#gotta be sarcastic w myself sometimes

[shaylixie]

You changed the red? I can’t spot it😭🐬

Awhhh, nope.😭 Okay so it's one of the first things on my page (which is why I thought Lana might find it easily) but it's tiny so yeah. I'm gonna reveal this huge, amazing, showstopping thing rn!

[fairlyang]

Prank 🕷️

gwen and miles convince you to help distract Miguel so they can set up yet another prank but there's an unexpected plot twist

w/c: 4K

pairing: miguel o’hara x f!reader

tags: fluffy, no smut soz, cute, soft spot for you, completely oblivious to his feelings for you, you like him, plot twist

part one

"Hey Y/n c'mere real quick!!" Gwen yells as I walk into the cafeteria and head on over to her and Miles.

"What's up guys?" I ask and plop down next to them noticing some boxes on top of the table they were chilling by.

"We thought of a funny prank to do on Miguel....." Miles starts to say as Gwen smiles.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It was only a week since they pulled off their last prank on him, with a tiny bit of my help.... I open my eyes and look at them. "Of course you guys did," I start to say and laugh then put on a straight face, "no"

"But Y/n-" Gwen chimes in but I wasn't having it.

"NO- I'm one of the people he can barely tolerate and even now a tiny bit less so if I help again he's gonna actually be mad at me- and for all we know he might be mad as we speak!" I say and shake my head.

"He'll be more more mad at us!! You just gotta distract him for us while we set it up..." Gwen says and makes pleading eyes at me.

"I don't know...."

"Pleaseeee" she says pulling her best puppy dog eyes and nudges Miles' side to do the same.

"I am not doing the eyes-" he mutters and she nudges him again harder.

"Please Y/n- I'm doing this against my wi-" He starts to "plead" but then Gwen covers his mouth and grins at me.

I roll my eyes and shake my head, "He got so annoyed at us last time!!"

"Last time was so harmless though-" Gwen starts to say but I interrupt.

"And this one won't be??" I question and laugh.

"Not what I meant- but look this one is something nice for him-" Gwen starts to explain but I shake my head.

"You guys giving Miguel a nice prank? Miguel O'Hara?" I raise an eyebrow at Gwen then look at Miles.

"In what world-" i start to say but Gwen holds a finger up.

"We felt bad that he got upset last time so we thought we'd make it up to him..." she says slowly and I sigh.

I look at them both and roll my eyes. "Fine but you owe me." I say already regretting my decision.

"YES!!! Thank you!!!!! I promise you won't regret this!" Gwen says excitedly.

"So distract him how?" I ask raising an eyebrow.

"Well I was hoping you'd think of something....." she says and bites her lip.

"Now Gwen-"

"You literally have to do the easiest part!! I mean how hard can it be to distract him...." She says and gives Miles a look.

"I guess I have no choice but to wing it..." I reply and chuckle.

She nods and motions for me to go. "Oh you meant like NOW?" I laugh and shake my head. Crazy.

"Yes now go! We need like an hour or so, good luck!" Gwen says and waves me off.

I wave at them and walk out of the cafeteria. Sneaking one more glance at them and they're whispering and laughing while opening one of the boxes. What did I get myself into?

I sigh as I walk the halls of HQ and heading to Miguel's office. Now the thing about Miguel is he's a very sarcastic, sometimes cold, very angry man. I somehow ended up kind of befriending him by just being nice to him. It wasn't a hard thing to do, I've always been kind to those around me.

Thinking I started on the wrong foot on my first day when I bumped into him like a dumbass but he didn't care. I slowly was gaining his trust and he started opening up to me, he started letting me hang in his office, I'd bring him extra food, we'd be conversing a lot which apparently shocked the other spider people.

I didn't question it, just assumed maybe he wanted a friend, someone he can be normal with. I didn't wanna accidentally read the situation wrong so I just make sure to be there for him when I can.

Although after spending that much time with him it had played with my mind a lot and I only recently started looking at him differently. Feeling something more than what you do with friends, but still I kept it friendly and tried to push those thoughts away even though I couldn't throw the butterflies in my stomach away.

And even with last week's prank he wasn't that cold towards me, he was still civil. Somewhat...

But even then it wouldn't be odd of me to go to his office, I usually visit him anyway and he doesn't really care unless he's in a mood, though he's never exactly rude to me.... But for the sake of allll of us I hope he's chill today.

I made it outside his office and I peep through the window and he's looking at his screens. I open the door as quietly as I can only to be met with his screams at the screens. So he definitely didn't hear me.

I quietly close the door and lean against the wall. He's swiping along muttering swears in English and Spanish and I widen my eyes. Then he turns around to look me right in the eye and snarls, "You're breathing loud Y/n, what do you need?"

Before quickly turning back and muttering, "Chingdada madre-" (mother fucker)

I cover my mouth to hide my laughter and shake my head. I'm fucking breathing loud??? They owe me big time.

"Be nice Miguelito, I just came to... check up on you.." I say and walk up to him.

He turns back around to me quickly pressing a button on his watch to remove his mask, and scoffs. "Check up on me? Oh so now I need hawk eyes all over me at all times? People are always coming in and out asking if I'm okay, if I need help, and I am tired of it. Do I look like I need help?!?"

I bite my lip to keep me from laughing and give him a knowing look. He sighs and turns back to his screens. "I'm getting exasperated. Why do you do it? I'm shocked you aren't sick of coming in daily. I know you're one of the very few who is around me a lot and surprisingly always in good moods, but how do you do it?"

He turns back to face me and crosses his arms "Oye nomas quiero ser buena amiga." I say and laugh sitting on a chair in front of him. (I just wanna be a good friend)

"And I don't know maybe y'know because that's what friends do..... plus i don't like seeing that vein on your neck that looks like it's gonna pop when you're mad. It is not a pretty sight.." I say shaking my head and jokingly shiver.

"That's what friends do, huh? Well, lucky me, then." He says sarcastically making me roll my eyes before he continues.

"That vein is what makes me. So maybe if everyone could leave me be sometimes, that'd be juuuuust perfect. And it won't ever explode." He says and I cover my mouth to not laugh.

"You're acting as if you hate my company. I'm one of the only people you can tolerate." I tease and laugh again. "And not just that one, also the one on your forehead, you could see that one from a mile away on special occasions." I snicker then cover my mouth with my hand. "and hey I never have your vein like that!"

He rolls his eyes, groaning. "Oh, really, never?" He teases. "Are you sure about that?" I stick my middle finger up at him earning me a glare.

"But you're one of the only ones who don't drive me completely insane whenever I see you, that much I'll admit to." He says raising an eyebrow at me.

"Yes I'm sure because otherwise you would've kicked me out, thrown something at me, or wouldn't have let me even take a step close to you." i say with a laugh spinning on the chair. "And awww que amable eres Miggy." I tease and smile. (How nice of you)

He chuckles, and when he speaks, it sounds like he's joking and being sarcastic, "Maybe the reason why I'm so calm around you compared to everyone else, is because I'm secretly love with you, or have a crush on you." I nervously chuckle and shrug, huh?

this man is so random...

He laughs again, and then he stops, he looks more serious. "No, but seriously, you're right, you don't make me want to rip my hair out. I'm not saying we're best friends or anything... but you're at least tolerable."

"Now that would be such a plot twist." I say and let out a nervous laugh. "I'm offended you don't think we are best friends but y'know what, we could get there." I reply with a genuine smile.

"I'm actually a really good guy deep down. I'm only really harsh and nasty to the ones who deserve it." He says with a shrug. "If someone cross the line, it's not my fault for having a bad attitude, it's their fault for making it happen." He says and I shake my head.

"And hey if you haven't noticed it already, I tend to be a very, very stubborn man." He says and I bite my lip. "VERY deep down." I joke making him roll his eyes. I gasp and widen my eyes, "and noooo really? I had no idea." I say sarcastically with a little smirk on my lips making him roll his eyes.

He crosses his arms and looks away. After a few seconds, he turns back to me, and his expression is different. "Why are you here, anyways?" He asks, sounding curious rather than angry. "I know the official reason is to check up on me, but what's the unofficial reason, hm?"

I bite the inside of my cheek and shake my head. Shit. "Unofficial reason? What are you on about?" I say and chuckle. Don't panic don't panic.

"Oh, come on, I'm not that blind. You're here for more than just checking up on me." He folds his arms and has a straight face. "Well, I'm all ears, 'm waiting. Spill it."

His voice sounds like it's a mix between annoyed and teasing, but more of the second than the first. Why does he know me so well???

Then I think of the perfect excuse. "Well I was kinda hoping you would tell me... two little birdies told me to come up for some reason and wouldn't stop giggling." I say letting out a chuckle.

Not a complete lie.

He looks at me, his eyes widening slightly before he lets out a short laugh. "Those fools are up to something, aren't they?" He snickers. "And I'm assuming they didn't tell you what it was?"

"Wait- I thought you would know." I say and shake my head laughing. Thank god he bought it.

"You think I know? There's not a single fucking clue in my mind of what those little gremlins are up to at any given time. They could be pranking someone, pulling the strings behind some kind of elaborate scheme, or planning my downfall. Honestly, who knows?" He says then groans.

I burst out laughing and smile. Too bad he knows them well enough too. "Or potentially all of the above." I say and laugh when a phone rings.

I pull mine out of the pocket of my suit and it wasn't it so I look up at him. He looks back seeing his phone on his desk and shrugs. "Do not tell me they planted a phone in here somewhere to be obnoxious-" he starts to say and I feel a buzzing on the jacket I had on, I widen my eyes and gasp. There it was. HOW THE FUCK????

I take it out and scoff. Those little shits- I answer the phone and scoff. "What are you guys scheming huh?" I ask now completely confused considering I didn't even notice them slip it in.

"Come on down to the cafeteria now!!" Gwen says with a little giggle. "And with Miguel!!" She quickly says before hanging up leaving me speechless.

What the fuck.

Then I look up at Miguel and he looks at me dumbfounded. He takes a step forward and points a finger at me. "Let me find out you were lying to me-"

"I didn't even know the phone was there!!!" I say and shake my head laughing. Sneaky fuckers.

"Well we gotta go to the cafeteria so let's go." I say walking towards the door and motion for him to come.

He groans and soon follows. "If it's anything sticky or stupid-"

"You'll yell at them?" I finish and he shakes his head.

"Oh I could do much worse than just yell-" he says and the protective older sister came out.

"Miguel!!"

"What? They're beyond irritating." He says and lifts his hand up in defense with a smirk.

"They're just kids. Don't tell me you're scared of teenagers....." I tease and nudge him.

He rolls his eyes at me and we continue walking towards the cafeteria. "They're harmless pranks anyway. At least the ones they pull on me... I can imagine they might vary though..." I say and bite my lip to stop myself from laughing.

"What's the worst they've done to you?" He asks looking at me raising an eyebrow.

"I think switch up the salt for sugar. My tacos didn't deserve that treatment." I say and laugh.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes making me snicker. "Do I wanna ask?" I say looking up at him.

"I'll tell you, two days ago, esos cabrones me hecharon salsa tan caliente en mi agua, en frente de mi." He says and I smack my hand on my mouth about to burst out laughing and he gives me a glare. (Those fucks put some extremely hot hot sauce in my water in front of me)

"What do you mean in front of you??? You didn't see the color change???? Or hell- THEM? " I ask before covering my mouth again feeling my stomach hurt because I'm not letting the laughter out.

"I wish I knew how they did it, they're sneaky, quiet, like actual fucking spiders because I didn't hear them but I was just in the office and I took a sip and boom my whole face is red in seconds." He says annoyed making me widen my eyes.

"Did you swallow???!?!" I say finally bursting out of laughter and he glared harder but then looks away.

I gasp and cackle. "Estas ciego?" I ask teasingly and he growls. (Are you blind?)

"Shut up."

I lift my hands up in defense and laugh. "At least it wasn't poison." I say and snicker.

He nudges me but harder than I did it and I laugh harder. "You know what you're right, at least they didn't kill me." He says looking at me and rolled his eyes.

I giggle shaking my head as we walk into the cafeteria and I widen my eyes, my mouth falls open. Oh my fucking god.

I blink and cover my mouth suddenly feeling a flush suddenly creep onto my cheeks. They set up a fucking candlelit dinner for two in the middle of the cafeteria. Was I- was I set up????

I step closer to the table and see Miles and Gwen in waiter suits behind some decorations they set up. I look at them absolutely shocked and they just have little smirks on their faces. I then raise my eyebrows at them and look at Miguel behind me and he's holding two wine glasses with a small smile on his face. "YOURE FUCKING LYING-" I scream hiding my now flushed face and bursting out laughing.

I felt my face turn red, and I was unsure if it was from embarrassment or the fact that I didn't mind it.... I calmed myself down and just stared at everything with a shocked expression.

"Th- this was a prank on ME?" I say laughing and shaking my head.

There is no way......

He smirks and nods. I cover my face and wipe the tears that were falling out from laughing so hard. I turn to look at Gwen and Miles and shake my head. "You two owe me a HUGE favor." I say, playfully glaring at them.

They laugh and Gwen motions for me to take her arm so I grab it and she escorts me to one of the chairs making me grin while Miles just stands up there getting the bottle of wine trying to open it. I bite my lip watching him struggle a bit and Miguel turns his attention from looking at my reaction to Miles. "Oh my god- Miles give me that-"

Miles puts a hand up and waves him off to sit down. Miguel hesitantly sits down across from me but doesn't take his eyes off him. "Did you not get the corkscrew???" He growls and runs a hand over his hair looking stressed as hell.

I laugh and cover my face shaking my head. "No lo quiebres cabron-" he says standing up to grab the bottle from him. (Don't break it bitch)

Miles lets him get it and looks at Gwen who widens her eyes at him. He makes a face back and I turn to look back at Miguel who somehow popped it with his bare hands. Obviously this man is jacked but a cork???

I chuckle and shake my head. He looks back to me and smiles, sitting back down. He serves us both a glass and I happily take the glass from him, taking a sip. "So how did this come to be?" I ask curiously taking turns looking at the three of them.

"Can't say I'm shocked, about these two," I say nothing towards Miles and Gwen before turning back to look at Miguel, "how did you get involved? And why this?" I ask and cross my arms over my chest now looking at all of them.

Miles and Gwen both turn to look at Miguel, I look at him raising an eyebrow, when he speaks, "it was my idea."

"What-"

"I'm gonna be honest with you alright? But I just- I need you to hear me out." He says nervously and I nod.

He then looks over at Miles and Gwen and motions for them to leave which they do, walking over to the kitchen before Gwen gives me a sly wink when Miguel turned to look at me. I bite my lip and look back at him, his eyes looking so sincere and I was just appalled. My stomach felt like it was flipping in circles and I was getting a little nervous myself.

"Over the past few months... I've felt myself open up to you, a lot. I usually don't do that but with you it felt like I could just relax and not have to worry so much and just be myself with you." He explains and I feel my heart racing. Oh my god-

I gulp my nerves down and nod as he continues, "You give me a sense of normality and tranquility in this place and I haven't had that in a long time. You've barely been here six months and I feel like you've changed the way I view things, and how I act towards others. You've changed me for the better." He says then lets out a deep breath, his hands slightly shaking against the table.

"I- I think- no-" he stutters and then takes another deep breath and leans forward still looking deeply into my eyes. "I've grown to like you... a lot... and more than just friends."

I felt my heart race and I bite my lip to try to hide my smile from appearing so quickly. Miguel O'Hara likes me?

I was speechless, I couldn't believe the words just came out of his mouth- I didn't think he, of all people here, would think of me that way.... It made my heart flutter knowing he likes me back and suddenly it clicked, that's why he's been so open to me.

He looked at my face carefully, probably to see if he'd make me uncomfortable at all, but he continued, "so I thought this would be a... alright idea for me to uh admit this to you." He says now looking away from me as I take notice of his pink cheeks. Holy shit-

"Well I'm really glad that I was able to help you, I guess I understand why everyone was shocked when you let me in." I say and chuckle, I continue looking at him as he looked off to the side.

I take a deep breath and smile, "I like you too." I say and his face perks up.

"I've really enjoyed spending time with you, and having all kinds of conversations together. I didn't really want to assume you liked me back, I didn't wanna seem cocky or anything, or accidentally cross a line I wasn't meant to-"

He cuts my rambling off by looking up at me and reaching over to softly grab my hands, rubbing his thumb gently on my skin. I bite my lip and hold his hands back. "So let's have this be our first date, yeah?" He says softly and I nod, giving him a wide smile making him return it back.

Suddenly I hear the sounds of giggles and I didn't need my spidey senses to tell me where it came from. "Alright you guys can come in." Miguel shouts out and instantly the sounds of their footsteps are heard.

They run up to us with Gwen carrying a tray and Miles smiles at me. I smile at them both as I hear Miguel sigh, I turn to him and he gives me a soft smile. Suddenly Gwen is putting down the tray of a very clearly homemade pizza in a decent shaped heart. "Thank you madam." I say and she winks.

She set me up. She and Jess are the only ones who have known my true feelings for Miguel..... I doubt she'd told him, but that's why she knew I would be cool with this. So sneaky...

"You're a real one Gwen." I whisper to her and she mouths 'I know' as she takes a step back to stand next to Miles.

They both whisper to each other as I turn to look at Miguel and realize we were still holding hands. I couldn't help the rising heat on my face, I'd never been one to confess my feelings like that, for anyone, ever. Maybe he changed me a bit too...

