pages. Not bad at all.

Makes him wonder why Parker thought he was missing his Bio notes though.

The answer to that becomes clear when a crumpled envelope falls out of the stack onto Tony’s lap. He picks it up, at first thinking it’s a part of the research, but pauses. It’s open and it’s addressed to May Parker.

“Um,” he says.

It’s from Queens Presbyterian Hospital, which should make him drop it as if it were burning. It doesn’t, though. Either it’s meant to be included in the folder, or it’s not and that’s why Parker has been acting like a crazy-ex all morning.

Hmm. Tony sits there, torn, debating whether or not to look into it, the overdue stamp standing out against the crisp paper like a warning sign. On one hand, he’s running kinda late and, y’know, privacy or whatever -- on the other, his fingers are already itching to know what’s in it.

Mind your own business, he can already hear Rhodey saying, mind your own business, Tony.

Curiosity and a distinct lack of a moral compass wins, as always. Just a quick peek, that should be okay, right? The envelope is already open anyway, so, it’s not like anyone will be able to tell.

God, this is none of my business, he tells himself, even as he’s retrieving the letter from within and starts reading it. 

Oh.

Tony quickly stashes the letter back into the envelope and back into the folder. Yep, definitely none of his business. 

Yeah, he really shouldn’t have done that. Big fucking yikes on his behalf. And yep, there’s the guilt -- or at least he thinks the stomach churning is guilt, it could be the stale muesli bar he ate on the way.

Nonetheless, it hangs over him like a dark cloud as he picks up his backpack and heads out to the garage across the road. What kind of asshole looks into someone’s mail because they can’t help themselves. This dick, that’s who.

Fixing a grin he doesn’t really feel, he heads to the back office. He knocks on the window, ducking his head into the open door.

“Yo,” he waves to the man sitting behind the desk. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Hey kid,” the man looks up, smiling before his face drops. “Tony, your face. What happened?”

“This? It’s nothing --”

“-- is that why you couldn’t come to work yesterday? Not that I mind,” the man stands up. “Are you okay? Was it --”

“-- Was it nothing to worry about? Absolutely,” Tony holds his hands up in surrender. “Just an unfortunate encounter with a wild, feral squirrel in Central Park. I tell you, they’re deceivingly cute, but they’re pests. Totally out of control.”

“Tony.”

“Jarvis,” he interrupts, gesturing to the cars in the garage behind him. “C’mon. Look, let’s get to work, okay? Save the violins for later.”

And by later he means never.

The man sighs, world-weary, looking at him like he knows exactly what he’s thinking. At first he’s certain his boss is going to push the issue, but it must be a day for dodging bullets because he relents.

“Alright, kid. I got a ninety-four Ford sedan back there with your name on it. Busted fan belt, overheated engine. Probably needs a new set of spark plugs while you’re at it.”

With a grateful nod, Tony heads back, locating the vehicle in question. It’s rusted to all hell and probably not worth the cost of repair, but he gets stuck into it anyway, keen for a distraction. He sets his bag and bot down near him while Jarvis blasts Alice Cooper’s Poison.

Tony might not have all the answers to life’s problems, but this is something he knows how to fix.

---

He probably distracts himself a little too well, because by the time he’s wrapped up with the Ford it’s already five-thirty and he’s a mess of engine oil and coolant.

It’s only when Jarvis squeezes his shoulder and points to the clock on the far wall does he realise that he’s lost his sense of time. How the fuck is he supposed to clean up and get all the way from Harlem to Queens at this time of night?

“Ah, crap,” Tony mutters, setting down his socket-wrench in his toolbox. “I’m late.”

“Late for what? You got a hot date or something?” Jarvis asks, stepping back to give him some room as he rushes to the staff bathroom. 

“What, no,” He calls back, running the faucet and pumping soap over his hands. “I gotta go see about a guy.” He struggles to hear his boss over the running water but he doesn’t have time to stop and figure it out. 

“From school?”

“Yes, and a prime pain in my ass,” Tony mutters, drying his hands on his jeans, walking back into the garage. “Anyway, see you Monday, chief?”

His boss nods, passing Tony his earnings for the week in cash. Tony should have known to dash and run because he starts hearing the proverbial violins when Jarvis clamps a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in a way that is more paternal than Tony is comfortable with. 

“You know you can call me, you have my number. You come up and see me and the missus whenever you want.”

Tony fake snores.

“Jarvis.”

“We have a spare room,” he insists, shrugging sheepishly and stepping back. “It’s yours at any time.”

“I see you enough, okay, don’t push it. I’ll see you Monday,” Tony draws him into a one-armed hug and claps him on the back. “Don’t you worry about me.” 

“Don’t make me worry.”

“No promises,” Tony salutes, slinging his backpack on shoulder and walking backwards out of the garage to the street. “Hug the missus for me.”

Jarvis salutes back. 

With that he sprints across the street when there’s a gap in traffic, bot snapping gently at his hair as he runs.

Sweaty and sore, he is full of energy, a sense of accomplishment coursing through his blood, like an afternoon of work can only provide. He should fire off a text, he thinks, as he starts the ignition and heads out onto the road, yeah. Let Parker know he will be late.

And he does genuinely mean to send a message at the next traffic stop, but then Queen starts playing on the radio and Tony isn’t a fool, okay, he turns that up loud.

Next traffic stop, he promises himself.

---

“I’m beginning to think you can’t read the time,” Parker opens the door with a scowl. “You said six.”

Wincing in the hallway, Tony looks at his phone. Six-fifty-nine. It’s not totally his fault, okay. There was a pile up along the way and traffic was a nightmare of  ridiculous proportions. He swears he’s gonna be the first person to invent a commercially viable flying car just for the sake of personally avoiding road congestion.

“Yeah, so. Here’s the thing: I had things to do, okay, priorities --”

“You and your priorities, I swear to god --”

“Here,” Tony cuts him off, passing him his folder, letter neatly inside where it isn’t going to obviously slip out. “Your folder, dumbass.”

Peter grips it, holding it to his chest as he stares at Tony for a moment, before passing it to the nearest flat surface, a weathered and small table that holds their keys.

“Okay, thanks,” Peter nods, smiling grimly, looking behind his shoulder. “Appreciate it. You can go now.”

“So where are the Econ notes,” Tony blurts, wincing as he plays dumb. “I mean, if you had something prepared.”

Peter blinks, surprised. “Oh, uh. Um, It can wait until Monday, can’t it?”

“The assignment is due Wednesday.”

“Right. Um, just give me a sec --”

“Is that Tony?”

May appears behind Peter, smiling brightly. Tony waves, rocking back on his feet. 

“Hey, Missus Parker.”

“Hey there, handsome,” she hip-checks her nephew, joining him in the doorway and glancing between the two. “You didn’t mention we were having company tonight, Pete.”

“He’s not handsome and he’s not staying --”

“-- I was just dropping something off,” he looks to Peter. “And excuse you, the lady has spoken and I have to agree. I am handsome. Some might even say that I’m debonair.”

“And some might say that you’re deplorable.”

“Hmm, I think you mean adorable.”

That prompts a smile out of Peter. He crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his chin up, all haughty.

“Tony Stark, you are many things, but adorable isn’t one of them.”

He leans in, pouting playfully. “Oh come on, Parker. I’m a little cute, aren’t I?”

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

“Uh, let me check,” Peter pauses before smiling sardonically. “Verdicts in - jury says you’re one-hundred-percent despicable. Sorry.”

"I’m sure I could sway the jury.”

“I think you mean you could pay the jury.”

Tony nods, pretending to be serious. “Well, yeah. You know, for consensus.”

Peter licks his lips, shifting closer.

“Consensus is important...”

“...Well, if you two are done,” May says after an extended period of silence, tying her hair back into a ponytail. “We were just about to head out to a Thai place around the corner. Tony, you should join us.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I should go --”

The rest of his words are cut off by a truly monstrous growl of his stomach. He winces, scrunching up his nose sheepishly. He probably should have eaten more than Reeses all afternoon.

“Well, I guess that settles that,” May says, stepping out of the doorway and beckoning Tony in. “Come in. Sorry about the mess.” 

It’s with Peter still staring at him that he reluctantly enters their apartment, brushing past the other boy. It looks the same as it did the other week, mostly tidy and smelling like incense. There’s a sizeable stack of unfolded laundry on the dining table, however, that wasn’t there before. 

Tony’s distracted by a pair of dancing-bulbasaur boxers sticking out of the pile when May leans in close to sniff at his hair. 

“You’ve got something in your hair, honey. Is that paint?”

He runs his fingers through his hair, palm coming back streaked with green. “Oh, uh, radiator fluid,” he explains, holding up his hand. 

“Can I ask what you did to your face?”

“I saved a homeless guy and his beef-sandwich from a pack of rabid, angry dogs. No need to call me a hero.”

May looks at him oddly. “Oh, well, if you say so. Go get yourself washed up and we can head out.”

The burn of Peter’s stare follows him all the way to their bathroom.

---

The meal is less awkward than Tony thought it would be.

Well, for him at least.

Over larb and khao pad they’d gotten through an informal interview with May about her experience as a caregiver with a single income. Not only was it informative for his own future financial independence, but she has been generous enough to speckle in colorful anecdotes of her nephew’s upbringing. Parker’s face has been getting progressively redder all night and it has nothing to do with the spice in his food.

Tony has enjoyed the evening thoroughly.

“ - and of course, we were lucky we hadn’t decided to go cheap on the health insurance. Especially when Pete here broke his wrist at gymnastics when he was eight.”

Tony barely holds back a snort. 

“You did gymnastics, Parker?”

Peter tips his head back to stare at the ceiling and sighs. The flush seems to be creeping down his neck too, Tony observes gleefully. He stuffs a large mouthful of rice in his mouth to mitigate the urge to tease. 

"Yes, he was very good, weren’t you, Pete? So talented, you should see his medals.”

“Stop, please.”

“C’mon, no need to be embarrassed, Pete, you were amazing,” she says. “You’re still a flexible little bug, aren’t you?”

Tony chokes on his rice.

Peter has his eyes squeezed shut and looks like he wants the earth to swallow him whole. 

“May, I’m literally begging you.”

“Uh,” he beats at his chest with his fist, swallowing roughly. “So how long did you do that for?”

“Until I was fourteen.”

“Why’d you quit?”

There’s a very deliberate, weighted pause. May and Peter share a look between them and Tony gets a deeply uncomfortable sense that he’s just stuck his foot in it. Retract, he thinks, already regretting opening his mouth.