I squeeze his hands making him grin and I hear the snap of a picture, or multiple actually. He closed his eyes and breathed in, "Miguel it's fine." I say and smile at Gwen who was holding up her phone.

'Send me them later' I mouth to her and she excitedly nods. "Alright thank you guys for your help-" Miguel starts but Miles cuts him off.

"Wait you're not gonna let us join you-"

"No-"

"We're kinda hungry man-"

"I don't care-"

"Malo." Miles mutters and Miguel lifted a hand up probably to throw something at him, and I reached over and intertwined our fingers together. (Bad)

He looked back at me and let out a deep breath, rubbing his thumb on my skin again. His chest was no longer heaving and his breathing was steady. "It's fine." I whisper and he sighs.

He nods and gives me a small smile, almost like a little thank you. I return it back and grin until Miles decided to speak up again, "No fucking way you calmed down the beast-"

"That's fucking it-" Miguel says and letting go of my hands to stand up and quickly stormed over to Miles who made a run for it as soon as he heard Miguel speak.

I roll my eyes and watch as Miguel began to chase after Miles all over the cafeteria. Gwen sat down across from me and looked down at the pizza, I sigh and nod. She gives me a grin and instantly takes a piece, I follow her lead and grab one as well while we watched the free entertainment in front of us.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Hi I was wondering if you could write about Billy and reader having the biggest argument in their relationship but in the middle of the argument the reader gets an anxiety attack?

Sure :)

Sorry for not posting guys, long, sad day.

Billy could really get riled up over really stupid shit.

Today it was after a long day of him getting screamed at by his father so he kindly and patiently asked me to grab him a twelve pack before he came over to my house to unload for a bit. I know that his day has been stressful, that he's had a lot on his shoulders with his dad and the expectations, but there was still apart of me that knows that I don't deserve it when he takes it out on me.

I forgot the twelve pack, long story short.

I deserved the disappointment that he feels, he did ask me one simple request and it was literally one of three things on my list for the grocery store. But he was keen on not accepting my apology and continuing to grill me after I had fallen completely silent.

His breaths are ragged as he looks down at me, hands on his hips and my hands rest in my lap, my lips tugged down in a sad frown, upset at myself because, if I would've remembered, this wouldn't have happened in the first place.

"I just don't understand how you forgot when I specifically asked you, specifically, for what I wanted." He huffs, jaw gritted and I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, pulsing and pounding as my eyes flutter shut, tears escaping my eyes, trickling down my cheeks. "Are you fucking listening to me?" He claps his hands in front of my face, my whole body jumping away from his as I stare up at him, shocked at his attitude and behavior.

He scoffs, his eyes traveling down my expression and trembling frame, a sarcastic smile taking over his lips. He shakes his head, taking a step back from me with his hands up in surrender, anger still radiating from him nonetheless.

"You're crying? Why?" He asks, his voice a bit more calm than he was just moments ago, his hands clasped in front of him as he waits for me to reply, my chest heaving in anxious breaths as he laughs once more. "C'mon, yell or some shit-"

"Because it's a 12 pack Billy! You're yelling at me and telling me how much of a fuck up I am because you couldn't stop to get your own damn beer!" I cry, gasping as the air leaves my lungs, fingers gripping at my blankets in an attempt to ground myself as my head spins. "You're such a- fuck- goddamn asshole sometimes." I choke out, leaning over as I try to not hyperventilate, consumed by the twenty minutes of yelling and trying my best to keep calm.

Silence fills the room, both of us tense and tired as can be. Billy moves after a few moments, sitting down beside me on the bed as I cry quietly. I look to him with frantic eyes, my frown easing up a bit at the sight of his sorry smile, his fingers raking through his curls before reaching for his pack of cigs.

"I'm an asshole, yeah." He sighs, pulling out a cigarette, placing it between his lips before writing it, his brows pulled together in quiet frustration. When his eyes look to me, they're sorry but also filled with an unusual amount of regret. "It's a twelve pack. Shouldn't have made a big deal." He curses under his breath before taking another hit of his drug, shaking his head in disappointment but for a completely different reason than ten minutes ago.

"You've gotta work on not making the bad things that happen to you my fault." I sniff, reaching up to wipe my eyes as he reaches over to take my hand in his, giving it a sorry squeeze. "Asshole, c'mere."

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[mlobsters]

supernatural s13e12 devil's bargain (w. eugenie ross-leming, brad buckner)

laughing that the recap shows asmodeus impersonating cas on the phone, i have such a blind spot for this plotline because i aggressively don't care - i had forgotten they did that too (i was just guessing when i mentioned it prev ep), and sometimes i think about the process for picking clips to include in the recap. like, these dumbasses forgot about the asmo!cas phone call, better remind them (it's me hi i'm the dumbass it's me)

CAS Yes. And the archangel, Michael, again the Apocalypse World version, wants to use the spell to invade and conquer our world. That’s why I met with Lucifer. DEAN So…You met … Cas, I specifically told you not to do anything stupid. CAS Well, he was weak and given the context of our imminent annihilation it didn’t seem stupid. Lucifer wanted to help fight Michael.

what's stupid is dean telling cas not to do anything stupid. i would snap at my kids for that and tell them they're being rude and mean. so i'm glad cas snapped at him, slightly, and sounded mad

SAM Oh yeah, Lucifer wanted to help, sure. CAS If he were lying I’d have known it. He was, he was scared. But Asmodeus showed up before we could finish our conversation and when we finally managed to escape Lucifer did try to kill me. DEAN Oh so much for helping.

feel like they're trying to reestablish lucifer being scary. something about being sarcastic but like, he tortured our sam for an unknown but probably very long time, they have every right to be bitchy and sarcastic at the least towards cas on news of him sorta working with lucifer for a minute

ketch and asmodeus shenanigans *eyes glaze over* ditto for lucifer having to be human

DEAN Cas, I’m sorry. All that time you were with Asmodeus, I should have known it wasn’t you. CAS No, he’s a shapeshifter. Besides, I was the one who got myself captured. DEAN Yeah, but if Sam and I knew you know we would have– CAS Yeah, I know you would have tried another long shot. I’m fine, Dean. DEAN You sure about that?

my dig at the soulless plotline, but how long did dean (AND BOBBY) go with soulless!sam before realizing something was seriously fucked up with him (i would say an UNREALISTICALLY FAR TOO LONG TIME) but if we're accepting that to be in-character, then surely brief phone calls you can't expect dean to have realized it wasn't cas -_- so apologize for making the don't do anything stupid comment instead.

ah so this is the episode with danneel in it (oh, just looked it up, didn't realize it was more than one) i knew she was an angel but didn't know when. haven't seen anything she's in, only know of her vaguely due to jackles. was very much not expecting a ... very young sounding voice. her smile reminds me a bit of kate siegel

SISTER JO Don’t be afraid. You’re whole again.

oh lord the ableism. how do you think that feels to people that have facial differences? ugh. i know that's super common and pervasive but ugh.

girlboss angel, okay, why not

mmmk. little distorted demon growl in the mix of that whole scene

DEAN Alright, I say we take dickbag back to the bunker and find out what he knows, put a bullet in him and burn his bones and flush his ashes. CAS I like that plan.

how about since you know 100% this guy isn't going to break under torture, and that torture info is bad and useless anyway - just kill him and be done with it. i know, shows gotta do this, but i'm so over everything.

SISTER JO We don’t have to rush. We can do this slowly.

really wasn't expecting the kinky angel action a la sam and ruby. i feel the logistics of the angel grace recharge that's supposedly happening here don't quite add up :p but weird sex scene with jackles's wife. that just keeps going. i get it.

KETCH I know you think I’m a monster. DEAN Because you are. KETCH But even I must draw the line somewhere. And letting Lucifer free upon the earth? Well, as it turns out, that’s my line. Not to mention the whole Michael situation. I know you want to kill me. I know you can’t forgive me but if you think about it I’m the lesser of, well, at least three evils. All I ask is that you wait to murder me until after I prove useful. Hmm?

lesser of at least three evils was funny, i'll give them that. still heavy sigh over all this

DONATELLO (screaming) It's like pulling friggin' teeth!! (calmly) I’m working my way through the ingredients. SAM Right. Okay. At least we know the spell we need is in there and we have a plan.

so does that mean sam is all hunkydory now that they have a plan? no more "in a dark place" sam? insert eyeroll

speaking of eyerolls. did they get a proof of concept from him showing he can actually make angels?

LUCIFER Hail to the king, baby.

mhm. preferred when ash said it :p

it's on the damned tip of my tongue who he's reminding of and driving me up the wall. but the cackle i cackled. ARCHANGEL BLADE. okay. why not. couldn't even come up with some random cool sounding backstory having thing like the first blade. nah. just like the angel blade, but upgraded.

gabriel? sure, why not. not like i can keep track if was supposed to be still dead or whatever. s13-15 like one long reunion tour?

[oceanmoss]

3, 14, 22, 29 💐 sahar beloved you have the cutest askbox button !! Xx

hiiii maria how r u i hope you're doing well my sweetheartttt 💛💛💛💛 and thank you ahh!!

3. do you leave the window open at night?

during summer yes!! during every other season no sadly but i wish

14. do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

YES VERY MUCH SO <333

22. what type of person are you?

ooh kinda shy but also i like to think i have enough social skills to establish at least a superficial friendship w everyone fast enough? tragically v introverted but also always trying to build meaningful relationships and show people i love that i love them in the best way i can! i get v sarcastic if i feel comfortable enough with u idk if that's a good thing tho sksjdhd. love drawing and reading and studying literature so much, dedicated kind of student but w my own set of ideals abt it? have a contradictory set of ideals in general feel like idk where to belong in that regard. also good at befriending elderly ppl LOL i love their company :-) came a long way but i get angry fast sometimes the type that blows up for dumb reasons, never big reasons tho. i keep making up emotional responsibilities and moral obligations to torture myself, also feel a religious obligation towards my family (not actually religious just really immense) i just feel like i gotta take care of them? i think that's the sahar summary B)

29. how do you like your shower water?

as hot as my skin can take like almost boiling

[edwardslostalchemy]

In the group chat I'm in with all the guys™️, andr*w t*te came up in a meme where he gets arrested. And i laughed at him and called him a loser because that's the appropriate thing to do. And one of the guys replies that that loser has a lot of money and we gotta respect the grind. And i was like, "i don't respect misogynists, no matter how much money they have." And I'm telling y'all, one of these days, they're gonna kick me out of that chat and I'll be so glad. I'd join again just to leave again. Sometimes i think I'm being a butthole, but then i remember i don't have to be a people pleaser and i can respond honestly because these people sometimes I'm like what are they talking about...respect the grind? Nah man, respect the MIND. My mental health isn't taking a hit just to be nice. I'm gonna be myself and that means I'm gonna be sarcastic when i see stupidity around me.

[theringers]

friends with benefits - charles leclerc

summary: type A planner best friend lives with no thoughts head empty best friend and they decide to start sleeping together

request: 37 , 70, 78 w charles😃

prompts: 37) “Please? I'll be good, I promise!" 70) “we’re just…friends.” “friends don’t do this type of shit!” 78) “Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.”

a/n: charles, head empty no thoughts just his hot roommate and his inability to keep things to himself

warnings: nsfw, 18+, angst kinda, friends to fuck buddies, oral sex

“Could you uhhhhh do me a favor?” You asked Charles. The fuzzy blanket was draped over both of you and he was about to press play on the movie.

His eyes rolled. “What do you need, my love?” He asked in a sarcastic tone.

“Can you maybe make some popcorn?” You tried to slow your words down a bit, for some reason thinking he would be more inclined to say yes if you asked like that.

He exhaled loudly. “Fine.” He tossed the blanket over to you so he could get up off the couch. “But only because now you’ve got that thought in my mind and I want it.”

“If doing things for yourself instead of me makes you feel better, that’s okay with me.” You smiled. This was a typical weeknight for the two of you.

You were a self proclaimed movie critic. Charles just got stuck with a self proclaimed movie critic as a roommate, but it made for some entertaining nights.

The two of you met in high school and immediately formed a bond. Everything between you two was easygoing and laid back, which he loved. He was never a huge people person or party type and neither were you.

You found peace in each other’s silent company and eventually realized you had more in common than you first thought. That following summer, you did practically everything together. Charles had a couple girlfriends here and there and you had a couple boyfriends as well, but it didn’t really matter. Nothing ever stuck.

College rolled around and you weren’t sure what to do. You wanted to stay in Monaco close to your family, but you just couldn’t live at home anymore. Lucky for you, Charles offered to let you move into his spare bedroom until you could make a decision. It had been years and you were still in that spare bedroom. The thought of moving out and doing something different hadn’t crossed your mind since the day you moved in.

“Do you want butter or no butter?” He asked from the kitchen, hands full of popcorn bags.

“Come on is that even a question?”

“Right. Butter. Lots of it.” He threw the bag into the microwave and it started to pop.

He came back with a bowl full of steaming popcorn and handed it to you.

“Be careful it’s,” he looked at you to see your mouth wide open and steam coming out, “hot.”

“Almost hotter than you,” you said once you caught your breath.

He rolled his eyes and fake laughed. “Hilarious, y/n.”

“I’m being serious.”

“C’mon, we’ve talked about this.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I think you’re hot,” you said. Every time this was brought up, he got so flustered. Which was why you continued to joke around with him and flirt with him. He would never act on it.

“Y/n…. I’m gonna go to bed if you keep this up.” He was annoyed.

“I’m sorry. Please stay? I’ll be good, I promise.” You batted your eyelashes at him.

“Fine, but you gotta stop,” he said, pulling your legs onto his lap so you could lounge more comfortably.

A rom-com was playing on the TV and the sound of munching on popcorn was filling the room.

A long distance relationship played out on the screen. Lots of phone calls, lots of phone sex, lots of jerking off to each other’s photos. You shifted in your seat, trying to seem casual and not uncomfortable.

“Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.” You stopped shifting and looked at Charles.

“So much for ‘we’ve talked about this’.” You held up air quotes. “Care to elaborate?” He was known for saying out of pocket things. Sometimes you weren’t sure if he fully thought things through before he said them.

“I mean, not really. The movie just reminded me of it.”

You couldn’t think of a response quick enough so he continued to talk. “You always say whatever’s on your mind so I thought I might try it out.”

“You don’t do that enough already?”

“I’m trying to be more honest.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes at him. “I applaud you for that. But you can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

“Don’t hate me, that’s all I’m going to say.” His hand rubbed up and down your shins that were resting on his lap.

“I could never hate you, Charles.”

“Last night when you took a shower, you left the bathroom door wide open. I was just walking back to my room from the kitchen, I didn’t mean to-”

You laughed and interrupted him. “Charles, it’s okay. That’s my fault.”

“I just glanced, I promise. But I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. And my cock was still really hard after a while.”

“You knew I was awake, you should have come to my room,” you said. It sounded good in theory but if you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t know what to do if he showed up at your bedroom door with a boner.

“We’re just friends though. Friends don’t do that type of shit.” He took a deep breath and looked off in the distance. Anything to avoid eye contact.

“Says who?” He looked at you and tilted his head in confusion. “A lot of friends do that type of shit. There’s even a word for it.”

“Have you thought about this before?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t… Charles, we’re two young twenty somethings that live together. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what it would be like if we were sleeping together.”

“I don’t mean this in a bad way but I honestly didn’t think about it until I saw you.”

“Maybe it’s just the hopeless romantic in me.” You had thought about what a perfect storyline it would make for you two to sleep together but never the reality of actually getting into bed with him. Now that made you nervous.

“More like the horny romantic”

“Very funny…” You tossed a piece of popcorn at him and he swatted it away.

“So, are we doing this thing?” He turned his attention from the TV to you.

“Tell me you didn’t just actually ask me that question.” He was blunt and never beat around the bush.

“I did, and I would like an answer, please.” You wanted to smack that stupid smile off of his face for how he was making you feel.

“What’s this thing?” He needed to spell it out.

“Are you,” he pointed to you, “going to let me,” his finger moved to himself, “inside of you?”

You burst out laughing. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. We need to set some ground rules for this.”

“Rules?” He didn’t look like he was a fan of rules. And as his roommate, you knew he wasn’t a fan of them. Just ask the groceries you’ve gone shopping for two months in a row.

“Our friendship, our cohabitation, you know. I’m not just going to let you go willy nilly on me without making sure you aren’t going to leave me friendless or homeless after.” Nothing could be done with you unless it was carefully planned. All possible outcomes had to be thought through.

“I would never leave you friendless or homeless.”

“Even if I was the worst person at sex, in the world, ever?”

“I highly doubt you’re the worst, but even if you were.”

“You’d still fuck me, even if everyone in the entire world was better than me. Damn I’m lucky.”

“Here’s a rule for you. You need to tell me how it feels. I’ll fuck you however you want to be fucked so you better tell me when something feels good.” Charles said.

“I can do that. If you like something I do, tell me. If you don’t, tell me.” You talked a big game but telling Charles how he made you feel sexually made your spine tingle, and you weren’t sure if it was anxiety or desire.

“I doubt there’s anything you can do to my body that I won’t like.” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. He was a guy after all.

“You wanna bet?” You asked, lunging at him jokingly.

“Sure, I’d like to see you try.”

“I guess I will, then.” You just needed time to plan it first.

He stood up and held out his hand for you to take. “Now that we’ve talked about it, I can’t get it off my mind.”

“You want to do this, right now?” Panic set in. This was too sudden.

“Right now,” he said, confidently. “If, that’s what you want, of course.”

“Okay.” You followed him into the hallway, bypassing your bedroom and ending up in his.

You took a few shy steps around, like you’d never been in there before. “Do you want to get on top or do you want me to?”

“Y/n…” He needed you to just relax and let go.

“Right, right, let’s just do it.” You took a step forward and he grabbed your face in his hands. Your lips moved with his, feeling soft and warm. There was only so much in your life you could plan. This was never part of it.

He slowly guided you to his bed and gently pushed you backwards. His shirt slid over his head and you admired his body, looking at him in a different light. He never took his shirt off around you with sexual intentions but this was new. And fun.

You smiled at him, both of you acknowledging what you were about to do. It made you explode inside thinking about how much you were enjoying this, letting someone else take control and letting go. You shouldn’t be enjoying this, you thought. Snap out of it.

“Before we start, is there anything you really don’t like?” He asked, reaching for the button of your denim shorts. You nodded side to side, giving him permission to pull the shorts down your legs.

He immediately pulled your thong aside and slipped a finger between your folds. He smiled feeling the wetness. “Thinking about us fucking is turning you on, isn’t it?”

“Don’t embarrass me,” you shot him a look and he understood.

“I’m not embarrassing you. It’s sexy.” He kneeled between your legs on the floor.

“Well, keep it to yourself,” you said.

“Why would I keep it to myself when I have physical proof that thinking about us is turning you on?” One of his fingers easily slid inside of you and your hips shifted as you rolled your eyes at him. “Is this okay?” He asked, concerned by your movements.

“Yes,” you said, unsure of what else to say. You didn’t want to give him any more ammo to make fun of you. You told each other everything but this was one side of you he never saw, and you didn’t think he ever would. Vulnerability at its finest, but you agreed to this.

His finger moved in and out of you and the sounds of your wet pussy made you want to cover your face and hide. He added a second and slowly curled his fingers up to hit your g-spot. A soft moan escaped your lips despite the fact that you were trying hard to keep them to yourself.

“Tell me how it feels.” He said.

“It feels,” you took a moment to breathe in, “so good.” He used his other hand to play with your clit, causing you more pleasure. You were looking at the ceiling, finding it hard to acknowledge that Charles was the one making you feel like this. If you squeezed your eyes shut hard enough, maybe this wouldn’t be something you needed to worry about.

A euphoric feeling began to build in your stomach, your legs slowly going numb in the best way possible. You continued to try and hold in your moans but when you hit your climax, everything was uncontrollable. Your body jerked and moans fell as you rode out your high.

You opened your eyes to see Charles pulling his fingers out and smiling. He made you feel that way and while you lay half naked on his bed post-orgasm, it was starting to feel okay. How much more vulnerable could you get with him than this?

He stood up and pulled his sweatpants off, his hard cock springing out of his cotton boxers. Your jaw dropped and you couldn’t help but stare as he stroked himself, preparing for you. He noticed, but ignored it, granting your request of not embarrassing you. The look he shot you was enough to know that he was aware of your stares.

“I’m only gonna say it one more time,” he said, leaning on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. “You need to tell me how it feels, or I’m going to start talking really dirty with you.”

You laughed, feeling more relaxed than before. “I almost want to keep quiet on purpose just to see that.”

He dipped his head in disappointment. “Not funny.”

“I think I’m pretty funny.”

“You are, but I want to make you feel good. I’d rather know then instead of you telling me I sucked after.”

“Okay, okay,” you obliged. He nodded and positioned himself at your entrance, slowly pushing himself inside of you.

You had to adjust to his size - his dick was nothing like his fingers. He didn’t give you much time before he started moving and you didn’t even care. He felt so good inside of you and seeing his body on top of you was putting you at ease rather than stressing you out, like you had expected it to.

His head rested in the crook of your neck, giving you perfect access to his ear. Almost like he did it on purpose, to make you more comfortable. You didn’t have to look at him in the eyes and admit how good he was making you feel. “Your dick feels so good,” you whispered in his ear and he grunted in response.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” he said into your ear, slightly nibbling on the lobe.

His hips moved rhythmically while you lifted your feet onto his back to change the angle. You couldn’t help but let more moans slip out at the feeling. “I think I’m gonna cum,” you said, quietly.

“Let go,” he said followed by a few expletives. His pelvis ground into you, creating a sensation on your clit you’ve never experienced.

You felt your second orgasm of the night build up as he continued to fuck you, keeping the same pace. You held your hands on his back and let moans fall to his ear making sure he knew how good you felt.

He pulled out of you and your body felt like deadweight. You were glued to the bed and couldn’t find the energy to get up. “How was that?” He asked. Of course he couldn’t give you a second to recover before opening his mouth.

“Great,” you smiled, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Did you finish?” You sure hadn’t felt him cum inside of you and you don’t think he wore a condominium either.

“No, but I just wanted to make sure you felt good.” He picked his sweatpants up off the floor and went to put his boxers back on before you stopped him.

“Unacceptable. I’m not going to let you jerk off thinking about me two nights in a row. Especially not after I was just naked in your bed.” Your post-orgasm confidence was showing when you dropped to your knees in front of him and took his still hard cock in your hand.

Slick juices still covered it, making it easier for you once you took him in your mouth. He was bigger than you expected, so you started swirling your tongue around the tip while your hand worked at the rest of him. “Shit,” you could hear him say.

You slowly took more of him, hollowing out your cheeks in response to his moans. His hand found the back of your head but rested there, not wanting to pressure you for more but he couldn’t resist once you fit almost all of him in your mouth.

The sounds he made caused butterflies in your stomach knowing that you were the sole reason for those sounds. His grip got tighter on you and he started to thrust into you when you felt a warm liquid shoot down your throat.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he grunted while you took every last drop. You stood up and took a step back, swiping your finger over your bottom lip.

He looked at you with the same eyes you looked at him after he finished fucking you. “So, uh,” he said. “Where do we go from here?”

You nervously looked around the room. “Should we finish the movie?”

“Great idea.”

You both put your clothes back on and sat back on the couch. “Let’s talk about that.” He never knew when to shut up, but sometimes it was for the better.

“What about it?”

“Did you like it? Should we do it again? Do you want to move out?” You laughed at his last question.

“It was really good,” you said, your thoughts wandering to just a few moments ago. You wouldn’t mind having him on top of you again. “We might as well.”

“Just one more thing,” he said. “Don’t fall in love with me.” He smiled and let out a giggle. You weren’t sure if he was being serious or not, but you laughed along too.

[stripper-patrick]

Heaven 🇫🇷Florian Munteanu

|part 1: Get You| |part 2: Heaven| |part 3: Hell|

Warnings: language, smut, nsfw

Song- Streets: Doja Cat

Tags: @rebellious-desires @mrsbanreswillseeyou @eclecticblkgirl @designerwriterchic @bvssmob

Relationship: Florian Munteanu x black plus sized reader

My alarm goes off and I happily get up getting ready for our trip to Paris. I go to the bathroom wetting my face with warm water seeing as cold water just makes me mad. I exfoliate my face and lips before moving on to brush my teeth and swish some mouthwash.

I hop in the shower scrubbing, shaving, and exfoliating my body with my warm vanilla sugar scented soap from bath and body works. I rinse off the soap and step out applying coconut oil to my damp body then applying the matching warm vanilla sugar lotion to lock in the moisture. I’m black we gotta stay hydrated and mind out business.

I put on some deodorant and face moisturizer grabbing a black bra and some burgundy rhinestone Brazilian panties. I grab the outfit laid on my nearby chair and my Nike air 270’s. I sit at my vanity doing a light makeup look and adding some Vaseline for that shine affect on my lips. I decide to tie up my long braids in a cute little bun and I see my phone buzz. I swipe right and answer Florian’s call “good morning” I smile

“Good morning” my breath physically catches in my throat at his deep raspy morning voice. “Are you ready?”

“Yes I am”

“Oh and be sure to have something nice we’re going to brunch with my family”

“Oh ok” I nod. I did pack some fancy outfits because it’s Paris who wouldn’t but I know China hasn’t met his family yet. “So do you fight tonight?”

“No tomorrow. And we’ll be staying with my parents at their house”

“We’re not staying in a hotel?”

“No” he chuckles

“Ok then”

....

I park my car on a vacant lot seeing a singular airplane and Florian sitting on the steps. I get out and my jaw is dropped to the core of the earth.

“Hey baby girl” he jogs over hugging me and I’m too in shock to even acknowledge the nickname. I pop the trunk and grab my suitcase before he takes it from me “I could’ve got it”

“For what I’m here. You look good”

“Thank you” I smile “so you own this plane?”

“Kinda me and my brother went half on it. You’ll get to meet him later” he winks. Flo takes my luggage to the flight attendants and holds my hand leading me into the spacious red leather interior of the plane.

“This is dope Flo” I say

“Thank you” we sit across from each other and the flight attendant brings us champagne in a glass.

I take a sip and I can taste how expensive it is.

“So how long will this flight be?”

“About 12 hours” I sigh as we take off.

“Well how do we pass time?” He cocks up his eyebrow Suggestively and I smile.

...

“Ok how old were you when you lost your virginity?” I ask looking over. We’ve now moved next to each other giggling from the champagne.

“15” he answers. We’re playing a game of truth or strip. It’s simple. If you don’t wanna answer your truth you have to strip. Better than truth or dare. He has taken off his socks, shirt and watch and I took off my biker shorts and socks.

“Oh” I nod “if you had to choose between me and Brad Pitt to have sex with who would it be”

“Can I choose both?” I laugh

“Nope”

“Ok I would choose you” I laugh “I don’t know Brad like that or how good he is”

“How do you know I’m good in bed?” he leans getting closer.

“Aside from the details China tells me I can tell you know how to use what you got”

“What do you mean?” He smiles.

“You know what I mean” I laugh. Deep down I want him to prove me right but that would be completely outta line.

“I need an example” all of a sudden I’m shy but not to shy to bite my tongue.

“Like your tongue you look like you know how to use it in the best way” He doesn’t say anything he just stares at me. I feel myself leaning in. He’s leaning too. Our lips attach and it was like a flame was set off in my body. I’m frozen but my lips are still moving in sync with his.

Flo’s large hand caresses thigh then bring them in my underwear rubbing slowly at my clit. I moan in his mouth and he speeds up. Out of instinct I try to close my thighs arching my back but he keeps a good grip. He slips a finger in and starts kissing my neck. I moan out but the flash of my best friends face crosses my mind and I place my hands on his shoulders and stop all movements.

“You’re with China” I say breathing heavily. He nods looking down and my clit is throbbing and so badly I want so much more but I know I’d feel the worse whether China found out or not.

“You’re right I’m sorry” he nods taking his hand out of my underwear. His fingertip is wet with my juices and I let out a puff of air holding my head in my hands. I grab my pants and we redress ourselves before sitting back down. I sigh closing my eyes getting comfortable. All I can think about is his head between my legs and him being dominant and absolutely man-handling me. I open my eyes again looking out the window at the dark night sky.

‘Something takes over me and I straddle Flo and grab his arms wrapping them around me. I grab his face kissing him and he grinds me against his hard on. He’s quick to pull off my underwear and shimmy down his pants just a little bit. The tip inserts through my walls and I-‘

“Y/N you should probably get some rest” I snap out of my thoughts and he’s just staring at me.

“Yea you’re right” he stands to grabbing two blankets from the closet. He hands me one and I give off a small smile and a thank you. I pull the heavy soft blanket over my body up to my chin before taking a deep breath that transitions me into a deep sleep.

...

I wake up just at sunrise to see Florian asleep. He looks peaceful when he’s asleep. I look out the window watching the beautiful sky. It’s painted a mix of pink purple and yellow in the cleanest way.

I smile and stand up stretching my legs and back. There’s a big window at the back of the plane and I walk back there folding my arms just looking.

I feel arms around my waist and Florian’s hand slides up my neck to my jaw bringing my lips to his. I can’t help but kiss back now. This is so wrong but it feels so right.

I turn my body taking in his embrace and his hands go down to my butt giving it a light squeeze. He stops kissing me and walks away back to his seat. I watch his eyes close and I go sitting next to him. I lay my head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around me and I lay on his chest drifting to sleep once again.

...

We are just getting off the plane in the warm climate of France. Considering it’s spring there’s a slight chill in the air making me put on a light jacket. Flo grabs our bags taking it to the car and the driver gets out. He looks like Flo honestly. Not as tall but still over 6 feet, green hazel eyes, pretty smile. The have a resemblance towards each other. Florian gives him a big hug with a laugh “how’ve you been?” The guy asks

“I’ve been good. This is Y/N. Y/N this is my brother Daniel” he opens his arms and I give him a big hug.

“Nice to meet you” he smiles

“Nice to meet you too”

“How’s China” he glances at me smiling

“She’s great” he nods

“Good well let’s not waste any time let’s go” he nods. I get in the backseat and I see a woman in the front. “Hi I’m Amelia” she introduces. Perfect skin, long legs, gorgeous blonde hair. She’s a model.

“Hi I’m Y/N” she smiles sweetly and turns around. Florian sits next to me and his brother gets in the driver seat as we pull off in the beautiful city of Paris. Or as I like to call it, Heaven.

As we go through I’m glued to the window tapping Flo’s thigh every time I see something cool like mimes, flowers, and even puppies. I notice Flo’s hand on my thigh and I want to move it so badly for the sake of just feeling bad but I can’t. This feels so good.

We arrive at the house shortly after and it’s huge to say the least. I get out and Daniel opens the trunk. I go to grab my bag and Florian smacks my hand. My jaw drops with a laugh emitting from both of us while Daniel and his wife walk by.

“I’ll get it” he says. He picks up my suitcase and his as well rolling both of them into the house. I’m still enjoying the exterior. An older gentleman comes out looking at me. I walk up to him and a huge smile spreads across his face. “Are you English?” His thick accent much like Flo’s emits through his perfect teeth.

“Close. American. I’m Y/N, Florian’s friend”

“No girlfriend?” His thick accent doesn’t stop the curiosity but still love coming from him.

“No she’s at home” I smile. He extends his arms pulling me in for a hug. He smells like teakwood and a little bit of backwoods.

“We have dinner tonight. You like goat?”

“Never tried it” I laugh. He wraps his arm around my shoulder walking me into his house “your house is beautiful”

“Thank you. Me and my wife built it when Daniel was born” he explains “from the ground up and this is one house I will never get rid of”

“I’m just in love with it” an older woman appears with broad shoulders and a disgusted look on her face staring right into my soul.

“Who this?” She asks pointing to me. I hate when people wave their fingers in my face it makes me wanna fight. But for her sake I’ll chalk it up to a culture difference.

“Diana this is Y/N Florian’s friend” his father speaks “oh my apologies my name is Emilio”

“You think you’re good enough for my son?”

“Excuse me?”

“Ma stop” Florian scolds “what the hell is wrong with you”

“I apologize she can be a handful sometimes. Which is why we’re separated” Emilio says to me. I can’t help but giggle and he shows me around more with Flo behind us.

...

I get out the steamy shower and a knock comes at my door. I open it slightly seeing its Florian dressed in a Nike tracksuit. I’m only in a towel and I smile at him. “Hey you look good” I step aside allowing him in and he shuts the door sitting on the bed.

“Thanks” he answers “you look better. I think my mom will love that” he laughs

“Funny” I smile sarcastically laughing to myself

“Y/N I’m sorry but I just can’t help myself when I’m around you. Every time even when all of us like me you and China are together I want to make you mine and I know that’s your best friend-“ I cut him off with a kiss. That’s that wrenching feeling inside of me knowing I’m going to hurt my best friend is strong. But my feelings for him are stronger. What we have built is too strong for me to just walk away.

“Let’s just have fun this weekend and we’ll see where to go from there” I reassure him. Florian slides his hand up my thigh dangerously close to my bare pussy. Before he moves any higher I push his hand away “I have to get ready”

“Alright alright” he stands up “just meet me downstairs” he kisses my head and I shut the door behind him. I sigh shaking my head ridding myself of the thought that betrays myself and my best friend the most. I go in my suitcase grabbing the short casual t-shirt dress I brought. It accentuates my curves but still is simple.

I grab some sandals sliding those on and snapping the strap to my ankle. I take one last look in the mirror before opening the door to his mother standing right in front of me. “Hi?” I respond in more of a question like tone

“Are you going to Florians fight in 2 days?” She asks

“I am” she rolls her eyes muttering something under her breath. “What was that?” I call out daring her to say it again. People, especially older people, need to realize respect isn’t given it’s earned and if you put me in a position where I have every right to disrespect you, then that’s that.

“Take your ass back on the plane and go home. My son doesn’t need you” Just then I hear Florian yell and he comes up the stairs.

“Let’s go Y/N” he grabs my hand but I yank it away too heated in the moment to understand he means good.

“Nah she wanna sit here and keep disrespecting me. I’ve had enough. Me and him aren’t-“ Florian picks me up taking me downstairs where he sets me down on my feet. His hands are still clad at my waist as I fume.

“I’m tired of her talking to me like she’s lost her gotdamn mind”

“Just don’t let her get to you. I’ll talk to her later tonight. Please” he begs. I sigh and he pulls me in for a tight hug. I take a deep breath of his cologne gathering my thoughts. I let go and walk in front of him to the kitchen earning a swat to my behind. I shake my head and we approach the table full of others. They all stare at me including his mother sitting at the end. I sit down and Flo sits next to me. The maids bring out an appetizer and it’s an orange soup. I grab my spoon taking a sip and it’s delicious.