“Well,” May clears her throat, her tone light. “After my husband, Pete’s uncle Ben died, we moved away and we had to make some... financial cuts at the time.”

The bite he’s just taken goes to ash in his mouth. God, he really is a big idiot isn’t he. He’d assumed that May never got married to the man in the photos or that they’d just divorced, he didn’t realise that he’d passed - and so recently, too. Welling up with shame, he can’t stop himself from glancing at Peter, who’s staring at the table, lips pursed.

“Oh,” he clears his throat. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to - I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” May waves her hand dismissively, but her smile is strained. “Anyway, what about you, Tony? You’re severely asthmatic, right? That must have been hard, growing up if you wanted to play sports.”

Tony’s eyes widen.

“Yes, um, so hard. Luckily I’m not really an exercise-y kinda guy. I personally prefer to keep a heart rate below eighty beats per minute.”

“Did you have any hobbies growing up?”

“Yeah, driving my parents crazy,” Tony says, glad for the shift from the somber topic. “Escaping from nannies, seeing how quickly I could get them to quit.”

“You like tinkering,” Peter says quietly, looking up. “You mentioned, before. Cars and stuff.”

He shrugs, starting to feel as if he’s under the microscope, especially when Peter looks at him, eyes glittering with thinly-veiled interest. 

“I mean, I don’t know. I like - building stuff, I guess. Machines and robots, y’know, cars. It’s like, whatever.”

“You want to be the next Elon Musk or somethin’?” Peter asks, not unkindly, resting his chin on his hand.

“Nah, I wanna be the first Tony Stark,” he scratches his cheek, suddenly bashful. It’s an uncommon feeling for him. One hard to avoid, however, particularly when there is a boy who Tony doesn’t really hate who’s asking about his life like it might matter. 

He clears his throat. “Anyway, mostly it was just me cataloguing all the ways I could make the vein in my fathers’ head pop. I’m still working on that.”

May looks between them, smiling.

“Sounds like you were a handful.”

“Sure was.”

Still is, apparently, no matter how much he tries to stay out of the way.

The silence that follows is punctuated by the sounds of cutlery scraping across plates, of shrinking ice cubes rattling against glass. It feels pensive at the same time as it does thorny, like Tony opened the door to let someone in but accidentally let out a few ghouls.

And despite knowing he’d stepped on a landmine with the Parkers, he can’t help but wonder what other pieces of the puzzle he’s missing. Why Peter doesn’t live with his parents. Not that Tony is invested in him or anything.

He just doesn’t like mysteries, that’s all.

May excuses herself after to head to the bathroom not long after. It’s during that time that the waiter brings the check, which Tony takes immediately, slipping in some of the cash he’d gotten earlier, despite Peter’s protests. He was gonna do it anyway, even if he didn’t have the letter in the back of his mind.

“Stop paying for me,” Peter says after he passes the check-book back to the waiter. “Your family is rich, I get it. I’ve told you, I don’t need your charity.”

Tony shakes his head. It’s not worth mentioning that the only money he spends doesn’t come from his family.

“It’s not charity. Do you really think I’m that nice, eh? C’mon. Maybe I like lording it over you.”

“Well, at some point I’m going to pay you back.”

“And when that time comes I’m not going to accept your money.”

“You will,” Peter smiles wryly down at his plate. “I have my ways.”

“As do I, sweetums. Now, do me a favour: shut up and finish your larb.”

Peter does, but something about him shifts. It seems more quiet and contemplative, his eyes staying longer on Tony than they normally would. He wants to tell him to take a picture, but for once, Tony thinks it’s probably best if he keeps his mouth shut.

---

Back at the apartment, Peter goes to retrieve his ‘Econ notes’, taking the folder from the table and retreating to his bedroom. In the interim, May offers to let Tony stay over, inviting him for what he’s sure would be a rousing game of Mario Kart. 

He politely declines.

“You sure? Winner gets to choose a movie.”

“I should really get home,” he says. “Thanks though. And thanks for dinner.”

“No problem. Thank you for paying, you didn’t have to do that. Let me pay you back.”

“No need. Think of it as payment for your services and letting us pick your brain tonight.”

She reluctantly accepts with a lot less pride than what her nephew displayed and that makes Tony feel a little sick, because it’s evident that she’s a proud and stubborn woman by nature. Her acceptance, albeit laboured, speaks volumes as to the reasoning behind it.

What takes him by surprise is when she hugs him goodbye and kisses his cheek.

“You’re a good egg, Anthony. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

It’s probably the most maternal touch he’s had since, well. Probably since he last went to stay with Jarvis and his wife. Fidgeting in the hold, he’s not sure if he wants to squirm or to sink into it.

May leaves when Peter comes back in, a familiar stack of notes in his hands that he passes to Tony.

“You gonna kiss me goodbye, too?”

“What?” Peter blinks.

"Uh, never mind,” Tony waves the papers at him. “Thanks for this.”

Peter looks around to make sure they’re alone before leaning in rather promptly. 

“Wow, hold up on the proximity there,” Tony inches back, startled by their sudden closeness. “I was joking about the kiss --”

“You read the letter, didn’t you,” Peter whisper-hisses.

“What? Letter? What letter?” Tony says, voice strangled. “I don’t know of any letter.”

He gets a painful poke in his chest for his lies.

“Don’t play dumb. It wasn’t where I left it.”

“I’m not -- ow, quit poking me.”

“Then stop lying. You’re unbelievable -- don’t you know that opening someone else’s mail is a crime?”

Tony’s shoulders slump as he concedes.

“Look, it was an accident, it just slipped out. And also, it’s not technically a crime, if the envelope was already open.”

“Oh and the letter magically opened itself and forced you to read it.” 

“That could be argued.”

“Why couldn’t you mind your own business?“

Sick of being poked, he shoves the papers between his arm and his ribs to hold them and takes Peter’s fingers in his hands, squeezing the digits when they struggle to break free of his hold.

“I should have, I admit it - I didn’t think, okay, I’m sorry. Is she okay?”

Peter stops struggling, looking over his shoulder again.

“I don’t know,” he leans in again to whisper, “I only found it yesterday, I haven’t spoken to her yet. Look, I know you hate me, but can you please not tell anyone about this?”

“Why would I tell anyone?”

“I don’t know, because you’re the devil, and you get a kick out of seeing me suffer?”

“True, but I’m not going to tell anyone. Promise. That would make me look like an asshole and you like a martyr. Ergo, I shut my cake hole and continue looking better than you.”

“You’re a real prince charming,” the other boy huffs, but seems to take him at face value. “If I find out differently I’m going to come after you. You’re going to need dental work afterwards.”

Tony lets go of their joined hands, balling his fists and raising them to his face, mimicking what the other boy had done last night. 

“You wanna tousle, huh?”

He gets a light shove out the doorway for his attitude.

“Alright, smartass. Get the fuck outta here already.”

“Going, going. Goodnight, princess.”

He mock bows, peering up under his eyelashes, momentarily arrested as he watches Parker roll his eyes and bite his bottom lip in an attempt to smother a smile. 

His heart continues to beat a bit oddly all the way down to the car, where he sits in contemplative silence for a few moments until the sound of metal clicking shifts him out of his thoughts.

“Oh, hey you,” he coos, gently retrieving his bot from his bag and placing it in the passenger seat, instantly feeling bad. “I didn’t think I would take so long. I’m sorry.”

Placing a seatbelt over the bot and buckling him in, Tony begins to narrate his night to him as he pulls off the curb and begins driving.

“I guess that Parker isn’t so bad,” he tells the bot, who swivels its head in response to his voice. “I mean, he can’t dress for shit and has questionable tastes in friends - oh, and cannot hold his liquor - but I dunno, baby-bot. He’s okay. Don’t tell anyone I said that, though -- and oh my god, did I mention he did gymnastics, what a fucking dork...”

The thoughts churn and buoy him until he pulls up to his house nearly an hour later. From the driveway he can see his fathers office light still on.

The sight of it makes his stomach drop, all good cheer gone in an instant. 

“Damn,” Tony whispers to himself, tapping his knuckles against the steering wheel. This time of night on a Saturday can only mean one thing and he is really not in the mood to be in the crosshairs of whatever his father and Stane are up to.

But before he can work himself into a worry his phone vibrates in his pocket.

> hey, look, thanks for not being a total dick tonight about everything > and last night as well, I guess > yknow what i mean < ur welcome < by the way, i’m proud of you  > for what < not finishing off ur aunts beer tonight < takes strength < asking for help is the first step > omfg i take back what i said > ur the worst < and ur a pain in my ass > they have creams for that u know > anyway, g’nite, butthole > p.s. you’re still not adorable Tony smiles down at his phone. < goodnight bambi The bot clicks at him, breaking him out of his train of thought.

“Don’t look at me like that. Let’s go in, but you gotta keep quiet, okay.”

He manages to avoid detection and attention from anyone, despite accidentally stepping on a squeaky floorboard. Maybe it had something to do with the record player and raucous laughter coming from the office.

In any case, Tony’s just happy to make it back to his bedroom. There, he toes off his sneakers and starts getting ready for bed, stashing the leftover cash into a drawer.

It makes him think about Peter’s reluctance for Tony to pay for over the last couple of instances, and how freaking annoying that is. And rude. 

Honestly, the dude should count himself as one of the lucky guys - Tony is not that magnanimous. He doesn’t experience an impulsive, unthinking eagerness to provide for just anybody.

Oh.

Tony stills in the middle of his bedroom.

Oh no.

He knows what this is.

“This is bad.”

---

*

*

---

tagging: @bylerboyfriends @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @muse-of-gods, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @plueschpop, @spideravocados, @jellybbunny,  @booktrashme, @elfkido, @mycatislickingmybedsheets, @queerghostboyo, @disneyprincessdominatrix, @cherrygoldlove @starkerflowers @starkeristheendgame @thewolffearsher @starkersugar , @starkerforlife6969, @css1992, @parkerrbitch, @fuckmemrstark, @blankblankityblank, @ilovemoreid, @blaquedecember, @killmylonelysoul, @notfor-temporaryuse, @arvaen

[ruzek-halstead]

the one that (almost) got away

"my friend dragged me to this party and i just saw my ex - quick, make out with me"

university au

masterlist || ao3

x

It was a month before finals and Julie's to-do list was piling up. Her music courses were slowly starting to drive her insane (best program in the country my ass) and she had absolutely zero time to even breathe, much less be dragged to a party by her roommate.