“This is called a zuppa toscana” Emilio says “something my mother used to make me and my brothers all the time” he smiles. The family engulfs themselves in chatty conversations and I continue sipping on my soup. Flashbacks of the plane and Florian rubbing my pussy keep hitting me creating a waterfall in my panties. I can already feel their soaked through. I stretch my hand on his thigh lightly resting it there. Florian glances at me before going back to his food. I move my hand on top of his crotch rubbing lightly making a firm grip. I feel his thigh twitch and his hazel turn into a dark brown. I keep rubbing him through his pants feeling him harden. I keep rubbing until the chef comes out of the kitchen.

“The food is taking some time but it will be out shortly” the chef announces smiling.

“Perfect Y/N come with me” Florian grabs my hand dragging me with him throughout the house.

He opens the big glass door and lets me out first. I look around seeing we’ve entered a beautiful garden. “This is gorgeous” he shuts the door and grabs my hand not saying a word. Florian leads me through it to a bench in front of some flowers. I bite my lip and he wraps his hand around my throat sealing any space between us with a kiss. His hands move to my butt giving it a nice squeeze. I gasp feeling his tongue slip in my mouth. I feel dizzy and hot. I’m not sure who’s air I’m breathing anymore. He lets go and I suck in a breath of air as Florian sits on the bench. He pulls my dress off tearing off the thin fabric of my lace thong. He sits me on his lap and I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders. I grind along his hard-on as he grips the back of my neck holding me in a powerful kiss. I lift my dress up pulling my underwear to the side while he unbuckles his pants. Florian lets out a big girthy dick and I watch as it pulsates and leaked with precum.

I grab ahold of it and glide myself onto him feeling his dick expand my walls gracefully. Once I’m fully on him Florian grabs my hips digging into them guiding me to ride him. This increases my pleasure somehow.

“I’ve waited for this for so long” he moans bucking my hips faster. I bounce my ass and my acrylics glide through his short hair. My breath is caught in my throat by how fast I’m going and how big he is. My hands move to his chest and I let out that first succulent moan. Florian rolls my hips faster attaching his lips to my neck heightening my pleasure. I claw at his chest hearing his deep voice rumble in my neck “I’ve wanted this tight pussy around my cock and in my mouth since I first met you”

My moans get louder hearing his vulgarity and my legs begin shaking from the pressure building in my center. Florian holds me down with one arm and his other hand snakes up to my mouth silencing my moans. Somehow this makes this rendezvous 10x hotter. He starts pounding me out from below and the only thing you can hear is skin slapping on skin and his low grunts and moans.

“Are you gonna cum on me?” I nod furiously trying to push away from his death grip. The pounding becoming too much “uh uh take this dick”

I have no choice but to sit there and take it. My entire body tensed and I begin my convulsions while gripping on the bottom of his shirt. He takes his hand off my mouth and I instantly move to his neck where loud moans are muffled in his shirt. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” I hop off to the best of my ability and get on my knees. I grab the base of his dick jerking it hard while sucking on the tip. Before I know it warm, bitterness is brought into my mouth while he grips the edge of the bench moaning. He’s gripping so hard that his knuckles are turning white.

“That’s my girl” I milk him dry and keep sucking until he’s begging me to stop. I come off his member with a pop and smile at him. Florian grabs my throat giving me a wet sloppy nasty kiss.

“You’re so nasty” he smiles “I love it”

I pull my dress down and discard my underwear in my bra. Florian fixes himself and I see the door open. It’s the chef.

“The food is ready. I was told you might be out here since it’s your favorite spot”

“Yes thank you. Just showing her the flowers” he extends his hand and I walk in front of him. The chef leaves the door open walking away and I giggle to myself thinking of what we just did. I’m gonna beat myself up later about it.

[whenisitenoughtrees]

you've got that young blood (set it free)

“I saw them, Roman,” Virgil says simply.

It takes a long moment for Roman to understand what he means. All he can think about is the sensation of his hand, warm and soft, against his face.

But then, it clicks, and his heart begins to pound for an entirely different reason.

Of Roman, Virgil, scars, and self-worth.

(Virgil would prefer to have this conversation when Roman isn't bleeding all over the place, but beggars can't be choosers. Roman would prefer not to have this conversation at all.)

Content Warnings: blood, injury, scars, brief and non-graphic panic attack, briefly implied past self-harm

Word Count: 6,509

Pairing: Prinxiety

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

He doesn’t expect Virgil to be waiting for him.

Later, he tells himself that he would have done it differently if he knew, that he would have made an effort to stand upright, would have tried not to waver, would have downplayed his injuries as best he could. And he tells himself that he would have succeeded, too, that with his acting prowess, he would have easily been able to assure him that nothing was amiss, would have been able to allay suspicion and send him on his way if only he’d had time to prepare.

None of that matters, though, in the end. Because he doesn’t know that Virgil is there, doesn’t know that he is perched on the edge of his bed (and has been for hours, though he will only learn that later), and so when he finally stumbles through the wardrobe that connects his room to the Imagination, he allows his knees to give out, allows himself to collapse to the floor, arm pressed against the deep gash in his side. He lets a moan escape his lips, half pain and half relief, because he has made it back, has returned, if not safely, then at least in possession of all of his limbs and most of his faculties. And he is practiced in stitching his own wounds and emerging into the commons a few hours later, any pain hidden carefully behind a dazzling grin, a few more scars added to the collection he never lets anyone see.

There is no reason for this time to be any different. So at first, when he hears the choked gasp, he thinks that his mind is playing tricks on him, that the blood loss is more severe than he thought.

But then, his bedsprings creak, and there is a rush of movement, and there is someone kneeling in front of him, hands trembling, hovering over his body, afraid to touch. He blinks, forcing his vision into focus, and the black-purple blur resolves into a pale face, wide eyes, and a patched hoodie.

Virgil.

He is speaking, words flowing from his mouth like a heavy rainfall, and he tunes in with an effort.

“--ell me where it’s coming from,” he’s saying, voice rushed, frantic, scared. “Oh my fucking god that’s a lot of blood, you gotta tell me where you’re hurt so I can fix it. Can you even hear me right now? Roman? Roman, please, you gotta--”

“I hear you,” he whispers. Pushing the words past his lips at all is difficult; he doesn’t have the strength to be louder. Most of his brain has devoted itself to figuring this out, trying to solve the puzzle of why, exactly, Virgil is here, appearing in front of him like a vision from the gods. And why, exactly, his heart is beating so fast.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Virgil says, quite vehemently. “Can you-- god, can you move? Like, your arm? I need to see how bad it is. Holy shit, Roman, where did--” He cuts off, leaving Roman unsure of what he was about to ask. And he doesn’t know what to do with the rest of it, numbness creeping into his brain, so he just tries to do what Virgil has asked of him, tries to sit up straighter and remove his arm from his throbbing side. The motion sends pain bursting up through his torso, like tiny fireworks going off in his flesh, and he bites back a groan. His sleeve is slick with blood.

“Oh, god,” Virgil says. He sounds so distressed, so frightened, and Roman wants nothing more than to tell him that it’s alright, that it will be alright, that he’s taken far more damage than this and come out the other side. He just needs his first aid kit, and though he could get it himself if he concentrated, it would be easier to ask Virgil to fetch it for him before he leaves.

But the words won’t come. He stares as Virgil pulls lightly at the fabric sticking to his skin, inhaling sharply as the pain flares again. And then, Virgil looks up at him, staring into his eyes, and he wonders, were they that color before? He’s always thought that Virgil’s eyes were brown, like Thomas’ are, but this close he can tell that they’re not, that they’re a dark purple instead, and how he mistook that color for brown, he has no idea. But they’re beautiful, like fractals of thousands of the darkest amethysts, glimmering with reflected light.

Virgil reaches up, brushes some hair back from his face, his fingertips barely grazing his skin. It would be a strangely intimate gesture if not for the sharp sting it causes, and Roman remembers, ah, yes, he took a rather nasty knock on the head as well. And head wounds always seem worse than they are, he knows that, knows that the drying blood smeared across his face is not indicative of a truly serious problem. But from the way Virgil’s staring, he’s not sure that Virgil is aware of it.

“I’m okay,” he tries to say, though the words come out sounding more like, “‘M ‘kay,” and the slurring likely doesn’t inspire any confidence. But he wants Virgil to realize that he’s fine, that he can take care of himself, that he doesn’t need to stick around and take care of him out of some misplaced worry or misguided obligation. He has treated injuries far worse than this and lived to tell the tale. Or rather, to keep the tale a secret.

Virgil laughs, short and humorless. Roman doesn’t like it; it’s too dry, too bitter. “Where’s your first aid kit?” he asks, and though the fear is not gone from his voice, it is contained in a trembling undertone. He sounds determined, resolute, and Roman’s not quite sure why. But he was going to ask Virgil to get the first aid kit anyway.

“Bathroom,” he manages. “Cabinet under the sink.”

Virgil nods, and for a few moments, disappears from his line of sight. He feels oddly bereft without him there, like he’s been left in the cold, which is truly ridiculous. Virgil’s about to leave anyway. Once he retrieves the first aid kit, there’s no reason for him to stay. Roman can handle this on his own, should handle this on his own, frankly, because he’s the one who got himself injured in the first place.

But then Virgil returns, crouching in front of him, and rather than dropping the kit off and making his exit, he opens it, laying out gauze and bandages and thread for stitches.

“Can you take off your shirt?” Virgil asks. “Or do you need me to do it?” He doesn’t look up as he says it, continuing to rummage around in the kit, which leaves Roman to gape at him, because what? His mind feels slow and muddled, but he thinks that even if it didn’t, something about that request doesn’t make any sense. He spends so long trying to work through it that Virgil pauses, glancing up at him, brow furrowed.

“Roman?” he asks, more urgently.

The thing that Roman doesn’t understand is that he hasn’t left yet. That he seems to be staying. That he looks for all the world like he’s about to take care of Roman’s wounds himself.

Why is he doing that? There’s no need. Perhaps he hasn’t made that clear enough.

“I can do it,” he says, and proceeds to struggle out of his shirt, and then his undershirt. Every movement sets his body alight, but he grits his teeth and pushes through it, dropping each piece of fabric on the ground in a heap. The bloodstains are never going to come out of those, and not for the first time, he regrets designing the Imagination so that its effects linger. It would feel like cheating to do it any other way, but it’s in times like these that he wouldn’t mind a bit of cheating.

What a noble sentiment. Some prince he is.

He wrests his mind away from that line of thinking, reaching for the antiseptic that Virgil has set out. His hand closes around the bottle, but then, Virgil’s fingers land on his, and he stops short. Virgil is glaring at him, and he forgets how to breathe.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asks.

He frowns. “I told you,” he says, putting extra effort into enunciating clearly. “I can do it myself.”

There is silence for a long moment. Virgil stares at him, not saying anything at all.

Then, he does.

“What,” he grits out, “the fuck. No you can’t.”

That irritates him a bit. Dimly, it occurs to him that this might not be the time or place to have an argument, but he ignores that thought. “Yes, I can,” he says. “I do it all the time.”

For some reason, Virgil goes very, very still. His eyes flicker from Roman’s face to his chest, tracing across his abdomen with startling intensity. Under any other circumstance, this might fluster him, but he has the sneaking suspicion that there is something he’s forgetting, that Virgil is examining something he doesn’t mean to reveal. And Virgil is angry about it, Roman can tell; his eyes flare and his breaths become slow and deliberate, the same pattern he uses to avoid a panic attack, or to stop himself from lashing out.

Roman doesn’t want him to be angry with him. But he doesn’t know how to make him not be. He and Virgil have come so far from the unwavering animosity that used to lie between them, but he is well aware that his own inclinations and desires tend to exacerbate Virgil’s worries, and he has never been able to work out how to avoid that.

And yet, when Virgil speaks again, his voice is low and gentle, like he’s addressing a startled animal, and Roman might be insulted by that if it weren’t so pleasant a voice to hear. Sometimes, when the world is calm and there is nothing pressing to accomplish, he thinks he could listen to Virgil speak for hours, listen to his low rasp and unique cadence, the teasing, sarcastic tone that does things to his heart.

“Well,” Virgil says, “you’re not going to this time, okay? Lie back for me.”

He pushes Roman’s shoulder, gently lowering him to lie flat against the floor, and Roman is so startled that he lets him. He doesn’t understand this sudden softness, doesn’t understand why Virgil is insistent on doing this when he could easily do it himself, doesn’t understand why Virgil was even here to begin with. And along with the pain, exhaustion is crashing over him in waves, the last dregs of his adrenaline finally fading away. So he watches with half-lidded eyes as Virgil moves to his side, carefully rubbing a dripping washcloth-- did he conjure that? When did that happen?--  across his chest, wiping away the crusted blood. His motions are deft and sure, even as he begins to clean the wound itself, exchanging water for alcohol. Roman arches his back against the pain, gasping as lightning bolts lance through his side, but otherwise keeps as still as he can.

“Sorry,” Virgil murmurs, but doesn’t hesitate. “I’m gonna stitch it up now.”

“‘Kay,” Roman says, and despite the haze that has overtaken him, a thought occurs to him, and he lacks just enough filter to ask. “How’re you so good at this?”

Because Virgil is good at this, is clearly practiced, has done this before. He wouldn’t have expected it from someone so anxious, would have expected shaking hands and crippling indecisiveness instead. But Virgil displays only a steady, uncharacteristic confidence, and Roman doesn’t know why.

For along minute, Virgil doesn’t answer. The bite of the needle as he begins to stitch the wound shut is almost unbearable, almost sends him squirming and panting for breath. He holds himself still, but something in his face must reveal the effort it takes him, because Virgil stops, staring at him.

“Shit,” he says suddenly, loudly, and Roman jolts as he dives for the first aid kit. “Shit, shit, shit! Painkillers, I didn’t even think to--! Fuck, I am so sorry, can you--?” He holds up the bottle of Tylenol, shaking a few out into his hands, and he looks so angry with himself, so worried, that Roman can’t help but try for a reassuring smile.

“I c’n take ‘em dry,” he confirms, and does so once Virgil hands them over. “‘S okay.”

But Virgil shakes his head. “It’s not,” he says, looking at him miserably. “God, I’m so fucking sorry, I’m just…” He trails off, taking a breath. “I used to do this for Remus, sometimes,” he confesses quietly. “When he’d come back from the Imagination beat to shit. Usually it was Janus, but sometimes it was me, when Jan couldn’t be there, and painkillers do fuck-all for him, so I completely fucking forgot.” He pauses, eyes trailing over his torso once again, something like sadness in the set of his mouth. “Remus does this a lot,” he says, so softly that Roman barely hears it. “I should’ve figured that you might, too. I should’ve--”

He cuts off, and Roman is glad of it, because he has no idea what to say.

He used to avoid thinking about Remus as much as he could. These days, he thinks about him too much. There is no middle ground, and this just feels like another nail in the coffin that marks their countless similarities, another entry in the ever-growing list of reminders that he is not nearly as different from his brother as he has always pretended to be, not nearly as heroic, as noble, as good as he wants everyone else to believe.

He’s spending so much time in the Imagination, lately, and in his heart of hearts, he knows he’s trying to escape himself. What are a few more scars, easily concealed, if it means he finds a little bit of balance, a little bit of peace?

Virgil waits a few minutes before starting his ministrations again, giving the painkillers time to kick in. The needle still stings, still makes him clench his fists and bite his lip as he longs for a distraction, but the pain is dulled, now, and Virgil moves quickly and efficiently.

“Okay,” he murmurs at length. “That’s as good as that’s gonna get. I’m gonna look at your head now.”

He shifts positions, and is suddenly very, very close, filling up Roman’s field of vision. He doesn’t seem to care much about where Roman’s gaze falls, which gives him free rein to stare at him, at the determination that sets his face and the way his eyeshadow brings out the color of his eyes.

They really are lovely eyes. How has he never noticed that before?

Virgil swipes the washcloth across his face, motions gentle and firm and soothing, and Roman feels his eyelids drooping. There is something in the way Virgil is looking at him, something that Roman would almost call tenderness if he wasn’t well aware of the fact that Virgil doesn’t do tenderness, tries not to do vulnerability at all. Roman can’t throw stones; he dislikes showing vulnerability too, dislikes presenting himself as anything less than strong and brave and put together. The fact that he is in this position, showing weakness, allowing himself to be cared for, is almost more than he can stand, and he’s sure that he would be far more upset about it if he were less tired, less in pain. If it were someone else here, if it weren’t Virgil.

He’s too exhausted to examine that right now.

He doesn’t realize his eyes have slipped closed until he hears Virgil chuckle, soft and far more genuine than before, and he pries them open again. Virgil’s face is blurry, hovering just above his.

“The head wound looks a lot worse than it is,” Virgil tells him, voice distant, and if he had the energy to do so, he would respond with something along the lines of, I could’ve told you that. Because he could have, if his words would cooperate with him. “You’re gonna be okay, Princey. You can go to sleep.”

Sleep. It sounds appealing. Isn’t there something else he should do, though, something else to say? Something to say to Virgil, specifically, Virgil, who is here, taking care of him, even when there was no need, when he would have been fine doing it himself just like always.

“‘Kay,” he whispers, his eyes sliding shut again. The world seems distant now, the pain barely a blip on his radar. “‘M sorry… you had to spend so much time…”

There is a conclusion to that sentence. But he can’t find it.