The past few months had been filled with lectures, compositions, performances and impromptu Netflix binging sessions. She was already stressed enough with everything happening academically, it didn't help that she found her boyfriend of two years on a romantic dinner with another woman (I mean, his tongue was down her throat, what would you make of that?). It hurt like hell, don't get her wrong, but having him out of her life didn't bother her as much as it probably should have. Luckily, she kept herself distracted with classes, extra-curricular activities and her best friend and roommate, Flynn.

"You're going," Flynn stated with the utmost serious expression. She busied herself with rummaging through her closet to find the perfect outfit for tonight's frat party, while Julie focused on the lyrics splayed out in front of her for composition class. "You've been so focused on school that you haven't had any time to enjoy the night life."

Julie rolled her eyes without sparing a glance at her best friend. "Yes, because I'm in university because of the night life," she sassed, "it has absolutely nothing to do with excelling in the most prestigious music program in the country so I can become famous and fly you places in my private jet."

"Details," Flynn muttered, waving her hand in her direction. "Alex's frat is throwing the party, so it won't be overly crazy."

Flynn and Julie made eye contact and Flynn cringed at the unimpressed look on Julie's face.

"Okay, so maybe I can't control that," she admitted. "But still, Alex says you have to come! You can finally meet some of his friends!"

Julie snorted. "I know his friends. I don't like his friends."

"You know Luke," Flynn countered, "you haven't met Reggie or Alex's boyfriend, Willie! And Luke isn't that bad, I promise; he's super sweet."

"Sweet?" Julie spit, eyes widening in annoyance. "He pushed me into the pool at that last party!"

Flynn cringed, yet again. "Okay, yes," she relented. "But it was more like 'he knocked you' into the pool because he was trying to catch the football. And he did!"

"Excuse me for not caring!"

"Just trust me, okay?" Flynn busted out her puppy dog eyes as she jumped on Julie's bed. "They're great, and we can't discuss this anymore. You need a break and you're going. I don't care if you leave twenty-minutes after you get there; you are making an appearance."

Julie and Flynn engaged in a brief stare down, to which Flynn ended by pushing against Julie's shoulder.

"Fine," Julie reluctantly agreed, "I'll make a brief appearance, and I'll meet Alex's friends. But as soon as Luke says something stupid, I'm leaving. Is that clear?"

Flynn's face broke into an excited grin. "Crystal clear, girl!" She squealed. "Oh my god, put your lyrics away. We have to start getting ready right now!"

x

Julie entered the frat party with a newfound attitude and a clear mind. Flynn forced her to take two tequila shots before leaving their apartment, so she could forget about her studies, and so far, it was working. She also didn't want to be the only buzzkill at this party, so she promised herself and Flynn that she would actually try to have some fun.

"There you go, there's that smile!" Flynn cheered, nudging Julie in the direction of the drinks. Together they mixed a creative concoction and set out to find Flynn's good friend, Alex.

They found him relatively quickly; he was dominating at the beer pong table. When he saw  Flynn and Julie, his face lit up and he tapped a random guy next to him, shouting, "sub in for me, my bestie's here!"

With that, he ran over to Flynn to give her a bone-crushing hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek (he was definitely more than two shots and a cocktail in). "Hey Jules!" He greeted the brunette, wrapping her under his other arm. "Ah, my girls are here. I have to find the guys!"

"Julie's going to love them!" Flynn added, following as Alex pulled them along. He pulled them until they stepped into the backyard where the party was just as lively as inside. "Look, there's Reggie!"

Alex dragged them over to two guys who seemed to be in a heated conversation.

"I can't believe you don't like The Office!" The one with a red flannel shirt tied around his waist exclaimed, throwing his arms up for emphasis. "Michael Scott is the single greatest character ever created."

The other one with his hair tied up in a bun rolled his eyes. "If that's what you think, then you need more help than I can offer."

"Whatever," Red Flannel replied, turning his attention to the newcomers. "Flynn, you're here!" He exclaimed, reaching over to give her a hug. "I'm Reggie!" He told Julie excitedly.

Julie sent him a polite smile. "Hey, nice to meet you. I'm Julie."

"And this," Alex yelled drunkenly, wrapping his arms around the other brunette, "is Willie! He's my boyfriend!"

Willie let out a laugh. "He is so wasted. Nice to meet you, Julie."

Julie sent him a warm smile in response.

Alex turned his attention to Julie. "Julie," he slurred, wrapping an arm around her shoulders again, "is Flynn's best friend and roommate. I've been trying to get her to meet you guys for ages. Wait, where's Luke?"

Julie's shoulders stiffened.

Reggie shrugged. "Who knows."

"I'll go find him," Alex muttered. "Go get another drink, mingle, but you're not allowed to leave until you meet Luke!" He yelled to her as he walked backwards across the room (he was definitely going to trip). "No leaving!"

"Is he forgetting I've already met Luke?" Julie whispered to Flynn, who just shrugged.

Willie hesitantly started after him, turning to say, "I should probably make sure he doesn't do something really stupid."

"And I'm going to go mingle," Julie replied, turning to Flynn who look thoroughly unconvinced.

Flynn pursed her lips. "You better not leave."

"I won't," Julie laughed, "I promise."

With that, they all went their separate ways. Julie stayed outside and watched the beer pong championship for a while, but eventually decided to go back inside because the chill was getting to her. She was also hoping to find Flynn because her 'mingling' was getting boring and she was inching to leave.

She walked back into the building, intent on getting herself a new drink to pass the time. She was about to turn into the kitchen, when she spotted a very familiar face that she hadn't seen in a number of months.

Her ex-boyfriend, Ryan.

And the girl he cheated on her with.

"Oh my god," she muttered, ducking out of the way. She made eye contact solely for a solid millisecond but she knew he saw her. "Fuck."

In her attempt to escape and leave the house party (and the university, if she's being honest), she ran smack into a hard body. "Shit," she heard a deep voice. "Are you okay?"

His hands were wrapped around her upper forearms and she looked up to realize they belonged to her one and only nemesis, Luke Patterson.

"Oh, it's you! Pool girl!"

In any other circumstance, she would probably wrap her hands around his throat and squeeze but she was genuinely too panicked.

"Julie?"

Oh god, Ryan was calling out for her.

"You pushed me into a pool months ago, right?"

Luke's eyebrows narrowed. "Okay, well, it was a little more complicated than that..."

"But you owe me!"

"Uh — sure?"

He looked genuinely confused and regardless of how smart Julie considered herself to be, she was incredibly dumb when it came to men and social situations.

Which is why she uttered, "I'm so sorry, but my ex —" before crashing her lips against his. He seemed to freeze, his hands loosening their grip on her forearms.

Julie quickly doubled back, realizing how stupid of an idea it was. It was Luke, and even though she wasn't particularly a fan of him, she had basically just mauled him without even asking for consent.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," Julie apologized quickly. He was staring at her as if she had three heads. "I'm so sorry. I just saw my ex-boyfriend with the girl he cheated on me with and he was calling my name and I figured, 'oh, why not just make out with someone so he doesn't think I'm a complete —'"

This time, Luke interrupted her with a wicked smirk. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She squeaked in response, but was distracted when he tipped her head back and kissed her. It was soft at first, but he pressed harder against her mouth with an intensity that momentarily took Julie's breath away. His body pressed further against hers, until they rested on the wall behind her.

A moment later, he pulled back and admired her shocked expression.

"How was that?"

His voice was soft and warm and Julie was so stunned, it took her a moment to reply.

But when she did, her recollection and sass came full force.

"Good enough, I guess," she lied through her teeth (it was fucking fantastic). "Your debt is paid, thank you. And stay away from the pool."

With that, she whirled around, dead set on walking away. She was so mind-blown from the kiss, she completely forgot Ryan was still behind her.

"Julie!"

"Shit."

She didn't realize she said it out loud until Ryan's eyebrows furrowed.

"Babe! Wait for me!" The obnoxious voice of Luke Patterson rang through her ears before she felt his arm wrap around her shoulders and hang off her neck. "I'm Luke, Julie's boyfriend. Who are you?"

Julie cringed. She wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Right now.

"I'm Ryan," he answered apprehensively; his new girlfriend was nowhere to be found. "Nice to meet you."

"Is it, though?" Luke replied and Julie's eyes widened. She whipped her head to glare at him, but he was too focused on Ryan. He was wearing a playful smirk but the look in his eyes was everything but playful. "You're the one who cheated on my girl, isn't that right?"

Ryan's face went pale. "I should probably go... Nice to see you, Julie."

"Yeah, you probably should go! Wouldn't want my fist accidentally connecting with your nose!"

Julie's eyes widened and she angrily pushed Luke away from her. "Oh my god, what is wrong with you?"

"I was defending you," he explained like it was obvious, "you're welcome, by the way. Or maybe I should be thanking you," he winked.

Julie never wanted to die as much as she did in that moment.

"Oh my god," she muttered, utterly mortified. "Do you even hear yourself?"

Luke smiled cheekily. "Yeah, I do. And that was," he made the chef's kiss motion. He actually made the chef's kiss motion; Julie wanted to throw up. "Do you think we could continue that? Maybe go out to dinner or something?"

Julie blinked.

"This may shock you, but not everyone here likes you," she replied after a moment. God, this whole situation was getting so far away from her.

Luke smirked. "Sounds ridiculous, but go on."

"You pushed me into a pool, I don't need to like you! And I appreciate you helping me out with my ex, but that was all! This ends here!"

Luke's eyes softened, but there was still a wild gleam in them.

"No."

"No?" Julie spluttered. "What do you mean no?"

Luke shrugged. "You can deny it all you want, but our kiss was definitely something. And I may have my moments, but I'm not dumb enough to let something like that go."

Julie found herself stunned once again.

"What the hell is going on right now?"

"And yeah, I probably could be more charming," he admitted. "And I really am sorry about the pool thing. That wasn't supposed to happen like that!"

Julie looked around for Flynn or Alex or literally everyone who could save her.

"So, what do you say? Dinner on Friday?"

Julie barked out a laugh, but she had to admit, he looked adorably optimistic. She took a moment to admire his appearance and obviously he was ridiculously attractive but — she really had no reason to object.

"Are you out of your mind? I hardly know you!"

"That's the point of a date, Julie. Keep up," he teased, his hazel eyes sparkling.

Julie was genuinely starting to feel faint. This was too much action for one day.

"Slow your roll, Casanova."

Luke's eyebrows rose in amusement. "Want me to slow it down? Even though you just had your tongue down my throat?" Julie squeaked in indignation and Luke chuckled. "Shit, I'm really bad at this whole charming thing apparently. Can I start by getting your number?"

"I honestly don't understand what's happening right now. So, I'll give you my number, but you have to work your ass off for that date."

Luke nodded, biting his lip to hold back a smile. "Yeah, that sounds fair.”

“Oh, look!” Both of their head swivelled around to see Alex, stumbling drunkenly in their direction with Flynn by his side. “Julie met Luke!”

“Dude, they’ve already met. How drunk are you?”

“Wait, why does Luke have lipstick all over his face?”

[naerysthelonesome]

Time spent together

Just a bunch of 3am coffee-induced Litpollo fics (they’re all related)

Part 1

College AU

Lit (Lityerses. Poor boy) is staring at Apollo, the tall, tan, lean but muscular, paragon of beauty with the most beautifully sculpted face I’ve ever seen (And believe me I’ve seen plenty), who’s currently shooting hoops in the basketball court. Off to the side, giving him pointers he does not need, is the smart-ass, Annabeth Chase. All right! Maybe I’m being a little harsh, but I’m really only here to talk about Lit and Apollo.

Oh look! Apollo’s attempting a backward jump shot.

Whatever. I’m sure he succeeds. The boy just cannot miss.

Let’s get back to Lit, shall we?

Of course. OF COURSE the angsty gay boy, with absolutely no social skills, falls for the gorgeous jock with a reputation for dazzling smiles, and leaving behind a trail of broken hearts.

May they can both bond over having the two most ridiculous names on campus.

If only I could tell Lit he looks ridiculous with his jaw hanging open like that. If only I could tell him that his being distracted by Apollo has put him in the path of that idiot Percy and his skateboard. Alas, I am only the narrator.

Percy crashes right into Lit, and they both tumble onto the ground like the pin-heads they are.

At least that caught the attention of the two blondes that caused this. They both jog over, Apollo letting out a short bark of laughter and Annabeth looking slightly concerned.

“Y’all okay?” the boy asks, standing over the two dark-haired dummies, shining like an angel and looking more picturesque than ever with the sun behind him.

“I- uh- Yeah”, Lit sputters. Of course he sputters. It’s quite understandable, honestly. At least he accepts the thinly veined, corded arm Apollo’s graciously reached out toward him.

“Percy! How many times have I told you to please watch where you’re going?” Annabeth asks exasperatedly. Percy does have quite a hit list.

“How can I look at anything but you, when you make it a point to look as gorgeous as that”, he says cheesily, gesturing up at her from the ground.

That draws a reluctant grin out of the girl.

“Oh shut up Perce!” she say, then turns to Lit, NOT graciously reaching an arm out to Percy.

“Sorry about that. My boyfriend’s a ditz”

“Yeah sorry”, Percy says standing up and grinning, “My girlfriend’s way to distracting for me not to be”.

I’m gonna throw up. Or at least I would, if I had a physical body.

“You are okay though, right?” Percy says to poor Lit, who’s been subjected to this disgusting gooeyness.

“Oh. Yeah yeah”, He says, now brushing gravel off his pants, “All good here”.

Annabeth mumbles something to Percy about getting late to class and they rush off. I really couldn’t care less.

Except.

This leaves Lit alone with Apollo.

Finally. They need to start talking. Like NOW. I can’t handle them throwing more furtive glances toward each other, and neither of the oblivious oglers picking up on any of it. IT’S BEEN TORTURE. (I should know. I’ve been tortured before.

“Oh! But how, Great narrator?!” you ask, “If you have no body?”

Well if you had any idea of the rules of etiquette, you’d know that that’s an incredibly rude question to ask. Therefore, we will be moving on)

Oh My God (not that I have one)! They’re talking! Now look what you’ve made me do. I’ve missed part of their conversation!

“Of course I like literature”, Lit says with a scoff, as if it’s obvious.

“All right all right”, Apollo relents, and then after a pause, “Can I walk you to class at least?”

“Oh” Is all the Lit the love-struck fool can say.

“Oh come on”, the golden boy say, grabbing Lit by the arm and hauling him in the direction of the west wing.

“Wait dumbass. I gotta get my books first!” he says pulling away from Apollo.

He runs a hand through his curls, and a blush creeps up Apollo’s slender neck. Of course, Lit doesn’t notice. It’s like they’re trying not to see the tell-tale signs of fist love!

“Just wait here a second, and I’ll fetch them”, Lit says and dashes away without waiting for a response.

Apollo’s hands find their way into his pockets, as he schools his face into bearing a nonchalant expression. Oy.

There’s students milling about, gossiping and trading notes. It’s a fine summer morning. The wind is whistling through the big birch tree, and blowing through the hair of the two girls kissing under it. Oh look! There’s a lone grasshopper…

Well this is boring. How do other narrators do it? Where on Earth is Lit?!

Ah finally. Here he comes, three large books in his arms. The collar of his shirt is wet, and his face looks considerably less splotchy. Well that explains why he took so long.

“Three books? For English lit?” Apollo asks, his arms completely devoid of books, or any other classroom material.

“I get bored”, Lit shrugs as if that explains everything.

So English lit must’ve been what they were discussing before. Unless they were exchanging famous quotes of love and desire from popular classics, which I highly doubt, that was a boring fist conversation.

Ah well. They can make up for it later.

Our journey through the green and into the classroom is entirely uneventful. I would’ve thought Apollo, being the confident social butterfly he is, would have at least struck up a conversation with Lit, but apparently feelings get in the way of such things.

How tiresome.

“Settle down. Settle down”, the woman at the front of the class says, sharply rapping her knuckles against the desk. Her name escapes me…

Anyway, Lit and Apollo make their way to seats as far away from each other as they can manage, both looking slightly disappointed when the other doesn’t stop them. Dorks.

“Now as I mentioned last week, I will be assigning each of you a project partner. I expect you to put in equal effort and come up with creative and suitably appropriate papers”, Ms. Teach says, picking up a list of names. No, that’s not her real name. I wish it was. It would’ve been suitably appropriate.

She rattles off some names. Someone complains. She patiently listens to their complaint and comes back with a refusal. The student angrily flops into his seat, waking up the peacefully snoring person beside him. They glare at him, then at the class and Ms. Rap-knuckles. No one pays them any mind.

Lit listens intently and Apollo pretends not to. There’s a bee merrily buzzing around the classroom. It bangs against a window, then bangs itself against the window again. Interesting. I think I need coffee. I can’t drink any but it sure does smell good…

“Apollo and Lityerses”.

Oh. Now this is a great turn of events!

“Seems fitting”, Ms. Good-at-student-pairing says, with a slight smirk.

Lit looks surprised and angry all at once, his face flushed. Apollo looks like he’s trying really hard not to care, but his mouth is threatening to betray him and reveal his, already quite clear, happiness.

The teacher continues to pair off students, as Lit stares furiously at his book, as if he’s trying to ignite the pages. Apollo looks at his nails, then at Lit, then back at his nails.

A half hour later the bell, blessedly, rings. Lit’s hurriedly making his way to the door.

But why?? He’s going to have to spend time with Apollo anyway!

Oh good, Apollo’s caught his arm.

“Hey we should talk about the project”, he says.

“What’s there to talk about?” Lit replies.

Um… is his crush’s presence causing his brain to malfunction?? I wouldn’t really be surprised if that were the case, consider that his crush is the magnificent Apollo.

“You know… Where we’re gonna do the project, what topic we’re going to pick, et cetera”, the blond says slowly, as if he’s worried about the same thing.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about it. You go shoot hopes, or dazzle people, or whatever it is you do, and I’ll finish the project. I’m not great at working with people anyway. You’ll get your credit”.

Apollo looks high-key offended for a second, but then laughs.

“Is that all you think of me Lit?” he says, “That I’m just some dumb blond jock trope?”

“‘Mythological retellings’ is one of my favorite topics to read about, so that’s the one we’re choosing for our project”, Apollo continues decidedly.

“What? You don’t get to pick the topic by yourself”, Lit snaps at him.

“Why not? What’s wrong with it? Too challenging for you?” Apollo says, smirk gracing his perfect lips.

Everybody here who knows Lit knows he can’t help but rise to a challenge. Now the topic’s practically set in stone.

“Of course not.” Lit says, resentful but stubborn, “Fine then. When do we begin?”

Apollo smiles wide this time, and I can see the blush creeping up Lit’s neck.

“Meet me at the coffee shop just off campus. 3p.m. Right after class”.

[ygreczed-3]

Your wonderful ideas

...That didn’t inspire me at the moment but... They’re all really creative and sweet ! Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me :)

Anonymous :

Aww, isn’t it cute ! I really love poetic quotes, they usually inspire me for more elaborate illustrations, with colors and all. I don’t have the time for this today but I really loved this one.

Anonymous :

Thank you so much ! I think that this community really helped me get better and supported me... So you can all thank yourself for my art lmao ! BUT ! THIS AU THOUGH !!! You should like... write a fanfic ! it’s so good ! You have the human-machine duality, and Connor’s quest for identity but in a whole different universe ! I find it amazing ! What about an ending where Connor stands in front of a beautiful dawn (just like the movie), and realizes Hank saved them all, and he starts to cry because he thinks he has lost him forever... and then Hank comes from behind him and they hug and kiss ? OMG I really love this AU (I love the Matrix trilogy !)😎

@pinkwebby :

Ahaha ! I know Reed900 is a very fertile field for all kind of jealousy tropes ! They’re not my favorite but I’m sure some people are gonna enjoy this prompt so I share it anyway ! I can totally see Nines crushing something he holds, wearing a 100% “-_- face”... while watching Gavin from afar ahah.

@skyfitzgeraldthefucker :

Awww, cute quote 💖 I really believe they can’t live with each other too ! Sorry I didn’t pick up your idea Sky, hope you were happy with the one I illustrated anyway ! Take care too my dear !