Dimly, he is aware of the washcloth’s motions pausing, resting warmly on his cheek. Virgil says something, then, something that travels down a long tunnel to reach him and that sounds something like, “You have nothing to apologize for,” but that can’t be right, because he knows that’s not true. And he thinks, too, that he feels a finger graze his face, tracing a line that Virgil cannot know, because Roman has always taken such great care to hide the markings that mar his skin.

But consciousness is slipping away, and he lets it go.

-----

Roman wakes, and immediately tries to move. This ends up being a mistake; pain shoots through him, originating from his side, and it rips a whimper from his lips. His head throbs, too, and reaching up with a shaky hand reveals that there is a bandage wrapped firmly around his forehead. Further investigation shows him that there are bandages around his abdomen, too, secure and restricting, and that his chest is otherwise bare.

“Oh my god, you dumbass,” someone says, and suddenly, Virgil is there, leaning over him, hair disheveled and eyeshadow deeper than usual, and Roman cannot help but stare. “What are you doing, you’re gonna tear something open. I’m not stitching you up again, genius.”

Oh. Right. He settles back against the pillows and does his best not to react externally as the memories come rushing back. Practically falling out of his own wardrobe, letting Virgil take care of him, making a fool of himself in general. Fantastic.

“Right,” he says, and winces at the hoarseness of his voice. “Sorry about that. How long have I been asleep?”

Virgil sighs, perching next to him on the edge of the bed. “Not too long,” he says. “A few hours. You could probably do with some more.”

Oh, absolutely not. A few hours is more than enough time to be well on the way to recovery, or at least, enough time to seem as if he is. Though, he supposes it doesn’t matter. Surely, the whole mindscape knows about this by now. Surely, Virgil’s told Patton and Logan, or at least answered their questions if they asked what he’s been doing. He’s surprised they’re not in here, Logan ready with a lecture and Patton full of guilt, guilt that is entirely undeserved, since all of this is Roman’s own fault.

Some of his thoughts must show on his face, because Virgil shifts his weight, glancing away.

“I told the others that I was helping you with a project,” he says, casually, as if he’s not upending Roman’s entire worldview, as if Roman doesn’t know full well that Virgil absolutely hates lying. “I think they bought it, so, uh. Janus might know something’s up, but he probably knows anyway, since you’ve been lying to us about it for so long.”

Roman’s stomach drops into his shoes. There is no bite to Virgil’s words, but  it must be there, because Virgil must be angry at the deception. He didn’t plan to ever reveal the truth; he didn’t want to worry them, and more than that, he didn’t want them to know how weak he truly is, how imperfect. Though that’s another thing that they’re surely well-versed in by now, so he’s not sure why he bothers.

“Sorry,” he mutters, and Virgil frowns.

“I didn’t mean it like--” He stops, shaking his head, and takes a few steadying breaths. Four-seven-eight. “Okay. I’m kinda scared shitless of having this conversation, but it clearly needs to happen, so. How long has this been going on?”

He’d hoped that Virgil would let it go. That Virgil’s tendency toward conflict avoidance would guide him away from asking any of the difficult questions. He should have remembered that only half of Virgil is flight, that he is just as capable of fight, of raising his voice and demanding his answers, that Virgil’s brand of courage is odd but no less present for that.

“What do you mean?” he asks weakly, and even as he says the words, he knows that the avoidance tactic won’t work. Not here, not now, and wouldn’t have even if he didn’t sound like he’s on death’s door.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Virgil says. He gestures, and then crosses his arms. “You. This. Getting hurt, and not telling us about it. Not letting us help.”

He chews on that for a moment, on the idea that helping would be a thing that they would want to do. Surely, there are better uses for their time? This is another reason why he made sure to hide it; if they knew, they would feel obligated to come to his aid, just as Virgil has. Perhaps it’s selfish, but he doesn’t want that, doesn’t want them to help him because they’ve fooled themselves into thinking they have to.

He clears his throat. “Not terribly often,” he says, and hopes that the lie isn’t powerful enough, isn’t loud enough to draw Deceit’s attention. “And even when it does, it’s nothing I can’t handle, really. I’m quite capable of patching myself up, you know.” He pauses. “I’m sorry I roped you into doing it.”

Virgil exhales sharply. “Roped me-- okay. Alright, that’s bullshit. You didn’t rope me into taking care of you, I did it because I was fucking worried about you.”

“I didn’t want to upset--”

“If you’re about to tell me you didn’t want to upset me, I swear to god, I will scream.” Roman dutifully shuts his mouth. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on in your head right now, but you didn’t force me into helping you. I did that because I... I fucking care about you, alright? And I don’t want you to be hurt.” Throughout the speech, Virgil’s face grows steadily redder under his foundation, his knees beginning to bounce up and down like pogo sticks. He looks very much like he would like to run from the room, and perhaps it is a sign of how important he considers this to be that he doesn’t.

Roman stares, trying to process that. He has no idea how to respond.

Virgil takes another breath, visibly calming himself. “Look, I… this isn’t even what I wanted to talk about.” He meets Roman’s eyes, regarding him steadily. “I know you’re lying. About it not happening often. It happens a lot, doesn’t it?”

“How do you--” He breaks off, his mind racing in an effort to figure out how Virgil could possibly know that. This is the first time he’s been caught, after all, not just by Virgil but by anyone, and one time does not a pattern make. He shouldn’t be able to guess, shouldn’t be able to say it with such stark certainty, not unless he already had a low opinion of his fighting prowess, and that burns in a way he would like to not scrutinize too closely--

“Roman.”

Virgil’s voice breaks him out of his reverie, and he glances over. Virgil is staring at him, an odd expression on his face, somewhere between resignation and sorrow, and for a split second, Roman is almost overwhelmed by the urge to try to smooth that expression away, to do anything to put a smile on his face. Virgil’s smiles are rare, but that makes them all the more precious.

“You don’t even know that you’re doing it, do you,” Virgil says. “It comes naturally. You don’t even think about it.”

He blinks, because what? What is he talking about?

And then, Virgil reaches out to caress his face, and his brain bluescreens.

It’s a caress. There’s no other way to describe it, no other way to label the way his fingers lightly stroke his skin and hold his cheek. His face feels as though it has been set aflame, sparks going off wherever contact is made. He wants Virgil to stop. He wants to bury his face in his pillow for the rest of time and scream. He wants Virgil to keep holding him forever.

“I saw them, Roman,” Virgil says simply.

It takes a long moment for Roman to understand what he means. All he can think about is the sensation of his hand, warm and soft, against his face.

But then, it clicks, and his heart begins to pound for an entirely different reason. He remembers it, then, remembers the way Virgil looked at his chest, at his face while he was treating him. He didn’t have the awareness to realize it then, but he does now, realizes exactly what Virgil saw, what he put together, and his breaths come short and quick as the implications catch up to him.

Virgil is right. He doesn’t think about it. Doesn’t think about the multitude of scars that cover his body, a patchwork of lines and grooves and valleys marring his skin, years and years of injuries piling up and tearing him apart, memories of blood and pain traced into him forever. He doesn’t think about it, because usually, they are out of sight, out of mind; from the moment he received his first, he began the habit of shapeshifting them away, showing off skin that is flawless, unblemished by his failures. He does it all the time, unceasing, because presentation is everything and he has never wanted the others to know, never wanted them to see him as he truly is. It is a constant expenditure of energy, but one well worth it, one that he barely notices after all these years.

Injured and weak as he was, the disguise must have slipped away. He must have fallen to his knees, scars on full display, in all their messy, ugly glory. And of course, Virgil saw.

And now, Virgil knows.

“Hey, hey,” Virgil says, and he can barely hear him over the roaring in his ears. “C’mon, Roman, you’re okay, you’re gonna be okay. Try to match my breathing, alright?”

And Virgil breathes, in and out, loud and intentional, and counts. Four-seven-eight. It takes a while for Roman to copy him, for his breathing to steady and his heart to slow, and once it does, he feels exhausted, wrung out, like bubblegum stretched too thin.

“Sorry,” he mutters. He can’t find it in himself to meet Virgil’s eyes.

“I told you, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” Virgil says seriously. He pauses. “Except for scaring the shit out of me, but um. We can do that later, so just. Look, when you first got back, you were covered in them, and I wanted to ask then, but it wasn’t the time. And then you shifted them away literally while you were sleeping, which I didn’t even know was possible, but I guess you’re used to doing it? So I guess what I actually wanted to ask is, why’ve you been hiding them?”

He stiffens, and can’t stop the incredulous laugh from bursting from his lips, even as his mind reels with this new information. “Are you serious?” he asks, and forces himself to meet Virgil’s gaze, even though he would like nothing more than to hide his face, hide away under his covers until all of this goes away and he can pretend that things are normal again. “You can’t figure that out?”

But Virgil doesn’t react. “Pretend I’m stupid,” he offers, voice flat. “Walk me through it.”

“I--” He wishes he could gesture, redirect attention with waving arms and comical expressions. But every movement sends bolts of pain down his side, sets his head to throbbing again. “Really? You-- you saw them.” His voice cracks, and he tries not to let it get to him. What’s a little more humiliation at this point, right?

“So?” Virgil asks.

He can’t believe he’s going to have to explain this.

“So?” he repeats. “So? So they’re ugly! So they’re… they’re just reminders of every time I’ve failed, every time I’ve been dumb enough to let myself get hurt! So I don’t like them, and I don’t… I didn’t want--”

“You didn’t want us to see,” Virgil finishes, and really, he has no right being this astute, no right to see through him like this. His gaze is level, piercing, pinning him to the spot with its sheer intensity, and Roman feels entirely too exposed. “Well, I want to see.”

He becomes very aware that Virgil is still holding his face.

“You what?” he rasps.

“I want to see them,” Virgil repeats. “Will you let me see them?”

His first instinct is to deny him, to push him away and proceed to act like this conversation never occurred in the first place. He knows exactly how they look, knows exactly how unappealing they are; how long has he stood in front of the mirror, glaring at a reflection that is never up to his standards? And for some reason, the thought of Virgil of all people looking at them, judging them, judging him and finding him wanting, is absolutely unbearable. He thinks he would die if that happened, thinks he would shatter into a million pieces on the floor, break apart into so much dust.

But Virgil is asking. Asking, not demanding, and there is no disgust in his voice.

And he’s seen them. So really, what harm could be done that has not been done already?

Virgil is likely to keep pushing if he refuses. And Roman is so tired.

“Okay,” he says, and he shuts his eyes, and drops his shifted form. It feels like a layer of water sliding from his skin, or like an eggshell cracking open and revealing the messy yolk beneath. For a long moment, there is silence, heavy and oppressive, and he doesn’t dare open his eyes to look, doesn’t dare see the expression on Virgil’s face, the horror, the disdain, or worse, the pity.

And then, Virgil’s hand moves, lightly tracing across his face in patterns that are all too familiar. He can’t move, can’t breathe. He knows all too well the scars that he is counting: the slashes across his cheeks from too many careless swords, the line cutting through his lips from a harpy that tried to claw his face off, and the biggest of all, the slash from a dragon’s talons, a deep gash that begins on his forehead and trails across his nose, reaching all the way to his jawline, narrowly avoiding his eyes. Virgil’s fingers linger there longest of all.

And then, he pulls away. Roman braces himself.

“You think you’re the only one with scars?”

His eyes shoot open.

“What?”

Virgil is watching him, an odd light in his eyes. He’s rubbing his arm with one hand, up and down, a repetitive, subconscious motion.

“Look,” he says, and his voice is shaking now, just ever so slightly. “I get it. More than you might think. You have these scars, and you think they mean that you fucked up, or that you failed at something, and... Maybe. Fuck, I don’t know. But you know what else they are?”

Roman can’t speak. Virgil continues, not waiting for an answer.

“They mean that you’re still alive,” he says. “It means that you’re still here, that you survived, and that you kept going. That doesn’t make you a failure, it makes you strong. And I’m not gonna tell you that you have to think that they’re beautiful, or some shit like that, but they’re not ugly, they’re not gross, and they don’t make you worthless.”

His breath hitches. Tears pool in his eyes, and he is powerless to dispel them.

“It took me a really long time to learn that,” Virgil says. “They’re a part of you, and you don’t have to feel lesser for that. And you don’t have to hide them, not if you don’t want to. No one’s going to judge you for them.” He pauses, a strange look passing across his face. “And that’s coming from me, so, uh. You know. If the literal personification of anxiety is telling you that you don’t need to worry about it. Maybe you shouldn’t.”

Roman laughs a little, despite himself, more out of disbelief than anything else.

“You really think it’s that simple?” he asks, and hopes that Virgil doesn’t take it the wrong way.

“I know it’s not that simple,” Virgil returns. “I know how hard it is to change how you think about yourself. I mean, god, Roman, you know who you’re talking to, right? I’m kind of the king of negativity. But you’re not on your own on this.” He shifts, scooting a bit closer. “If you ask us for help, we’d do anything for you, but that’s not because we think we have to. It’s because we love you. And you deserve that love. Never think that you don’t. Scars or no scars.”

Roman shudders, emotions rolling through him with the force of a thousand rushing rivers.

“And I think, I mean--” Virgil stops. “Your-- fuck. Just, for the record, I--” He sucks in a breath, turning away sharply. “Fuck,” he says again, as if to himself, and then, in one smooth motion, he turns back to Roman, places both hands on the side of his face, and plants a kiss on his cheek, right over one of his scars. It’s like a thousand volts of energy, like a fire burning just beneath his skin, like a symphony crescendoing to its climax. Roman gasps, and Virgil pulls back, and Roman is absolutely certain that his face is melting off right now, that the warmth flooding his face and body is searing the flesh from his bones.

Virgil stares at him, face red. And then, to Roman’s shock, he does it again, on his nose, right where the biggest scar crosses his face. Slower, this time, his lips lingering for a heartbeat too long, giving Roman the chance to think about how soft they are, how much he would like them to be on his lips instead.

Well, that’s… huh. Part of him knew that already, has known for a very long time that he wants this, but the confirmation has his brain buzzing.

“I think they’re hot,” Virgil says, just above a mumble.

“You what?” Roman says, even though he’s fairly sure he didn’t mishear, even though hope, bright and warm and traitorous, is rising in his chest like a bird taking wing. He has never loved his scars, has never thought of them as attractive at all, and never so much as considered the possibility that someone else might disagree.

But Virgil doesn’t lie. Wouldn’t lie, not about this. It is a miracle that Virgil is acting this way at all, is behaving in a manner that clearly puts him far outside his comfort zone.

“Don’t make me say it again,” Virgil snaps, and there is the Virgil that Roman is most familiar with, hackles raised and spitting insults. Despite everything that’s happened, despite the fact that his mind is spinning and he still feels entirely too hot, he smiles. “Fuck, I’m just gonna go die in a hole now. See if I do anything for you ever again.”

He moves as if to stand from the bed, as if to leave, and though hours ago he wanted him to do that very thing, Roman feels a flash of panic at the prospect. Before he can think better of it, his hand snakes out and latches on to the sleeve of Virgil’s hoodie, stopping him in his tracks. For a moment, they stare at each other, both silent, almost expectant as Roman casts about for something to say, something to keep Virgil here.

“I have a scar on my lips,” he blurts out. “You, uh, wanna… do… something?”

He congratulates himself on his smoothness. He should give up being Thomas’ creativity and open up a smoothie place, that’s how smooth he is.

Virgil glares. “If you’re just gonna make fun of me, you can fuck right off and--”

“What? No,” he says. “I’m not-- what made you think I was making fun of you? I’m asking you to kiss me!”

Virgil stares, silent. He feels himself begin to waver.

“If… uh, just if you want to, I guess,” he says, voice weakening. “I just thought that maybe…”

“You’re an idiot,” Virgil declares, and captures his lips with his own.

A far as declarations of love go, it’s not the best Roman has ever heard. But as far as kisses, well.

“Don’t think this gets you out of talking about this,” Virgil murmurs, pulling back a centimeter or two. “I’m gonna sic Patton on you. You’re gonna get so much love and emotional support, and so many cookies, and you’re not gonna escape until we get it into your dumbass head that you’re worth so much more than you think you are.”

Even moments ago, the thought would have filled him with horror, horror at the prospect of anyone else knowing, anyone else seeing, anyone else wanting to talk to him about it. And maybe this is only a respite, a brief moment of insanity before that horror returns. And it’s not just the scars. Perhaps it’s never been about the scars, not really.

But right now, his head is buzzing with Virgil’s words, his lips still alight with the imprint of his kiss, and his scars are bared and Virgil likes them, thinks they make him strong, thinks that he’s not a failure at all. And most of him rejects that, suspects that in time, Virgil will come to see the ugly truth, and if that is the case, he should pull back now, save both of them the trouble.

Virgil won’t allow that, though; if he knows anything about Virgil, it is that he is stubborn, incredibly so, enough to be a match for him. And there is a voice, buried deep in his brain, telling him that he should listen, that Virgil is right, and that he deserves this. He doesn’t make a habit of listening to that voice.

But perhaps he should. And Virgil smiles at him, just slightly, and he thinks that perhaps he can.

“Cookies,” he repeats. “Sounds good.” And to his surprise, finds that he means it.

Writing Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii

[dramarising-replacement]

The sequel to: Literally nobody asked for this and I'm doing it anyways This time as an update!