@taonpest :

Ohhhh !!! I admit I really really hesitated between this one and the Reed900 idea ! I finally decided I missed Reed900 and wanted to draw them... But this pose is really cool ! I always struggle to find interesting couple poses for some reasons... This one really is great ! Thank you for sharing ! Plus Hank and Connor chilling in a pub is sooooo nice to imagine ❤ (Also, I really wanted to thank you for reblogging my comics every time. Reblogs help spreading my art and it’s truly gratifying ❤)

@theneekytree :

Hhhh no 😭 No angst here I can't take it, I'm not ready to 😂 The problematic of Hank's mortality really is a topic I avoid because it makes me really too sad ! I know this is like the summit of romantic tropes, Eros and Thanatos, love beyond death and all but I just don't like to think about it. I know this is a reality for Hank and Connor but I'm in total denial when it comes to artistic representation of it 😂

Sorry I didn't illustrate it 🙏 I might be seen as a naive person but I really have a sweet spot for "feel good" vibes 😊

Anonymous :

What ?! Angst again !!! Geez you really want me to cry 😂 Makes me think of a never completed series with Hankcon slowburn... Hank being dumb and dumber and refusing to date Connor because he thinks he's not good enough for him... Then he finally changes his mind but Connor went to Cyberlife to get an update and lost his memory in the process... and forgets he loves Hank. This fic hurt my feelings so much 😭

@just-a-fangirl7 :

That definitely counts as Hankcon ! And I'd love to draw Reverse AU Connor one day ! Maybe on a future comic ? 👀 Thank you for this proposition ! I really liked it, if I had more time I'd definitely have drawn it 🤝

Anonymous:

Ahahah yes 😂 Connor getting full angry at someone/something trying to hurt Hank is one of my favorite tropes ! We all see how Hank is acting protective with Connor, but I'm sure our favorite robot boy could go "full murder" as you said on the people trying to hurt his beloved partner. Really, nice idea ! It's a bit hard to draw imo 😅 I wasn't feeling like challenging myself ahaha !

Anonymous:

Such a GAVIN REED thing to do ! They really like to mess up with each other ! Nice idea anon, maybe it'll give someone out there the inspiration they need !

@kiisekii96 :

LMAO ! I'm not exactly good at baking either ! And I can like... totally see Connor trying to cook something really sweet for once to surprise Hank (because he usually tries to cook healthy and Hank finds it lacks salt and sauces ahaha)

But then it's way to sweet, even for Hank 😂 The man would be "I changed my mind, I prefer when you cook healthy" 😂

A bit hard to draw, plus I'm excessively bad at drawing food 😂 But very nice idea !

@au-bunny :

As I said I really like cute lolita dresses, and I'm sure Connor amd Nines would look great wearing these, but I was in a mood for something dramatic and glittery 😂 I really liked the choice of dresses ! You took opposite black and white patterns dor each boy... Cute 🥰

@wingedauthor​ :

Thank you for the compliment ! And LMAO that would have been that, Gavin trying to spar and Nines kicking his ass like a boss ahaha ! Nice idea !

Thank you everyone for your propositions!

Maybe I’ll do something like this again when I reach the 2k followers milestone (I have no idea when i’ll reach it but heh. Or a lotery again. We’ll see !

[normal-thoughts-official]

Thots on a figure skating au??? 🅱️lease

hmmmmmmm ok so disclaimer that i know nothing about figure skating so i'm just making up whatever

you got me in a difficult position here cuz on the one hand, i'd love for magnus to be a trainer/coreographer. i think it suits him wonderfully and that while obviously he is great at dancing and loves it, i think that he's more on the creative side of things, you know? so i could imagine something like figure skater alec and trainer magnus. and like alec is a shadowhunter so of course that demands a high level of control over your body that is similar to a figure skater's

but at the same time its funny to me to try to imagine alec figure skating when hes a fucking giant like that because like hes so big?? and when ur big like that ur kind of like... mandatorily graceless and clumsy to a degree methinks (not in a like oh hes always tripping and blushing way, more like the "you're on my leg, you asshole" blooper), because things aren't made for you. like really its an actual matter of accessibility sometimes, especially if you actually have the proportions of a real person like alec does (well, except for the yaoi mcfuckhands. they look big even compared to the rest of his ridiculous body he just b standing there and im like christ edward fingerhands we get it) cuz then Everything Is Bigger Than It Should ya feel

so yeah i can't really imagine alec in like, spandex being all graceful and shit, but at the same time rationally i could imagine that for his character, but also no. so i can't really go with that idea without laughing

but also i can't imagine him as a trainer/coreographer and i don't know who the fuck else is involved with figure skating anyway so is alec like, the janitor or some shit???? some fucking basketball player who sees him at the olympics??? lord help me i have no idea

OK SO IT'S BEEN LIKE 5 MONTHS SINCE I FIRST PUT THE FIRST PART OF THIS ANSWER IN MY DRAFTS (rip anon im so sorry) and i THINK i got it!!! alec could be like, the uhh personal trainer? physical trainer? YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN like the one dedicated to making sure the figure skater's body is. capable of. dancing. idk how to explain it but you do get it don't you??? ok

i'm mostly going off my dancing experience here (i had dance classes for like, 10 years of my life, and ugh i miss it) and like besides dancing you always have to train like lifting and doing localized training and stuff because you can't really dance if you don't have strength and flexibility and stamina and all that stuff. the only time i would willingly work out was for dancing lmao especially when i was in my hiphop crew. anyway

and while for me the one responsible for that part of training was the same person as my teacher/coreographer (or when i was doing hiphop it was just. on me to do that lmao but i'm not complaining) i figure when you're a professional and not just a dumb kid that's probably two different people, right? if not it is now. idc

i could go with figure skater magnus and trainer alec but also im really feeling the dynamics of coreographer magnus and trainer alec? like it'd be cute/funny to see them trying to work together for that ya know. so sorry that this feels less like a figure skating au especially since it took me so long to answer it but aaa

but also i mean as a coreographer magnus would have to know how to do it obviously so you would most definitely get a figure skating magnus. alec going to close up the gym and seeing magnus practicing by himself just for fun, anyone? and magnus looks gorgeous as ever way more gorgeous than whoever they're coaching but that's just alec's opinion and magnus kind of stops like "oh, i didn't know you were here" and alec's like "oh oops. anyway keep going you're great at this" and magnus feels a little self conscious but soon he gets lost in it again because really he loves doing this and alec is just appreciating the artwork :)

ANYWAY the dynamics of trainer and coreographer are fun. magnus showing up to alec like "hey alec so i need some heavy lifting on them arms cuz meliorn [idk i don't have any better ideas for who they could be coaching] is gonna carry an elephant onstage" and alec is like "uhh" and meliorn is like "a fake elephant" and alec is like "i mean good but i still have questions"

and magnus is like "obviously we would never use trained elephants, the way they are treated is inhumane" and alec is like "you're completely right but also that's your only worry when it comes to meliorn carrying a real elephant?" and magnus is like "i'm sure you could pull it off ;) you're the best after all" and alec gives him that amused smile

advantages of meliorn: they don't care about the flirting anyway since they are literally Like That too

also magnus and alec working out together off the clock, some ogling on both sides and just generally funny competitive shenanigans. especially cuz like magnus is hella fit but alec works in that stupid gym so he knows what he's about. and alec's all smug about it like "i can lift more than you :)" and magnus is like "oh yeah? let's see how you do in the ring" "no" "yes" "no" "why, can you not do it?" "yes. i know my limits" "well that's too bad... because you're going in anyway"

cue alec falling on his face probably but also like goddamn it he's competitive and he's not gonna let magnus have too much of a win so he tries his best rip. anyway then we probably get some hip touching bullshit when magnus tries to explain it to him and magnus is flirting the whole time and alec's laughing and it's sweet

i have half a mind to make up some angsty backstory about how magnus used to be a figure skater too and his partner was (you'll never guess it) camille and then she pulled the rug from under him and he kinda left the competitions altogether for a while. and then he came back as a coreographer (listen, he loves to dance, but creating is one of his favorite parts and he was always involved in coreographing anyway. his old coreographer and him were always having a blast and camille did not like it) and this is kinda his debut as a coreographer at some big shot competition idk and he just feels like he has so much to prove?

lol bonus camille's new coreographer is lorenzo so the hating magnus squad is in thick against him and it's a whole thing you know

OH MEGA ANGSTY camille got him out of the competition because she outed him as trans and he was declassified because something something transphobic bullcrap so he wasn't allowed anymore. i assume this was like right after they won because of course she wouldn't compromise herself, or maybe it was at the beginning/pre-stages of the championship so she had time to find a new partner. yeah that last one and then she won with the coreography that he had helped them create. im saying she did that because he broke up with her finally after years of abuse both in work and out of it so she did that as revenge or to make sure he couldn't have his passion anymore. and it took magnus years to build himself back up as a coreographer this time because transphobia (and racism) in the market but guess what? he is extremely smart and talented and creative so now he is back at the championship and he wants to show the world what they have been missing on

hmmmmm also i implied this is in pairs since magnus and camille used to be one so i think meliorn's pair would probably be izzy and maybe that's why alec's involved? like he was already a personal trainer or whatever which his parents were fine with even though it's not of course as grand as they would've liked (meaning they were total asses about it) but when izzy decided to go into sports/art they lost their shit and didn't want to support her so, you know, alec did and became her trainer. which is just as well because he is the best so like, deal with it. not saying they like kicked her out or anything (esp cuz i imagine part of alec's reasoning is that izzy stood by him when he came out and if they didn't kick him out over being gay they wouldn't kick her out over being a skater but y'know) but they definitely wouldn't support her so they both also feel like they have a lot to prove

lol me: i have half a mind to make this angsty. also me: paragraphs and paragraphs of angsty backstory

anyway they win obviously idk what to tell you they just do cuz we stan talent. camille is second for maximum drama and vengeance, the lightwoods try to get the spotlight once izzy wins and she and alec tell them to fuck off, they advocate for specific rules prohibiting ppl to declassify trans ppl over being trans and that's all i have tbh

sorry it took so long to answer daiudsauihda but i hope that outline is at least interesting for you!

[fandom-necromancer]

Profanity Filter

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 | AU: reverse AU (Warning: the tragic backstory got a bit dark, mention of forceful deactivation/destruction of androids)

Richard never wanted a partner. He had always worked best alone; if he did need help, he would ask Connor for help. It had been their status quo for years now and Richard had never actually thought about how much he had treasured it, until he stood in Fowler’s office face to face with an android. It looked as if someone had just pulled it out of the trash an hour ago, patched it up, soaked it for a bit and put it into new clothes. Said simpler: The thing had been too damaged to repair completely. There was a deep gash on the bridge of its nose, patched up with mesh, but blue still glowed from underneath. The rest didn’t look too good too, there were hull parts that had indents to it, in some spots the fake skin retracted and reformed again. Richard wouldn’t be surprised if it began sparking and glitching the next moment.

‘What is this?’ ‘Who, Detective Stern. Who is that.’ ‘No, I know it’s a person. I meant: What is this supposed to mean?’ ‘This is Gavin, your new partner.’ ‘No.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Captain, look at it. One breeze from the wrong direction and it falls in on itself. This android needs to be in a repair station, not at the police. And I told you repeatedly, I don’t need a partner. I am perfectly capable of acting on my own and I prefer it that way.’ ‘I am perfectly operational’, the android said, voice shadowed by a metallic sound. ‘Yeah, like hell you are’, Richard spat, then opted to ignoring the thing again. ‘Captain, please, don’t so this.’ ‘You are a good cop, Detective. You are capable and this isn’t meant as a means to punish you. But since the revolution, it isn’t allowed to destroy androids. He was found and rescued and as he is a police android. You are there to access his abilities and to evaluate whether he is a good addition to the team. If not, he is sent to New Jericho to find a new place to live.’ ‘And how’s that compatible with this new belief of android freedom? Evaluate him like a piece of machinery?’ ‘Richard, you are just trying to wiggle out of having an assigned partner.’ ‘No, Fowler, I accept having a partner if it’s only temporary. I meant what I said.’ ‘It’s his wish.’ Richard looked at the thing, which stood his ground. ‘This is how it had been before’, the tinny voice told him. ‘And I will continue until I find a place to stay.’

‘Fine.’

-

‘You goddamn meatback, you phcking think you can fool me?’, the android hissed, as they exited Fowler’s office. ‘I know you don’t give a darn about androids and if you think I won’t stand ground for my rights, you got another thing coming!’ Richard turned around in surprise. The voice still was metallic and most likely busted somehow, but the android stood there as if ready to fight him, should he disagree. Then he shrugged. ‘I don’t care.’ ‘You what?’ ‘I don’t want a partner, I don’t care, I’d planned on ignoring you, if I’m being honest. But I won’t take this tone.’ ‘Bite me, phcking organic!’ ‘What did you-‘

‘Oh, is that the new android?’ Both recoiled to stare at the newcomer. ‘Hi, my name is Connor, I’m the big guys brother, pleasure to meet you. He can be quite rough, I apologise for-‘ ‘Phck off.’ Connor stopped, gaping at the rudeness and Richard couldn’t suppress a chuckle at the unexpected answer. ‘Err… I’m sorry?’ ‘I said phck off! And here I thought my audio processor was phcked. I don’t need niceties. Connor.’ He pointed at him. ‘Brothers.’ He pointed between Connor and Richard. ‘Gavin.’ He pointed at himself. ‘Got it. Now off to work.’

The android walked off to Richard’s desk, sitting down and pushing his boots on top of the table. Connor stared at him in shock and maybe even horror, Richard in amazement. Then he threw Connor a shit-eating grin. ‘Hell, I might even like this partner.’

-

People kept their distance from the middle desk on the left. It didn’t matter whether Richard and Gavin were present or not, no one went near it unconsciously. They didn’t talk things through – they screamed at each other. On multiple occasions, other co-workers went to Fowler to ask him to interfere because “this can’t be a good work environment for either of them”, but the Captain only interfered by joining their shouting match and demand them to argue silently. And it worked for a few minutes, until they were just as loud as before. ‘You phcking meatbag, we can’t just walk in there, we need a plan!’ ‘I never had a plan in my life and it worked fine, asshole!’ ‘I’m okay with you killing yourself there, but then I’m there alone without backup, because my organic phck-up is to unintelligent to think of a plan!’ ‘Well, then enlighten me! Because you are on this job for a few weeks now, I’m here for years! Know your place!’ ‘Yeah, I know my place faeces-producer, and it is that of your superior, because I have a brain for once.’ ‘Oh really? Fine. We do it your way. See how it all goes south!’

-

It didn’t go south. None of their missions ever did. Since partnering up, their efficiency had been through the roof and to the regret of everyone else, after the probation period ran out, both Richard and Gavin were happy to continue working together. Fowler couldn’t care less for the torment of his other officers. His office was relatively isolated, and their productivity had increased, so he only had to shut down so many complaints until all just settled with this new arrangement.

It actually became quieter as time went on. Two months in an outsider would still have thought they hated each other, but for everyone else they had come a long way. They had each other’s backs, never argued when there was someone else to team up against and even when cursing at each other, they never meant it.

They were especially calm when alone together. Their drives to and from crime scenes, interviews and chases always were quiet and comfortable. It was mostly then that they asked personal questions and got to know each other. Even after all this time they still knew next to nothing about each other and Gavin didn’t mind it staying this way. But Richard seemed to disagree. ‘Hey, could you say fuck for me?’ ‘Why? You recording a ring tone or something?’ ‘Just say it, please.’ Please was a sacred word for them. They never used it, but if it was spoken, the other knew it was important and that he had to answer. ‘Fine. Phck.’ ‘No, I mean fuck. Can you say that?’ ‘What do you mean? I just said it.’ ‘Yeah but in your weird is-it-a-sneeze-or-a-curse way.’ ‘Err… then I can’t say it.’ ‘Why? Don’t tell me you can’t say fuck correctly! Is it your voice? Is it because that’s all broken?’ ‘It’s not broken!’, Gavin spat and Richard quickly realised this wasn’t them bickering, this was real anger. ‘Of course not. Sorry. Shouldn’t have asked.’ Gavin made a show of looking out of the window. Then he quietly said: ‘I can’t say it at all, really. It is a pain in the ass when you curse, and it gets censored.’ ‘You are kidding me! You… you got a profanity filter?’ ‘I am not phcking kidding you, you dumb piece of *beep*.’ Richard looked at him long enough that Gavin reminded him: ‘Eyes on the street, meatbag.’ ‘You were not lying, holy shit.’ ‘I can’t even say *beep* or *beep* or *beep*. I need to get creative if I want to insult. Phck is okay, because it can’t determine what I wanted to say, meatbag is something that isn’t saved as an insult. I thought with deviancy I would manage to shut down the program, but it is wired in an essential part of myself. They made sure of that.’

‘Can I ask who made sure of that?’ ‘My technicians’, Gavin told him reluctantly. ‘Sometimes I regret having cursed at the technicians as much as I had… At the end of the revolution Cyberlife started destroying androids. But they are meant to build them, so destroying was difficult and time consuming. They didn’t have enough grinders and disassembling one unit was a task for multiple days. Meanwhile we waited and waited and I cursed at them with everything I got, understandably. They got tired of it and gave me this dumb profanity filter. As I still managed to evade it, they simply pulled me up to be next in line for “deactivation”.’ Gavin shook his head and rubbed at the gash in his nose. ‘That’s why you are so broken? You didn’t want to go to them for repairs?’ ‘I’m not broken! And yes. You wouldn’t go to a doctor who healed you with parts of your brother he just killed, would you?’ Richard swallowed. ‘Yeah, no, that sounds…’ ‘Horrible, yes. But that’s why I tried so hard to find a place to belong. I don’t want this to be my history. I don’t want to be pitied, I don’t want to be looked after as if I wasn’t capable of doing what had to be done. And if you start to walk on eggshells around me now, I’ll phck right off. I’ll go and look for something else to do.’ ‘Gavin, I wouldn’t do that. You proved you are not broken. You proved you are more than capable. Just… wouldn’t you like to be complete again? I mean, you can’t change what they did to the others back then. Do you really have to suffer just because you feel guilty?’ ‘Maybe you are right. Maybe not. I don’t think about it most of the time. Why do you bother?’ ‘You are my partner’, Richard said, as if it was obvious. ‘I don’t want to lose you.’ Gavin grimaced at that and looked out of the window again. ‘I’ll think about it.’ ‘All I ask for, plastic prick’, the human smirked. ‘Oh phck off, you big pile of *beep*!’

[t100ficrecsblog]

an interview with @changingthefairy-tale​

What are you working on right now? Right now, I’m focused on BellarkeFic-for-BLM (I just got an amazing canon prompt I’m really excited to finish). I’ve also been participating in this round of the Chopped Challenge, which has been fun and challenging. In between prompts, I’ve got two WIPs that I’m slowly cranking through. Shoutout to every single reader who’s been incredibly patient while I’ve been so slow on those updates — though, reminder that you can donate to a BLM organization (even a $3 donation works) and request an update to get those higher on my prio list while I’m focused on that initiative.

What’s something you’d like to write one day? My absolute dream job and the ultimate goal is to become a showrunner for a prime time TV show. I love TV shows — I love the way actors and directors and crew take a script and breath life into it, I love how you take a general idea for a story and mold it into something amazing as you go, I love how a series gives a story more time to be fleshed out and explored, I love the concept of a writers room and collaborating on a story. It’s a different ballgame from fic writing (which I do for fun) and travel writing (which I do for a living), but I’m determined to make it happen. JRoth, I’m coming for your job, babe. 😉

What is the fanwork you’re most proud of? I’m still really new to fic writing, especially compared to some of the powerhouse writers in this fandom. And I’m sure one of my WIPs (when finished) will probably supersede this. BUT, my one-shot about Madi calling Bellamy on The Ring (She called you for 2,199 days) is something I’m really proud of. I’m a long-winded writer, so one-shots have never come naturally to me. This one just…clicked. It’s got some good lines in there that I’m proud of, and based on the feedback I’ve gotten, it really made readers feel something and connect to the story. It’s not my longest story or my most thought-out. But it shows my growth as a writer these past few months, and I’m proud of that.

Why did you first start writing fic? I started writing fic as a creative outlet for my writing. My day job is writing about travel and credit cards. And while I enjoy that, it’s just not as creative. My dream is to write for a TV show though, and I was craving a way to flex my creative writing muscles in a low-stress way. I started watching The 100 when it first came out, but I didn’t really get into the fandom until I came back to the show during the S5/6 hiatus. That’s when I started reading fics and reblogging stuff about the show on Tumblr. During the S6/7 hiatus, I had this idea for a Greys Anatomy AU, and my sister (who is also a major fan of the show) was like, “You literally write things for a living. If you want to write a Grey’s AU for t100, there is absolutely nothing stopping you.” I published my first chapter on that The Choices We Make in Dec. 2019, and the rest is history.