Why wouldn’t you be able to sell it? Some people like making money OP -yes, but that market would be too easy for rich players to exploit, so it's a no. while it could help so that newer players that get a good egg could possibly sell it for even more if the colors are matchy, i cant really think of a way to prevent it from just adding to gen1 only lairs with 1000 gems at all times.

I think this was supposed to be a joke or something. -somewhat! i know it would never happen, as it's complete bullshit that comes out of nowhere, but it was a semi-serious exercise in how to introduce mechanics to pre existing games. but yeah, mainly a joke, cause it's never actually going to happen, and i also dont really want it to.

Breeding eggs… What?- OP, tell me what u took last night -ambien, if i remember right. sure, technically i shouldnt have it, but parents know best amiright?

and yeah take nothing i have done seriously, assume i am either high or out of my mind.

why do people make overly long and elaborate site suggestions on FR drama sites and not, you know, on FR’s actual fucking suggestions forum -bc this is not an actual suggestion, its a fake one meant to have fun and maybe piss people off. i did not make that very clear in my post, sorry about that.

What a long way to say “I hate snobs”. -sounds like me! :)

The absolute irony of crying about G1 people being snobby while trying to make a dragon special by creating a subspecies is chefs kiss delicious. Nothing wrong with subspecies just that OP is talking out they ass. -i meant like. for lore reasons? yall make subspecies for pricing reasons? damn. i might have to change a few forum threads to lore-specific rq

I dont get why people gotta be so rude and downplay people’s disappointment:/ -im funny like that. and also a vindictive dick. but let's stick with funny.

Hey.. uh wasn’t A___ a regular normal user who had that luck cult form around them because they were pretty lucky their first week? They’re not just some ‘fanon luck god’. This should’ve been censored. :/ -shit, my bad. thank you for telling me! (this sounds sarcastic, but seriously, thank you.)

so this anon should support a way to make any dragon a G1 then, I mean I’d respect them if they did -thank you for the inspiration!

what about that egg i got from the coli and hatched myself on my birthday and it was a neat primal -you got a primal on your birthday from rng? congrats, that's really awesome! i wouldnt really say that other people getting primals now cheapens it, having a special day primal myself, but we're different people and all. congratulations on your special hatch!

do you guys have anything better to do lmfao -nope! rip me ig, but then again i'm a teenager w/ no job in a terrifying pandemic and maybe some people i know are dead of plague, which is a rather common experience now, so sometimes you gotta make long posts laughing over dragon games. it's fun and totally not unhealthy!

[slutforagoodsmut]

We All Get Nightmares

(Lars x OC)

The waves crashed along the sand, the moonlight glittered  across the sea. For once in a long time, there was silence, There was peace. No gem saving, no gem destroying. It was a quiet, normal night; and for once in a long time, Primrose went to bed without a sore body or broken bone. Curled up in the bed layed the precious girl, her dark locks of springs for hair bunched up in a ponytail, and the one streak of light pink laying lightly against her face. Her soft warm touch, her skin glowing in the moonlight that beamed through her window. Her pencil striaght physique now starting to blossom from child to young  woman, her hips starting to curve out and chest starting to broaden. And on her back, in between her shoulder blades, sat a rose quarts gem that reflected off of any twinkling light, which she kept hidden beneath her hair. Primrose Universe was indeed a beauty, just like her mother was. 

There she layed all snuggled up in her plush bed on the other side of the room, a small smile graced upon her lips as she clung to the teddy bear her father gave her all those years ago. She just looked like some ordinary 14 year old girl, a girl who wanted to go far in life, go beyond the limits as any teenager would. The Primrose everyone knows, the girl everyone cherishes, was much more than a silly little teenager. She was a gaurdian, a powerful protector of the gems; keeping the bad out. The twin sister of a powerful boy and the daughter of a gem herself.

But aside all that schmazzy jazzy stuff, Prim was just your avgerage teenager. A girl who listened to her father's old music and laughed at the silly faces he made. A girl who enjoyed her friend's company and eating doughnuts. Someone who loved adventure and would sometimes get in a lil trouble along with her brother. An open minded person who accepted anyone as a friend. That is who Primrose was. 

It wasn't far into the night when Prim's phone began to buzz on her nightstand. Prim, being the light sleeper she was, woke immediately, her eyes being blinded by the light the phone gave off. She groaned. "Who's calling in the middle of the night?" She fumbled for the phone and pressed the 'accept call' button, holding it lazily to her ear. "Yo," she said.

"Prim, are you awake?" A certain Lars Barriga voice came through the phone. Prim rolled her eyes and sank her head back into her pillow. 

"Oh yeah sure, totally awake, like i always am..." she peered over at her clock, "...at 2:30 in the morning," she said sarcastically. 

"I know it's late but I just couldn't sleep! Maybe you could come over for a bit?" Lars asked, his voiced getting a bit high. "Ya'know, help me fall asleep?"

"You've gotta be kidding me Lars," she sighed, her hand sliding down her face. "Dude, you're like almost 17 years old, can't you tuck yourself in? I mean, haven't you tried calling Sadie?" Prim yawned out as she spoke, covering her mouth.  

"Yes I could tuck myself in, thank you very much!" Lars hissed. "I just...I had a bad dream and now I can't sleep," he mumbled into the phone. "P-Please?"

Primrose looked back at the clock, then sat up and looked at Steven, who was sleeping soundlessly all the way on the other side of the loft. It'd be easy getting passed her brother, but what about the gems? Nothing could get passed them, and I mean nothing. She put a hand on her head and sighed again. "Fine, I'll be there in 15 minutes."

"thanks Prim, you're the best!" Lars said into the phone. 

"I know I am," she grunted as she sat up, stretching her legs and arms. "Oh and Lars?"

"Yes?" 

"You owe me." Was the last thing she said to him before ending the call. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. 'I swear to god if this is a joke...' Prim yawned again as she put her hair up in a messy bun, not bothering to do anything with it at the moment. She didn't bother changing either, and not that it was a big deal anways. Prim was wearing a pair of shorts and tank top, all she needed to do was throw on a bra and head out. Prim walked passed her brother and got her flip flops on, kissing him on the cheek before climbing down the loft. 'Was it cold out?' she wondered, before grabbing a sweatshirt just in case. Now here was the difficut part; getting passed Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl. Pearl was a nutjob when it came to safety, and on the other hand Amethyst could care less, so she would be easy to get by. But then there was Garnet. Garnet was a tricky one, and probably the sneakiest and wisest off them all. 

"Alright one step at a time..." Prim whispered as she tip toed silently across the floor boards. Amethyst was snoring on the couch and Pearl was curled up in a ball, but where was Garnet? They should have been in the temple, so this was going to be a little harder than usual. Prim looked around. Uh oh, this wasn't good. Garnet must be in the temple, right? No harm at all! She lightly stepped around carefully, making sure not to step on a squeaky floorboard by mistake. 'Just an hour!' Thought Prim 'and I'll be back before sun rise!' 

It took a few minutes but Primrose managed to slip out of the house quickly and quietly. "Phew, that was close," Prim  said feeling a bit exhausted.

"What was close?" A voice asked.

She gasped, holding her breath as she clasped a hand over her mouth tightly. "Oh Bejeebus!" Prim slowly turned around to see the giant gem standing over her with her arms crossed, no emotions expressed over her face. It wasn't that she was terrified of Garnet...well....maybe just a tad, it was the fact that Garnet was always right, and to see Garnet dissaprove her actions was one of Prim's biggest fears. 

"Where must you be so late at night?" Garnet asked. 

"W-Well, I--uh, ya see, something--um c-came up! Yeah that's right, something came up and...." Prim faltered, looking down. Garnet raised a brow behind her glasses, putting a hand on Prim's shoulder. She looked up at the gem and sighed, rubbing the side of her arm. "Lars called me..."

"Lars?" 

"Oh! I meant Big Donut Boy!" Prim corrected herself. 

"And what does "Big Donut Boy" want with you at this hour of the night?"

"Its sort of embarrassing but...he had a nightmare. And he called me cuz he couldn't go back to sleep." 

"A nightmare, huh?" Garnet repeated, putting her hands on her hips. "Well, if you must. This does sound important."

"Yeah I know Garnet I shouldn't leave without--wait what?" Prim stopped herself with wide eyes, looking up at Garnet like an idiot. "Really?"

"Yes, you may go, but don't tell Pearl."

Prim blinked, raising a brow. "Are you an imposter Garnet? Shouldn't you be giving me words of wisdom or something and telling me not to go?"

Garnet cracked a small smile and ruffled Prim's bed head. "Geez Prim, you make it sound like I'm another Pearl." Prom laughed at that. "But yes, I trust you. Just be back before Pearl notices."

"You got it Garnet!" They young girl whispered and gave the gem a quick hug before running down the steps. 

*10 minutes Later*

The temple was only a few blocks away from Waterman St., so a walk to Lars's house was a piece of cake for Prim. Her sweatshirt was tied around her neck to keep her shoulders warm and hands tucked in her pockets with her phone. Like she expected, it was a little chilly, but nothing Prim couldn't manage. Matter a fact she loved the chilly weather, and sadly it was something Beach City hardly ever got. 

In the distance Prim could see Lars sitting on the steps of his porch, resting his head on his lap. 'Oh man, maybe this really is serious,' she thought as she got closer. He looked miserable, but what was different? He always looked miserable, especially around Prim and Steven. Yes Prim knew Steven could be a bit annoying, but so was she at times! They both had many flaws and messed up--a lot--but hey that's what twins did together! It was both of them or none at all! 

"Hey," Prim said, stopping in front of the Barriga Residence.

Lars looked up and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he hadn't slept for days! To be honest he looked like a crack head in Prim's opinion... 'No, he would never!' An image of Lars doing crack came to mind. Prim shuddered in fear. 'He may act like Mr.Badass all the time, but he wouldn't dare to do such a thing!' 

"Oh, Prim! You're here!" Lars exclaimed a little groggily, as if he were just dozing off. He wore a black Under Armour tank and a pair of grey shorts, her hair a bit of a mess btw.

"Well no shit Sherlock, of course I'm here." 

"How did you get out of that wacko of a house and passed that nut job of a family?" He questioned. 'Such a bitch...' Prim thought as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Watch it chicken legs, I still don't have a problem breaking your arm."

Lars backed off. "Alright alright."

"Well it was fairly easy to get passed my nut job of a family, besides, Garnet is covering for me."

He nodded and patted the spot next to him, indicating for Primrose to sit. Prim gladly took the seat and looked off into the distance, sitting in an awkward silence. 

"Rough night?" she asked. 

"Uh yeah, rough night," he said, sighing wand rubbing the back of his head. "It hasn't been good the past couple of weeks, I haven't gotten a single drop of good sleep."

"Have you gone to the doctors?"

"Phssht, the Doctors?" Lars scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Doctors are for wimps, big baby, wusses, shall I go on?"

"And the Doctors are for people who are in need of major help, for those who need a diagnosis, and for recovery," Prim corrected him, eyeing Lars up. 

"Oh whatever," he groaned, putting his head in his hand. "My parents said that I should go to the Doctors but...I don't know I feel little weird about it." 

"Yeah I get," Prim started, "the doctors could be a scary place, no lie, but the only thing they want to do is help you."

Lars sighed, looking down sadly. "Yeah..." 

Prim put her hand on his shoulder. "Hey, why don't we go in? Sort of chilly out here don't you think?"

Lars looked at her with depressing eyes and nodded, getting up from his seat and Prim followed him in quietly. "My parents are away on a trip, won't be back till like sometime next week." 

"That's pretty cool, gonna throw a few parties?" She elbowed his side and wiggled her brows. Lars shrugged and gave a very small smile. 

"I suppose a party or two wouldn't be so bad," Lars thought aloud, flicking the lights on in the kitchen. There on the island sat a plate of doughnuts, soaking in all the glory. Prim licked her lips and her eyes lit up. Lars plopped down on a chair and the younger of the two sat across from him. "Want one?" Lars asked, taking a pink icing topped doughnut. 

"Do I ever!" Exclaimed Prim, taking the one with white icing and rainobow sprinkles. She could never turn down the most delicious thing in the entire world. Well, right behind cookie cat. "Oh man these are bomb!"

"Big Donut never fails to impress," muffled Lars while eating his doughnut. After a few more bites of their delicious treats, Prim cleared her throat to speak.

"So how about we talk about the nightmare, hmm?" 

"Oh, u-um, now that I think about it, I don't really think it's worth mentioning anymore." Lars rubbed his arm uncomfortable, fidgeting around in his seat. 

"Dude I came all the way over here because you had a nightmare, I could be sleeping right now." She rolled her eyes. "So you're telling me."

"But it's stupid, really." 

"Not to me it isn't."

"Well to me it is."

"C'mon Lars I didn't come here for nothin' "

"Prim just let it go." 

"Nope."

"You're really starting to annoy me."

"Don't care, now spit it out already!"

"No!"

"Why not?!"

"Because it's dumb!"

"Its not dumb!"

"Yes! It! Is!"

"UGH!" Prim stood from her seat and jabbed her finger into Lars's chest. "Why must you be so freakin stubborn?!"

"Why are you always trying to get into everyone's business?!" Lars pushed Prim's arms away. 

"YOU TOLD ME TO COME OVER!" Prim flailed her arms around. "God, you say you're life is so horrible, so miserable! Oh boohoo Lars!"

"Yeah! SO WHAT?!"

"Maybe if you talked about your feelings you would be a nicer person and everyone would like you!" Prim yelled at him, shoving the chair in and leaning over table to get in his face.

"Well in so sorry your majesty but I HATE talking about my feelings!"

"WHY?!"

"B-BECAUSE I'M SCARED!!!" Lars's hand went down and he hit the table with a loud bang. Silence fell between them, the only sounds filling the air at the moment was their heaving. "Are you happy?!" His voice cracked as he wiped the building tears from his eyes, sitting back down and hiding his face in his arms. Lars's shoulders shook as he cried and Prim looked down at him pitifully. 

Prim sat back down and sighed, running a hand over her face. "Lars..."

"W-What?" He whimpered into his arms.

"Look at me."

Lars moved his head so that Prim could only see just his eyes; those dark eyes that were streaked with tears. 

Prim put her hand on his arm and leaned in. "Tell me what happened."

Lars furrowed his brows, wiping his eyes and grabbing a tissue from the tissue box beside him. "It's just...it was all dark. No light, nothin, just pitch black. A-And I was alone! Just me, falling down an endless pit of darkness. Prim I couldn't escape! I was so scared! No mom and dad, no Sadie--no Steven...n-not even you..." he placed his hand over Prim's, looking away with tinted cheeks. "I thought it would never end. And then there was horrible voices. They said such hurtful t-things..." Lars shut his eyes tightly and his shoulders shook. 

"What did these voices say Lars?" Prim asked gently. 

"They....they...called me pathetic. A-A waste of s-space. They said my parents were ashamed of me. That I was a loser." He covered his eyes. "But they were true. These voices were right about everything they said." 

Prim's eyes widened and it felt like her heart broke. 'Oh you poor thing...' She was his friend, this was probably the first time Lars has ever opened up to anyone, but Prim didn't know what to do.

"Why can't I just be like Steven?" Lars said. "Why can't I just be like...you?" He looked up at her. "You're kind to everyone and everything. You're smart, passionate, you help everyone who has a problem, and you make a new friend everyday--the same with Steven. Y-You're nice to me, even when I treat you badly," the teen looked away with shame. 

Prim shook her head, "There's only one Steven, there's only one of me, and then there's just one of you. And to just think of two Stevens drives me nuts," she cracked a toothy smile, thinking of her brother. "The things those voices said aren't true in any way, shape, or form, I  promise you that. You are who you are, and no one could change you. Sure you have your bad days, but who doesn't? And sure you have more bad days than good, but that just makes the good days seem even more special then they really are." Prim cupped Lars's cheeks, wiping the tears away with her fingers. "You're special."

"R-Really?" Sniffed Lars, swallowing hard and face becoming hotter. 

"In my eyes you are. To me you always will be." The two smiled at each other, faces rather close now. "We all get nightmares. Even you Lars, even I."

"Thank you, Prim..." Lars whispered. "Ya'know, now that I look at you more and more often, I never told you this, but you really are beautiful."

"Jeez, I get you to open up once and you're already telling me I'm beautiful?" She smirked, blowing a lose strand of hair out of her face. 

He rolled his eyes, moving his eyes away from hers. "W-Well, since we're in the moment n' all, I thought I should just tell you. I mean, you're gorgeous!"

Prim's face started to feel hot with embarrassment, the sweatshirt suddenly not being needed anymore. Prim pulled back and pulled the sweatshirt off, the cool breeze hitting her skin and her gem glowing with passion. It was out there, making her body feel warm with....love? 'This is an odd feeing...' she thought to herself. She only ever felt her dad's fatherly love, or Steven's brother love, even the Gem's motherly love in a way...never this kind. Maybe it wasn't even love, she didn't know, but from then on when she looked at the boy in front of her, she felt...different. Her stomach tingled, like butterflies swarmed inside. Her heart pounded in her chest, her cheeks going red as she leaned forward again. 

"O-Oh w-w-well thanks," Prim laughed softly, rubbing the back of her head. "You flatter me---

A pair of lips pressed against hers, a hand on the back of her head. Prim stuttered into the kiss, her heart skipping a few beats, a feeling of warmth engulf her. Prim kissed Lars back, holding his shoulders. A few seconds later they both broke away, gasping for air, falling back in their seats. She touched her lips with her fingertips, slouching in her chair. 'Did he just...?'