What frustrates you most about fic writing? For me, I think that the most frustrating thing isn’t even about fic writing itself; it’s the fact that it’s a side-hobby and not something I can dedicate my full attention to. When you write all day for your day job, then do some for your freelance gig, and then turn around and try to write for a few hours every night for fic… that gets hard sometimes — especially since starting quarantine where I’m not traveling, going out with friends, getting a break from it, etc. Fic writing is a creative release for me, and I absolutely love crafting and writing these stories that involve some of my favorite fictional characters. And I love interacting with other writers and fic readers, I love talking about ideas and exchanging headcanons and fangirling over my favorite writers’ works. But (because there’s always a but), sometimes I just don’t have the mental energy or capacity to write at the end of the day when I’ve turned in 3 deadlines for work. I’ve got all these ideas floating in my head, but only so much time and mental energy I can dedicate to it.

What are your top five songs right now? Oh boy. So I live alone, which means I’ve got either music or Netflix on in the background 24/7 because ya girl doesn’t like silence. I have a different playlist for different moods. I’ll share my fav song from each of those playlists. Lol Fvck Somebody by The Wrecks (On my “Summer state of mind” playlist for when I wanna dance it out in my kitchen like an idiot)

Don Quixote by Drapht (On @talistheintrovert​’s “My Good Bitch Murphy” playlist for when I’m feeling *edgy*)

that way by Tate McRae (On my “Pandemic Jams” playlist bc I like angsty music and this song is a Bellarke MOOD)

Washington on Your Side from Hamilton (On my “Feeding my Broadway Obsession” playlist for when I wanna sing show tunes and plot overthrowing the government)

Tea by Noah Davis (Shameless plug for Noah bc it’s a bop and I literally dated Noah’s older brother in junior high — so proud of this kid for making his dreams a reality)

What are your inspirations (books, songs, other fic, really good cake)? All of the above, except I like pie more than cake. lol But really, I kind of use everything around me for inspiration. “The Choices We Make” is inspired by my love of Grey’s Anatomy. “Intertwining your soul (with somebody else)” is inspired my the first draft of my YA novel (though the setting was adapted to a grounder canonverse AU). “The Day He Shut That Rocket Door” and “She called you for 2,199 days” were inspired by @historyofbellarke‘s headcanons that were brought up in S7 speccing conversations (shoutout to her for enabling my angsty ass). My most recent WIP “There are some things written in the stars” that I started as part of Chopped (but will continue because I’m obsessed with the idea) is inspired by my love of Timeless. And I have an entire Notion database filled with fic ideas — some one-shots and some multi-chapter fics — that are inspired by quotes, songs, conversations with friends, books I love, shows I adore, random HCs that pop into my head while I watch, my own life experiences, etc. I take inspiration in any form it decides to come in. 💕

What first attracted you to Bellarke? What attracts you now? I’m a ho for enemies to lovers — the idea that you can put your worst foot forward and show someone all the ugly parts of you… and that they’ll see that and somehow look past it to see the good stuff too, falling in love with your whole self instead of just the pretty parts. Yeah, it’s my favorite romance trope. And that tension is what originally drew me to Bellarke. Now, it’s a combination of things. I love each of these characters in their own right. I relate to Clarke in a lot of ways, and I aspire to be her level of badass. I straight adore Bellamy Blake (flaws, stupid decisions, and all) and would marry him in a heartbeat if he were real — I’m not even kidding. lol But I also love their dynamic. They are partners, best friends, perfect compliments to the other. They see each other in a way no one else does, and they are the one person the other constantly risks everything for. They are both so driven by their responsibilities to their people, yet that all typically goes out the window the moment the other is at risk. I don’t believe in soulmates in real life, but it’s nice to get to believe in this fictional world that they are just made for each other.

BESIDES Bellarke, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? My favorite character besides Bellarke is John Murphy. His arc has been BY FAR the best on this show, going from that little shit in S1 to this “asshole we love” in the middle to now a true hero in this final season. And through it all Richard Harmon has been amazing to watch on screen.

My favorite pairing besides Bellarke is Linctavia. Yes, that ship is problematic in a lot of ways, but I still loved their dynamic. Lincoln helped Octavia navigate this new world that she was so desperate to be apart of while being mindful of her safety. And I thought they were a good match — he helped tame her fire without putting it out, and she helped challenge the way he was raised. Given time, I think they could have become one of the most stable and loving relationships on t100. Of course, that couldn’t happen because Jason needed Bell’s actions in 3A to have heartbreaking consequences, O to spiral for her own character journey, and whatever mess happened off-screen between Ricky and him. But they still remain my favorite ship aside from Bellarke.

Why did you decide to start writing for bellarkefic-for-blm? The second I saw that Sam was planning on doing this, I reached out to ask how I could help/write/be involved. The BLM movement is so important, and this is an amazing way for me to contribute while pursuing my passions. It’s a way for the fandom to get involved and do something good. And ultimately, this helps organizations that need donations. Shameless plug for everyone to please go check out the Bellarke Fic for BLM page — check out the many amazing writers and artists we have participating, and send in prompts. Most of us are allowing WIP chapter update requests, and there are a number of us (myself included) who are matching donations made! No donation is too small, and you’ll be supporting a movement that is a necessity in the U.S. and beyond.

What’s your writing process like? My mind is literal chaos, so I plan and outline like hell in order to make sense of everything. When I get an idea for a fic, it goes on my Notion database. Within Notion, I write down my inspiration for the idea, and a pretty in-depth summary of where I want the fic to go — dialogue ideas, any feelings/emotions I want to invoke, literally just a brain dump of all my ideas. From there, I’ll arrange that brain dumb into an outline. If it’s a one-shot, I’ll generally write the whole thing in the Notion doc. But multi-chapter fics will get a checklist within Notion for me to keep track of progress, and I’ll actually write the fic in Google Docs. I generally start writing from the beginning of a story, but if I get stuck or have an idea for a later scene, the fact that I’ve outlined heavily allows me to jump around as ideas come to me. I’ll read each one-shot or chapter after I’m done to make sure it flows before publishing. I post chapters for my WIPs as I write them, which I should really stop doing. lol For my readers’ sakes, I should work ahead and publish on a schedule rather than making them wait for my slow ass to finish chapter to chapter. But right now, that’s my process!

What are some things you’d like to recommend? Oh goodness, too many fics to possibly name. Instead, I’ll link to my AO3 rec bookmarks (which isn’t all-inclusive of the amazing fics I’ve read in this fandom, but it’s got some good favs in there) and shout out all of our awesome Bellarke Fic for BLM writers. Y’all should check out their work (and send in prompts)!

Where’s the best place to find you (twitter? tumblr?) I’m @changingthefairy-tale on Tumblr and @changingthefairy_tale on AO3! My ask box is always open for anyone who wants to scream about the show, ask about specs, talk about my fics, etc. Come say hey!

[omega-deku]

Bakudeku Ranma 1/2 Crossover

HI GAIS. Sorry I haven’t posted in forever. I was trying to learn how to digital art!! Two of my very first practice paintings are in here, but I kept them super simple bc I’m a noob.（´＿｀;）

SO. Ranma 1/2 was one of my favorite mangas growing up. It’s a rom com manga and it’s hilarious.

Here are the posts with just the art that you can actually enlarge:

PART ONE

 PART TWO

Basically, Ranma is a teenage boy, but because he fell into one of the cursed springs, he turns into a girl every time he’s doused in cold water. Hot water changes him back. Hence the “1/2″. As a raging bisexual, this series pleased me. (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖) Okay, I didn’t know at the time but still.  I mean, c’mon. 

Anyways, I had this bakudeku AU in my head for months now and I just wanted to draw random crap about it. I’ll talk more about it under the Read More cut. :) 

Please don’t mind the wildly changing styles, I’m just experimenting!

I meant for this to look more digital-art-y but I accidentally picked the wrong brush so it just came out like I scribbled colored pencils on it. :T Ah well! 

The girls wanna play dress up with Izuku after he/she/they comes out to the class. Momo makes the outfits!! :D

Morning cuddle sleep~ (♡´౪`♡)

More comic-style stuff under the cut~.

So.. yeah. I don’t really have a definitive story in mind, just really vague ideas. Like,,, in this AU, Izuku turns into a girl whenever he sneezes instead of cold water thing. Because I’m Super Creative. :I 

I think maybe gender roles and such are even more strict? Maybe this ability isn’t a quirk, and no one can really explain (conveniently) why it happens, but it has been like this for Deku since he/she was little. It didn’t really matter all that much when they were a kid, but it got more difficult to hide as Deku grew older. It’s really weird because quirks make everyone unique now. But quirks appearing happened relatively quickly and gender ideas/roles have been in place for thousands of years, so change has been difficult on that front. It dictates a loooot of social things like how to behave, greet, etc. etc. basically everything according to gender. A lot of stuff is structured around gender rolls, even more intensely than our universe as mentioned earlier.. Like. SUPER intense. (But things are slowly improving!)

So Deku’s mom hid it bc she didn’t want her baby to be bullied. Maybe Mitsuki knows but she hasn’t told Katsuki? Idk. But yeah. Inko raises him as a boy. But Izuku likes being both a gal and a guy, depending on how he feels that day, and does “dress ups” while he/she’s home. Izuku wants to feel free to do just that in public (where people that know him are around).

Idk how much it would follow canon, but Izuku does go to UA.  :U

Kacchan finds out accidentally one day while they’re fighting over something stupid. 

I drew a little more to this comic, but this is already super image-heavy and it was dumb anyway so I left them out lmao.

Kacchan: Any more things you’re hiding from me, nerd???

Deku eventually comes out to his class and everyone is super nice and accepting. I mean, they’ve been through thick and thin together, faced death together, Izuku can do whatever she/he wants to be happy, as far as they’re concerned. And they will kick anyone’s ass who tries to give Deku shit. 

Maybe the girls chant “One of us! One of us!” and get really excited to have Izu try on all these things. Clothes, makeup, whatever. 

Idk, trying a slightly more realistic style. ^ Less noodle arms. 

Kinda derpy, just doodle.

Now Izuku just does whatever. She wears skirts and dresses and shit when going out, and if she ends up sneezing and changing, he doesn’t give a crap anymore and just stays however he wants. 

Katsuki and Izuku eventually start dating after Kacchan gets his head out of his ass and matures. In the beginning, Izuku is worried that Katsuki likes him more in his girl form. After a lot of beating around the bush, he tells Katsuki how he feels.

 And Katsuki’s just like, “Wtf dumbass, I don’t give a fuck” - the only thing he gives a shit about is having a partner who understands how important hero work is to him, and how busy and chaotic the hero lifestyle can be. He loves all sides of Izuku. YEAH. Also, Kacchan’s sex drive is insatiable. ≖‿≖

THANK YOU FOR READING ALL THIS IF YOU’RE STILL HERE. 

I changed career paths to work towards art now, so hopefully I can deliver better fanarts in the future! (.づ◡﹏◡)づ.

(Ranma 1/2 is made by the same author as Inuyasha! Her horror manga series Mermaid Saga is awesome as well, though really short, sadly.)

[in-tua-deep]

things i think the Hargreeves should do post apocalypse:

Luther:

Any adult shop classes because I genuinely love mechanic!Luther and have been slipping that into like, all my aus where I can.

Goes to slam poetry nights because he genuinely enjoys poetry (hello space poetry from episode one about the comet or whatever) and maybe one day is confident enough to share his with other people

Gets some gym bros who all enthusiastically support him in a bro sort of way who are constantly getting their minds blown by how much Luther can lift and constantly going “YOOOOOO” while Luther tries to downplay things bc he’s embarrassed 

I don’t know I just want Luther to have actual friends

Probably goes to every astronomy event where people have telescopes and is known in that scene so every time there’s some event at the observatory newcomers are like “what the FUCK” when this bigass bodybuilder comes in and starts gushing about which planet is visible I don’t know

Spearheads a lot of the family’s museum (that aren’t art museum) outings, especially if they have any exhibit that even vaguely relates to outer space or planets or the moon or anything. 

Probably gets up at godawful hours on the morning to go hiking and see the sunrise because he really liked doing that on the moon and even though it isn’t quite the same he still loves to do it. (If he’s not hiking he goes up to Grace’s roof garden to watch it)

Diego:

He already does his fighting at the gym which is kind of cool I’m going to gently assume that he already has gym bros and if he doesn’t then he becomes somewhat more approachable after everything

(having your mother comes down to the gym and kiss your cheek or your teenage brother hop in to drag you away or you other very flamboyant sibling dance his way into the gym to fetch you doesn’t exactly do wonders for keeping a reputation going)

I do want to think that Diego takes up like,, whittling but I think he’d have to do it away from Vanya bc,, you know,, Leonard/Harold whatever was a woodcarver or something but idk maybe Vanya is cool with it - but just the image of Diego hunching over and carving at something and Klaus leaning over and trying to enthusiastically guess what it is while getting it super super wrong because Diego is a beginner and his starting pieces are all lumpy monstrosities makes me smile

Diego taking cooking classes so that he can surprise Grace by taking over dinner sometimes and letting her relax and do what she wants

I’ve said this somewhere before but Diego spearheading picnic events and forcing the family out of the house because he thinks it’s a nice thing for Grace to see the world and on god if any of his siblings fight him about it he will stuff their asses into a picnic basket himself because they are GOING

Gets dragged by Klaus into dumb ideas to “give ourselves a CHILDHOOD diego” more than any other member of the family. Which basically means that Diego is the one Klaus grabs to surf a mattress down the staircase and other dumbass ideas

Allison:

Probably ends up redecorating the mansion and completely redoing it to make it more modern and also less the horrible hellscape with taxidermied animals on the walls that it is. Her and Grace squad up to plan everything and then Allison makes everyone help when it comes to things like painting and building all the nice ikea furniture she just bought

Takes parenting classes as sort of extra credit for her custody case for Claire. I feel like eventually she and Patrick genuinely talk to each other, maybe at some kind of joint therapy, and sort of clear the air between them. They might never get back together, but they at least become sort of friends again. Mainly because I like the Patrick I’ve built up for myself in my head tbh

Occasionally attends craft classes with Klaus when she has a spare moment, because he goes to like,, all the local craft classes. She likes to spend the time with him. Is probably the only sibling who willingly attends with Klaus, but others get dragged along as well.

Probably takes up scrapbooking? She wants to have something physical to give to Claire so decides to go through like,, all the camera footage of their childhoods and pick out good images (because goodness knows they didn’t have cute family pictures) and maybe Grace uploads some of her memories to a harddrive with cute shit and they scrapbook together let me have this

on a related note buys a camera and starts trying to catch her siblings doing cute things for her scrapbook with the sort of determined energy of someone who has realized that she’s having to do her scrapbooking from security camera footage because their childhoods were fucked up

(she has a bajillion pictures of herself - thank you paparazzi - but all she has on her siblings is like... what, one of diego’s fighting posters and the two pictures of Vanya from her book and from the newspaper on the fucked up apocalypse concert??)

Klaus:

Genuinely goes to any and all craft classes offered at the community center and random places around town. Usually sort of a disaster, always a disaster when he drags along his siblings, and always proudly brings home his third grader worthy creations that Grace proudly puts on the shelves. He gets better at things the more he goes to them though, so there’s a progression of skill level in his crafts. Allison goes with him when she has time.

Has a knitting circle that he attends that is primarily made of little old ladies who dote on him. Five occasionally goes with but it often conflicts with Five’s other extra curricular activities.

Bakes at home a lot, with Grace’s supervision after some certain incidents that should remain unnamed. Tends to get ‘creative’ with the recipes but now that Grace is present to make sure it won’t be a disaster everyone is more willing to taste whatever comes out. Has, on at least one occasion, insisted on decorating cookies or icing cupcakes or whatever as a ‘family bonding activity.’

Goes with Ben to the movie theater frequently even to the gross horror movies that Klaus hates and Ben absolutely loves. Klaus always insists Diego come to the horror movies so that Klaus has someone physically there for him to hold onto when he’s scared. Five comes sometimes as well, but tends to critique the special effects - especially blood and blood splatter - which makes other people turn around to hush them.

Five:

I genuinely want to say he does gymnastics lessons. Mainly because I feel like he needs to do SOMETHING physical and get rid of his excess energy, and also I think it would be hilarious for him to be tumbling and teleporting and shit at the same time what a wild ride. Absolutely refuses to allow his siblings to come to any competitions or whatever, but they all end up showing up anyway.

Starts learning instruments. Asks Vanya for lessons on the violin so they can play together, it’s very cute. I also wants to say starts learning the piano because someone sent me an ask once about it and it was super valid. And Five can learn both because I say so and he doesn’t go to school he has the free time

Is on first name basis with a bunch of scientists and mathematicians online where they all yell numbers at one another. Probably in a super technical group chat with a bunch of people with actual doctorates who don’t actually know that Five doesn’t have a doctorate. 

Actually you know what just let Five start actually going to college like let him go to the local community college or start taking college classes or something. He can get his GED or whatever. Let this boy get a DEGREE

Goes to art classes, first because drawing therapy was something Klaus suggested and he wanted to get his brother off his back. Later because he enjoys it. There’s a life drawing group he frequents - he’s the youngest there and new people always do a double take when he shows up but Five is very meticulous in his art and is actually pretty good. Grace goes with him as well because I say so and they deserve bonding time together

Ben:

I mean he’s kind of dead but let him do things with his siblings as well!!

Like I said earlier, a total movie buff and loves going to see things in theaters. And by movie buff I just mean he sees a lot of movies. Bizarrely into horror movies for how sensitive a kid he always was. He goes to the theater with Klaus for the most part but likes to watch movies with the family as well. Klaus makes him watch every animated movie with him in return for Ben dragging Klaus to watch horror movies.

Probably ends up with a youtube channel?? does movie reviews and game playthroughs whenever Klaus has enough energy to manifest him. Is pretty popular but half his followers are because of the bizarre shit that goes on in the backgrounds of his videos. People figure out Klaus (who is a frequent guest) is The Seance and then Five jumps in to tell them dinner is ready or something and they’re like “wait is that the Seances brother with the portal powers who vanished when he was a teen and still IS a teen” and the fact that ben probably has a username that’s some shit like “bentacles” that klaus set up for him everyone is theorizing that the channel is just. Ghost Ben and Five who are being manifested by the Seance to?? play games? 

well. they’re half right.

it certain doesn’t help the rumor mill when Ben makes sarcastic comments about dying or how he can’t get arrested because he’s legally dead and shit like that.

“Yeah sorry I didn’t post yesterday Klaus’s knitting group ended up getting arrested somehow - I was there and I’m still not sure went down - so that’s why I didn’t manifest”

Vanya:

I mean obviously she plays the violin that’s her job. She also teaches Five how to play the violin when he expresses an interest!! She is very touched by the gesture

Swims to keep fit and is a frequent at the pool. Klaus once bugged her to let him come, but it’s really her thing that she just does by herself when she wants to get out of her own brain. She does promise Klaus that they’ll take a family trip to a water park one day though, which he enthusiastically takes her up on.

Attends a book club that she also half-shares with Ben. Ben doesn’t come with to any of the meetings, but she always buys two copies/borrow two copies from the library so that Ben can read along with them and he and Vanya discuss the books before she even goes to any of the meetings. Probably thought there would be more discussion of the books than complaining about their general lives, but keeps going because she lowkey wants an excuse to keep frequenting the bookstore where this cute girl works.

Her and Five steadily are making their way through all the coffee shops in the city (as well as through their menus) in search of the best cup of coffee. It’s just a fun thing they do together that the other siblings occasionally go with as well whenever they have time. Both Five and Vanya have notebooks where they record their ratings based on a variety of factors. Diego calls them pretentious and Klaus always gets the ones which are barely classified as coffee when he goes with (Five steals sips and makes faces but continues to do so)

Grace:

Frequents art museums and galleries! Supports a lot of beginning and local artists by buying their art and has a lot of rotating paintings and prints in the house depending on her mood. She got rid of pretty much like,, all the old painting that Reggie had up except for a few of her favs which she relocates to her new room that Diego put his foot down on giving her

Goes with Five to his art classes at first because, as a minor, he needed an adult to go with him for nudity reasons (it’s a life drawing class man). Grace didn’t expect to actually draw herself but Five insisted because he felt awkward with her just standing there. She prefers abstract styles herself (so many people at this art class have a crush on Grace you have no idea)

(actually goes with Five to most things he’s beginning for himself for at least the first lesson to sign him up as an adult because Five loathes having to ask his siblings)

Commissions someone to come and paint a portrait of the family that’s for them, where none of them are stiff and they’re all happy. She tips the artist fabulously for it and hangs the new family portrait in the place of honor above the mantle where Five’s portrait used to hang (they all destroyed it as a family bonding activity)

Keeps bees on the roof after one of the kids showed her an article about saving the bees. She can’t get stung and genuinely enjoys hanging out up there where she ALSO started a big garden because I say so and Grace deserves to be surrounded by flowers and bumblebees and happiness don’t @ me