Lars himself looked like he couldn't believe what he had done. He covered his mouth, his face passed the color red, looking away out of sheer humiliation. "I'm sorry Prim, I...I-I don't know what came over me--" Prim rose from her seat, looking at Lars with a smirk. "Wait, where are you going?" He asked, sounding a bit saddened and panicked. 

She rolled her dark eyes at him and walked around the table and stood in front of Lars. "Where am I gonna go?" She asked, a smile on her lips. 

(Ok so like I don't know if this is Would be labeled as pg 13/14 form this point on, so don't go nutso in the comments!)

Prim sat down on Lars's lap, facing him with her arms around his neck. Lars seemed to be in a dazing shock, his eyes still glittering with settling tears and face shining with streaks. She pressed against his chest, a small cheeky smile spread against her face. Lars stuttered over his words, his hands resting on her back, fingers moving over her gem. "I-I-I like you..." Lars mumbled quietly, looking her in the eyes (I know, real cheesy). "Like...really really like you..."

"Really? I haven't noticed," Prim raised her brows, "I'm just curious why me and not Sadie."

"Sadie..." he started, "I only ever seen Sadie as a friend. Nothing more, but I think she feels a bit stronger about me instead." 

"You don't think she'd be really mad at us, do you?" The girl of 14 asked a bit worriedly. After all, Sadie was her friend too, and she would never want to upset her.

"I don't know, actually, we'll just have to see."

"So that means..." Prim laughed a little, shrugging her shoulders, "that we're dating? Like...a thing?" 

Lars smiled widely, nodded his head, and rested his forehead against hers. Prim kissed his cheek, then his jawbone, and then laid a small kiss on his neck, and then a bigger one where his shoulder and neck met. "You won't ever abandon me, would you?" he moaned, his grip on Prim becoming stronger. "Like, leave me for someone better?"

Prim, the girl with dark, long springs for hair, chuckled softly, hugging the older boy's skinny yet strong chest to her. "Never" is what she whisper, giving him a loving kiss on the cheek.

[hatsukeii]

Hi I love you haikyuu match ups! I was wondering if you could do mine please. Thank you in advance if you do.

Hi, I was wondering if you could do a bnha match up for me, please. If you're still doing them that is.

I'm 17 and 5’6,Capricorn with a curvy thick(which I hate) figure. I have pale skin and short hair I have two different coloured eyes the left being green and right being brown. I have snakebite, jestrum, septum helix and tongue pierced. People say I can come off as intimidating because of my appearance. (I also wear dark clothing all the time) For some reason, people call me the mum of the group? But really I'm just an idiot when. I can be really sarcastic and I often insult others in a jokingly way. I like cooking and baking and often take my baking into college for others to enjoy. I guess that kind of a reason I'm called the mother of the group. I do have a tendency to degrade myself and put myself down. I also have anxiety and depression that I have to medication for. I also have autism, so I have some sensory processing problems and I tend to sim when I stressed or exited which can be awkward so I try not to do it in font of people. I like affection and cuddles but only when I want to. I'm kinda like a cat in that way.

This was literally like obvious I read through it and just went yes I know

TERUSHIMA TERUSHIMA TERUSHIMA

Okok so I gotta address the obvious ones first MATCHING TONGUE PIERCINGS???? HELLO???? He is 100% into it I just know every single day he asks you to show him again and again and again- this man thinks you’re sooooooo cool for having so many piercings I am certain

Ok then comes the whole mom friend thing right we know Terushima may be smart but he can be an idiot sometimes, and he needs someone to just ground him a bit, which is where you come in!! You literally drag him by the ear out of stupid situations god bless him if he didn’t have you around oml

I don’t think he rlly cares much ab your body or like how you dress it’s more if you vibe w it then he fucks w it too, plus he probably thinks curves are sexy;))

Now onto the more emotional part of things- yeah I feel like he’s definitely very supportive but also kinda clueless💀💀this mostly applies to your autism he knows how much it affects you and your living but he had no clue how to help at first. He really had to sit you down one day and went “ok so about your autism… is there any way I can help?” But with time he’s gotten accustomed to the point where when you stim he knows exactly how to manage it. Probably bought you a stress ball at some point so you could squeeze that instead. He doesn’t judge you for it, he knows it’s something you can’t help. In fact when you stim out of excitement he ends up excited with you- and if anyone makes fun of you he would gladly curb stomp them:)

Terushima seems vv affectionate and loves touching you in general (not in a spicy way but just like everything else), but he knows when to stop,,, sometimes. He can get clingy when you don’t want him to, that’s when you have to like give him a kiss on the forehead and tell him to fuck off (with love). Other times tho, it’s cuddles galore:))

Hope you liked your matchup, (I don’t actually do them much anymore but once in a while I still will)

[hello-yue-here]

For the ask game:

tyzula

zukka

and that’s all I can think of now.

NOW WERE COOKIN

tyzula

i like it. i do. i think that if its well written and actually acknowledges how problematic azula and ty lees friendship was in the show and actively works to overcome that and grow from that then i enjoy it. but if its just written as a toxic ship or doesnt address all the shitty things azula did then its a no from me. i dont like toxic ships and in canon their friendship is INCREDIBLY toxic and while i love azula, in order for me to like a fic with azula in it and shes being portrayed as a “good guy” then youve gotta acknowledge what she did to make her evil in the first place. i hate when people gloss over the fact that she was an imperialist and was super manipulative towards people who were supposed to be her friends. in canon she was a horrible person and yes she was abused and yes she was just a kid and yes she did not deserve to be abused but that doesnt change the fact that she was still not a good person. i feel like theres a good amount of tyzula content out there that does an incredible job of addressing this and making sure they craft a good redemption arc for azula and depicts the relationship in a healthy way. other than that ive never had any issues with tyzula shippers and i do say that i ship them myself. ive hardly heard about any drama among peoppe who say tyzula is their otp and ship it hardcore (i have heard some toxic stuff tho so it isnt perfect but its also very rare for that kinda stuff to pop up on my dash) so at least from my understanding its a good fanbase a majority of the time. on a much more positive note i really enjoy their dynamic. i like how azula can be rough around the edges and very regal and proper and still bitchy and then ty lee is there to be bubbly and creative and bring joy into azulas life. i think they balance each other out well and in canon we can see very clearly how much they admire each other (despite the toxicity in canon). azula wishes she were more like ty lee and ty lee thinks azula is amazing and gorgeous. i think theyre a good pairing when done correctly.

zukka.

MY LOVES. i adore zukka. i think they have so many parallels in canon such as being over shadowed by their prodigy younger sisters, their insecurities, their profficiency in weaponry, their anxiety about following in their fathers footsteps (in diff ways obviously). i think their personalities mesh well together. dramatic dickhead zuko. genius snarky bastard sokka. i love them. and the content we get from zukka creators is SO GOOD. the art the fics everything. i love it so much. i personally relate very much to zuko in the sense that he has lots of anger and is dramatic and i relate to sokka a lot too in the semse that im sarcastic and smart and hide my emotions a lot and sometimes feel second best to my friends. i see myself in both of them and when i see them together being happy it makes me feel happy.

zukka fans on the other hand. there are good zukka fans out there. there are wonderful funny amazing zukka fans out there. but holy fuck the number of zukkas out there who conpletely fetishize the ship and strip away all of their character traits so they can make them into a weak little baby boy zuko and a suave macho man sokka (which btw are both racist characatures. if you havent seen all the poc on this app who have called these characterizations out then please please please reevaluate how ur interacting w zukka because not only is it so out of characfer for both of them. it is literally racist). and while there are so many good fics and fanarts for zukka, there is an OVERWHELMINGS number of racist, transphobic, biphobic, homophobic, and all around problematic content everywhere. and some fans are so toxic that it makes me rlly dislike being a zukka sometimes. i will always love the ship but sometimes i feel a little embarassed to be associated with it. i know that i do my best to stay far away from the toxic fans but it gets so frustrating sometimes. i know not every zukka is like this, literally all of my zukka mutuals are wonderful and amazing. but the amount of toxic fans is turning so many people off of the ship and causing people who genuinely enjoyed it to be turned off by it and its giving the good zukkas a bad name. im very upset by the reputation zukka fans have gained on this website from the toxic fans who antagonize other ships (primarily zks. i love zk. just because zks ship zuko with katara doesnt mean that its awful. toxic zukkas plz leave zks alone. so many of them are so nice. i know theres always toxic fans in every fandom and for every ship but like,,, its just so much easier to stay in ur own lane yk?). with that being said i love zukka as a ship but the fans have made it hard for many people to enjoy so sometimes its frustrating. but i love zukka. i think they are a wonderful ship and they are my favorite one in atla.

[bichlordstories]

7: Daddy bento

“(L/n)-san, before you head off to lunch, I need to see you for a moment.” Sekijiro said.

He could briefly see a bit of a scowl you failed to hide before forcing your frown away. From the first week he got to know you from simply teaching the class, he learned that you were terrible at hiding your true feelings, though sometimes it seemed like you weren’t even trying.

He could tell you had a temper, he even seen you getting rough with the other students, especially that silver haired kid, Tetsutetsu. You weren’t directly going after them, in fact, you never really started things. And to make it worse, Tetsutetsu was coming back to you, losing a bit of his temper himself.

Unlike him, however, you were more of a ticking time bomb.

You didn’t go off out of nowhere, and your motives weren’t very predictable. You waited for the person to finish (usually) before striking. You always had a blank but annoyed expression when hurting the ones that mildly inconvenienced you on purpose. And today was worse.

“Yes?” You said in a rather rude tone, earning a raised eyebrow from the teacher.

“...sir.” You corrected.

“I wanted to address your behavior.” The man said simply before pointing to the chair next to his desk.

You rolled your eyes and reluctantly sat down.

“Before you start, Sekijiro-sensei, I just want to note that they started it first.” You said.

Seikijiro sighed and began rubbing his temples.

“Yes. That is true. But that shouldn’t warrant your behavior, (L/n)-san. You need to have better control of yourself, or your actions may lead to dire consequences in the future.” He said in a stern tone.

You looked to the ground, a deep frown evident on your face.

“(L/n)-san... you have a lot of potential. Your physical abilities are outstanding, you take things very seriously in every single test I have given you, and you’ve only been here for a few weeks. I want to help you become one of the greatest heroes of our time, but I need you to work with me here.” He said, this time in a softer tone.

“...ok.” You said.

He leaned back in his chair with a long exhale before continuing.

“If your behavior continues, I will have to have you do counseling, understood?”

“Yes sir.” You said and got up, ready to leave the classroom before the man stopped you.

“Oh, before you go, you’ll have to do some tutoring as well.”

This caught you off guard, to say the least. Before you could ask him what he meant, he spoke once more.

“Although you are passing, you are barely. Out of everyone here, you have the lowest grades, specifically in math. The other subjects have acceptable grades, but I know you can do better.” He said.

“Meet me after school in class, we’ll discuss more.”

And with that, he dismissed you, finally letting you leave the classroom. You opened the door, wanting nothing more than to eat after losing your egg sandwich that morning before walking head first into somebody’s chest.

At first, you thought it was a tall woman, seeing that your face was met with big tits, until you backed away to find two blonde hairs sticking up like rabbit ears.

“All Might.” You said.

The man flashed you a surprised look, smile crooked and nervous.

“Oh, hello there! I’m just passing by, wanted to talk to your teacher!”

You cocked an eyebrow at the blonde before moving to the side to leave.

“Yeah, he’s in there.” You said with a flat tone.

Once again, you left the blonde man to stand awkwardly in a hallway.

“Class 1A is getting a lot of attention lately.”

“Yeah? What’s so good about them anyway?”

“They must have done something so amazing that it got people’s attention.” Someone whispered in a sarcastic tone.

“Like surviving an attack?” You said out loud, drawing the attention of others, including class 1A, who were being blocked by the large group of students.

This whole day wasn’t going your way at all, first you lost your egg sandwich, and then you had to be forced into tutoring by your homeroom teacher. What especially didn’t improve your mood was the rumors of class 1A.

And now look where those rumors led people. In the middle of the hallway, blocking your path in front of class 1A. You had tutoring to go to, and they were not fucking helping.

“They were attacked by villains. They could have died, their teacher had injuries all over him. The fact that they made it out alive without wounds is a miracle.”

A familiar face turned toward you with a mild scowl.

“That doesn’t give them the right to treat the rest of us like garbage.” Shinsou said.

“When did they say anything? What did they do to insinuate that everyone else was trash.” You said.

A student next to you butted in nervously, rubbing his arm.

“W-well that blonde guy-“

“The blonde guy?” You interrupted.

The student looked at you startled, but you continued.

“What about that girl behind him? Did she say something?”

“Uh-“

“And four eyes? He doesn’t look like one to cuss a storm, hell, he looks like he would faint at the word ‘vagina’.”

The said blue haired teen flustered at the word and was about to scold you before Midoriya grabbed his arm, shaking his head.

“Did anyone else say anything.” You said to the crowd.

Everyone else looked toward each other, some looking down while others looked to Shinsou and the class with guilt.

“No? Just the blonde? I mean, wow, if the blonde is an asshole, that must mean everyone else in this goddamn school are stuck up pricks.” You spat their logic back into their faces, earning some grimaces.

“Let me remind you that they could have died. Their parents could have had the bodies of their children sent home to them. Siblings would have lost a brother or sister. A friend would have had to watch their friend be lowered in their grave. They’re still kids. We all are. So get your heads out of your own asses and move.” You said before shoving through the crowd of embarrassed and ashamed students.

After a whole day of missing breakfast and only getting a few bites of lunch, you were starving, cranky, and all around just not having a good day.

You met your homeroom teacher in class 1B. To say you were embarrassed was an understatement. Although you hid your embarrassment well, you still stood awkwardly in the door. You knew you were the only one getting tutoring out of everyone else.

Why did you have to be so dumb???

“You’re not dumb.”

Shit, you must have said that out loud! Sekijiro-sensei gestured to a seat and stood up from his to approach you.

“People have different ways of learning, and yours isn’t through reading a textbook.” He said.

“I am observant, and I’ve seen you reading textbooks when there’s nothing to do. I’ve seen you struggling to focus as well.”

You looked down at the desk you were sitting in, quietly trying to chip away the edge. Your face twisted into what he could tell was a saddened frown, much different from the usual scowls you gave people. It was obvious that it bothered you to no end that you got almost nothing out of reading. His own expression softened a bit once seeing you crack a bit before sitting down in the seat next to you.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ll admit that I struggled with reading when I was your age. Sometimes I still do have problems today.”

You slowly lifted your head and gave him a side glance. He clearly got your attention that time. Knowing that he was able to connect with you further, he began speaking more before something low and guttural resounded within the room.

You froze immediately and turned your head away from him, clearly embarrassed by your organ angrily rumbling at you for food.

The man paused at this before getting up and walking towards his desk. He grabbed a white container and placed it in front of you before sitting back in the desk next to you. You stared at the bento in front of you and then to your teacher.

“Sekijiro-sensei...?”

“Go ahead and eat, kid. You clearly need it after today.” He said before his eyes widened.

“Unless you’re allergic to certain foods...”

You muttered out a no and looked back down at the bento.

“Go ahead, I already ate lunch, that was for later tonight.” He said.

You still hesitated before opening it, being met with a delightful sight. Grilled fish, fried brown rice with vegetables inside, and other greens. You slowly grabbed the chop sticks and looked back to the man, who nodded at you to eat what was in front of you.

And you did just that. At first, you slowly picked at certain foods inside the bento before eating in a more comfortable pace. Sekijiro could see that you were still tense, afraid almost, but he waved it off in his mind.

“...you’re wife did a good job.” You said after finishing.

“I made that myself actually. I don’t have a wife.”

You looked over at the man with surprised look before covering it up and placing the chopsticks across the bento politely.

“Thank you, sir.”

The man flashed you a smile and said that it was no problem before getting up and grabbing a piece of paper, your failed math assignment, and began going over it with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vlad King is one of the most underrated daddy material in MHA. Seriously. He’s Endeavour if Endeavour was actually a great fucking father (but he ain’t sadly... still love the fire fart, but he excretes small dick energy).

Gotta love blood daddy.

[dc41896]

You Again (3)

Ok so as y’all have probably noticed I’ve been very much in my Chris feels lately and I just want to apologize really quick for the spam lol. Eventually the stories for him won’t be as frequent, however when that will be idk 😅. Hopefully you guys don’t mind though and again sorry for the spam!

Pairing: fratboi!Chris EvansxBlack Reader

⚠️: None💕!

“Ok so we talked about the basics like position and function, now I think we should add if there’s any diseases that affect it or what could happen if it’s damaged like with Phineas Gage and the iron rod,” Chris explains taking turns looking between you and his laptop screen.

“Oh, um yea that sounds good,” you respond slightly caught off guard from how well everything was currently going. You had your notes lying in front of you to make sure you were putting the correct information on the slides, but you honestly didn’t need them from Chris recalling everything, word for word, from memory as if he was a human textbook.

“What, surprised that I actually know something sweetheart?”

“No, I know you’re smart and have since we were little it’s just...you say and do dumb stuff sometimes, which can make some question that.”

Chuckling as he places his hand over his chest; you find yourself giggling as you’re immediately brought back to when you were kids. Even then, you thought his laugh was adorable and even tried to copy it, which Chris took the wrong way and thought you were making fun of him.

It was your first fight and you practically begged him as tears streamed down your face to understand that it was a good thing.

Seeing you cry then made him cry, and of course after hearing about two distraught kids on the playground, your teacher took both of you aside to try to figure out what happened. Long story short, it was a very eventful recess.

“Wris sing!,” his niece, Alana, excitedly announces running up to her uncle’s leg.

“Not right now Stink I’m working on something ok? Maybe later.”

“Tay,” she sighs, disappointment over her face as Chris picks her up to rest her head on his shoulder while he continues to type.

“Wait sing? You sing?” Sitting back in your seat with arms crossed over your chest, an amused expression covers your face.

“I mean not on the regular, she just likes this song and wants people to sing it with her so I’ll do it sometimes. But we’re working now so don’t get your hopes up about a full routine.”

“Actually I think we deserve a little break from all this excruciating work we’ve done. Don’t you Alana?”

“Yea!! Wris sing!”

“Yea c’mon Wris,” you smirk as she pulls his hand towards the play room. A large sigh escaping his pink lips, his eyes stay glued to you for a few extra seconds as if thinking of something before smiling at his niece as he stands from his chair to follow behind.

“You know what? Why don’t we have Y/N sing with us too?”

“Yay!!”

“Oh no, you don’t want to hear me sing. I’m sure you’d rather want your uncle.”

“Nonsense! The more the merrier right Stink?” Grabbing your hand, he leads you to the light pink playroom littered with various toys along the cream colored carpeted floor and books perched on white shelves lining the wall.

Turning on the small circular speaker sat on one of the shelves, upbeat music begins to fill the room as she bounces up and down clapping her hands. Walking up to his niece as he sings, he takes her small hand and twirls her around making her giggle.

“I'm telling you, darling

The minute you're calling

I'll be there in a hurry,

No matter how far

It could be to the stars

Yeah, I'll be there, don't you worry,

With you I stay fly

To the sky

With you I stay fly

To the sky”

Smiling as you watch them dance, you don’t know what surprises you more the fact that he actually sounded decent or that he was capable of doing something so cute and not annoying for once. Skipping over to you, Alana grabs your fingers pulling you over to their small group.

“Dance too!,” she giggles joining your hand with Chris’ as she holds onto both of your free hands making a circle with the three of you.

Lightly twisting along with her, all that can be heard over the music is all of your laughter and the occasional small thumping of her tiny feet hitting the floor after you and Chris lift her in the air.

Bending down, he picks Alana up holding her on one arm before twirling you with the other while she excitedly squeals. Making your way back around to face him, you momentarily lose your balance causing your body to press against his as you try to avoid stumbling.

“Careful sweetheart. You know you were always a bit clumsy,” he smirks making you roll your eyes before laughing at yourself.

“And what’s going on here?,” a voice asks from the doorway startling the both of you.

“Mommy!” Running up to the woman with similar features to Chris, Alana jumps into her arms kissing her on the cheek.

“Hey sweetie! Did you have fun with your uncle and his friend?”

“Sarah this is Y/N, we’re working on a project together so I invited her over.”

“Wait Y/N?! Oh my gosh it’s been so long!,” she smiles walking over to where you and Chris were standing. “I remember when you were a little girl playing with this pain over here. How’ve you been?”

“Good, just ready to graduate and be done with school.”

“Yea I bet, but you guys only have a month left so you’ll be done before you know it. Do you know what you want to do after?”

“Yea I’m hoping to be a nurse in the hospital or one of the clinics but then again we’ll see what happens.”

“Juice pwease!,” Alana interrupts with a smile making the three of you giggle.

“Alright sweetie it’s coming up. Were you guys gonna stay for dinner?”

“Nah maybe next time, I got a meeting to go to in a couple hours so we should get going. Bye stink!,” he answers tickling her sides. “Bye adult stink.”

“Be glad I’m holding a child right now,” she glares smacking his arm as he laughs. “Bye Y/N it was nice seeing you again and good luck with everything!”

“Bye pwetty!!,” Alana adds waving her hand.

“Thanks Sarah and bye Alana! Be good ok? Unless you’re with your uncle Chris then do whatever you want,” you smile making both of them giggle as Chris rolls his eyes.

———

“Trying out for Fast and Furious 13 are we?,” you ask as you enter the restaurant.

“Calm down I wasn’t going that fast.”

“Your foot was pressed so hard on the pedal I thought it was gonna go through the floor and you’d run the car yourself like Fred Flinstone.”

“And yet we still made it safe so you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about it sweetheart,” he smirks following you to the register.

“Aww look at you two! Me and my Harold fuss like that all the time,” a middle aged woman with glasses sitting at the bar smiles. “How long have you been dating?”

“Oh we’re-,”

“Six months and 10 days. But it feels longer which is crazy,” he interrupts putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Well I wish you guys many more months of happiness, and might I add you are a beautiful couple.”

“Thank you! I hope so too because heaven knows how I’d be if I lost her.”

“Yea I’d hate to be without him,” you fake smile as he kisses your temple. Collecting the last of her things, she hangs her purse on her shoulder before giving you both a final wave as she walks out the door.

“New rule,” you speak elbowing him in the side causing a small grunt to escape his lips before he chuckles. “Never do any of what you just did again. Now I need to disinfect my face when I get back to the room.”

“Jeez so violent,” he smirks rubbing his side. “This is how you show appreciation when I’m treating you to food?”

“Correction you treated me to a ride, but I can pay for myself.”

“I know you can, I’m just trying to pay you back for helping.”

“And I appreciate that but there’s no argument, I can get my own food,” you sarcastically smile.

“Yea there wasn’t an argument until you started one, like always,” he answers copying your expression.

“I don’t always start arguments-,”

“Oh my gosh Chris hi!” Turning towards the register, you see a familiar looking slender girl around your age carrying two red cups. Red hair pulled up in a ponytail, she rushes around the counter excitedly smiling as she places the cups down before wrapping her arms around his neck giving him a quick, yet very extra, hug. “That pool party was insane!”

“Ahh that’s where I’ve seen her from,” you thought as you stood listening to their conversation.

“I know right, we definitely gotta have another one soon. Oh Jessica this is Y/N, Y/N this is Jessica, you guys have probably seen each other around campus.”

“Yea I think I’ve-,”

“Hmm no I don’t think so, but anyway yes to another one!,” she interrupts immediately directing her attention back to Chris and making you silently laugh to yourself in disbelief. “Especially towards the end of the semester like maybe even after graduation!”

“You know that’s a good idea, I’ll talk to the boys about it and see what they say.”

“If it’s coming from you I’m sure they’ll say yes. Just make sure I’m invited.”

“Of course!,” he smiles making her blush as she twirls her hair with her index finger. Making eye contact with someone behind you, she removes herself from her trance before picking up the two cups now saturated with dew.

“Excuse me, I have to take these to a table really quick. I’ll take your order when I get back,” she smiles as she passes the both of you, purposely leaning more into Chris so she could graze her arm against his.

“Well she was nice,” you speak sitting in one of the empty barstools as you wait for her to return.

“Am I sensing a bit of jealousy?,” he asks propping one foot on the lower bar of your stool as he grabs the back railing, fingertips occasionally touching your back.

“You know what, yes I am jealous. Of the fact that she doesn’t have to be near you right now while I’m stuck here looking at your face.”

“First stalking now staring at my face?! I have to say I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be because I definitely have not, and will not, do any of those. Now I’m sure your little flirt buddy back there would happily do those for you.”

“I was not flirting, that was called being nice and charming.”

“Oh please, I was just about to ask should I leave with all her hair twirling and your ‘of course you’re invited, why wouldn’t I invite all available girls in the state?’,” you mock immitating both of their voices while scrolling through Instagram.

“Clearly you don’t know how flirting works so why don’t I demonstrate on you then?”

Looking up from your phone you’re met with crystal blue eyes peering down at you making you realize just how close you two actually were.

Inches from his chest, it was almost as if you could feel his cologne radiate off his skin with the slightest movement he’d make. His gaze becoming more intense the longer your eyes are locked together, it feels like you’ve been that way for minutes instead of only a few seconds as you slightly shift in your seat.

Even trying to talk now seemed impossible from your throat feeling like the Sahara desert at high noon.

“Huh would you look at that, she doesn’t have a comeback,” he smirks turning his attention from you to the sports headlines from ESPN scrolling across the television mounted high in the corner.

And just like that, Christopher “Party King” Evans had left you dumbfounded after taking away your power of always having the last word.

Taglist: @secretmysteriousperson @crushed-pink-petals @honeychicana @fumbling-fanfics @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @itshinothey @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only wants to be tagged for certain people I write for, or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

[sternenteile]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

tagged by:  @battleshell​  ;  we all care blue, u do, i do, we all do tagging:  holy shit my whole dash because exorbitantly long memes are the BEST. i aint even sarcastic when i say that, i love this kind of shit. u GOTTA do it.

my muse is:  canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO. [ he is in two fandoms, in fact. he is both a fan-favorite from super mario rpg, the very first in the line of mario rpgs we’ve gotten over the years, and a pretty popular smash bros. request. he even got a mii costume in 4 and a spirit in ultimate as a result of the love. he’s very beloved, to the point that i’d, even as a geno fan myself, deem him a bit overrated. why? b/c where is all the love for all the other smrpg characters!!! they are all good. i love them all. ]

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. [ i mean ?? i’ve met and seen many people who have/had crushes on geno so ??????? but i don’t think it’s like. that. ghfskjhgsg??? ]

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. [ oh yes, he is undeniably very strong, both in personality and in battle. he is often seen as the level-headed straight man of the party in smrpg (which, in the case of my geno, is... semi-applicable LMAO), a star spirit with unwavering bravery and confidence. his in-battle stats are also pretty crazy, favoring geno as a glass cannon and enemy sweeper. he is also the only character in the game to have a move that will insta-kill any enemy besides bosses. well, and exor. idk why exor, but there ya go. needless to say, pretty much everyone in the fandom agrees that geno is a powerful mfer. why wouldn’t a literal, living star be? ]

Are they underrated?  YES / NO / IDK. [ as i mentioned before, there is no shortage of him being underrated in the fanbase. i’d even say he’s a little overrated. some people treat smrpg as ‘that game with geno in it’ rather than everything else it has going for it. i love star boye as much as the next gal, but pls appreciate smrpg as a whole. it’s such a vibrant game with a colorful world of characters to love. ]

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO. [ he is actually, completely central to the plot. the subtitle of smrpg is legend of the seven stars, which directly relates to geno’s core mission: to find the seven star pieces and restore star road. the rest of the gang had different ambitions, but they all ended up banding together over geno’s objective. one could argue he mostly is the exposition-granter and could be replaced with anyone else, but i feel he’s irreplaceable. smrpg would be so different without him, like it or not. ]

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG. [ i wouldn’t say he is the protagonist, obviously, as that is very much mario’s spot. that being said, he is a pretty obvious deuteragonist for smrpg, given how much the plot revolves around him. he’s relevant to mario, for sure, as well as peach, mallow, and bowser. he’s relevant to many characters beyond them. he represents the fight for everyone’s wishes to be able to come true. he’s, uh... very relevant rofl. ]

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO. [ the star spirits are somewhat known in the mario universe as entities capable of granting wishes, kinda like fabled gods with a tinge more evidence and reality to them. geno himself isn’t a known name, not like the seven star spirits of star haven, but his people are decently known. he, however, is not. ]

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. [ he is basically the epitome of ‘good’ until you overthink star society like i do lol. not all wishes can be granted, what constitutes as a ‘good wish’ is subjective, why some good wishes still can’t be granted anyway, etc. it puts him more towards neutral good with a dash of lawful and an undercurrent of chaotic, given his rebellion against his superiors. ]

How strictly do you follow canon?  —  i mean, it isn’t hard to be strict to mario canon when there isn’t that much of a foundation to work with anyway lol. it’s all rather simplistic until you get into the nitty gritty of it ??? that said, geno is built on a lot of headcanon. like, a lot a lot. star society and its rules for star spirits of his kind, his relationship with rosalina (a matronly figure), his relationship with the seven star spirits, the fleshing-out of his basic personality traits shown in smrpg, etc.? headcanon upon headcanon.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.  —  a star possessing the form of a children’s toy, like toy story but with more cosmic pew-pew. a chill and sassy guy still learning the ways of how earth (and other planets) work on a more intimate level, meaning there will be lots of adorkable moments as this curious one makes discoveries. sometimes attempts to innovate with what he learns to be ‘ahead of the curve’, leading to interesting results. (he likes to sip bubble tea, but replace the tapioca pearls with star bits. good result. mopping a counter-top because it would be ‘more efficient’? not-so-good result, got him lots of stares.) straight outta the 90′s, so be ready some of that rad 90′s slang and know-how from back in the day. (what do u mean they’re bringing back dunkaroos? that’d mean they stOPPED MAKING THEM?!?) very intrigued with new technology, became stuck to his smartphone upon discovering them, fell into the time-sink that is animal videos on youtube. he’s humble and likes to relax, have a good time, and relax w/ the squad. video games, netflix binges, the whole nine yards, he’s gotchu. he is a hell of a fighter and loves to fight, as well. help him push his abilities, and he’ll help you with yours.  likes being a little shit for fun, only to an extent (harmless moments of impishness, not serious, hurtful pranks). has a sense of humor that is easy to tickle, even with stupid dad jokes and classic puns. the brother-friend that will fire lasers at ur enemies for u. likes to play violin. cute. super cutie. v. tiny in his star form. almost five whole feet of sparkly, twinkly fun. likes super soakers.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).  —  despite intrigue to learn more about the world around him, there is only so much that he does know. societal norms are often beyond him, and there are just so, so many earth hobbies he is not aware of. without handing him a bone, it makes him a little more limited than someone who’s more savvy. he is prime slice-of-life material, but that may also make things rather dull in an rp without an extra twist to spice things up. (thankfully, his being a total SNOT sometimes helps with that.) in canon and strictly in canon, geno doesn’t really have much personality, something that this geno has plenty more fleshed out. a good chunk of fandom finds him to be incredibly boring and droll, to which i personally disagree, as there are little things in smrpg that hint towards him having more to explore.

What inspired you to rp your muse?  —  funnily enough, seeing smash bros. fandom railing on geno fans + hyping him up all at the same time made me revisit smrpg after having only played it as a teenager. i expected geno to be a boring slate of nothing like fandom often portrays him, but i found that i was terribly wrong. with a newfound perspective on him, noting little details that defied my expectations for this li’l guy, i decided to give him a geno whirl and see what kind of expansion i could do with his character. the amount of lore i came up with him and started wondering about piled on and on and on, and i realized that he had so much more potential than what nintendo and square properly tapped into. (some of it is also a matter of being timely, though, meaning later mario materials such as rosalina, star haven, etc.) i wanted to flex out that potential and see how much i could fill this little doll up with, and lo and behold, i rp him today with extensive amounts of development poured into him with love. to put it simply, there was so much untapped potential that i wanted to share with the world, to show geno the love and in-depth exploration that he deserved, to show that he was more than what he was given.

What keeps your inspiration going?  —  chattering about mario lore with pals, whether it relates to geno or not, reading, watching shows or videos that remind me of him, learning more about cosmology and the universe we live in (and boy, i’ve learned a lot of neat stuff!), revisiting my childhood (the 90′s) since it’s very geno-appropriate, drawing The Boye, literally anything to do with playing, watching, or doing ANYTHING with smrpg/paper mario 64/smg1&2, and probs a lot more. i’ve got a lot of fuel in me for this guy lol.

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO / I SINCERELY HOPE I DO? [ on one hand, of course i hope that i do! on the other hand, i mean... nintendo and square don’t do jack for him, so i think almost anyone can do him more justice than they have, lbr. it’s... not hard... :’) ]

Do you frequently write headcanons?  YES / NO / SORT OF? [ ok i gotta just copy-paste what blue said in her response because my god, she nailed it: “you know when you have a concept and in your own mind you can see it clearly, without fuzziness or confusion, but you can’t seem to put it clearly into words without it turning into an essay because you need to connect all the other points that’s in the single concept you envisioned? yea.” basically, this but in spades, because i have a huge amount of headcanon and lore that i’ve either not gotten around to writing about yet or am purposefully staving off (wink wink). i have written a lot for him, though! it’s just... comparatively so little to what all i’ve thought up over-time. ]

Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES / NO [ not! often! enough!!! ]

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO [ all i know is fine dining, breathing, and adorkable starman. ]

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO / SORT OF? [ funny enough, i’m pretty damn confident in my portrayal, albeit still very modest. i mean, i am at least confident that i give depth to a character that had so little, and i feel like geno is just... real. (not literally ofc i mean like, he FEELS realistic.) he’s got character perks, character flaws, strengths, weaknesses, personal issues, ongoing obstacles, relatable themes where appropriate, interests, knowledge (or lack thereof), daily routines... i could go on. if nothing else, i at least feel good about trying to make geno feel less like some exposition character and more like a person. considering he wants to achieve personhood that most of his kind never gets to find, it’s oddly poetic lmao. ]

Are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO. [ eehhhhh. i mean, i guess it’s fiiiIIINE, but i often feel like i lack a certain pizzazz, something that’ll keep people interested and intrigued with what i write, giving enough material for them to adequately bounce back. on the same token, i like to babble with my prose, so i often worry about going on and on and on way too much. stale, quantity over quality, substance-less writing is what i fuss over the most. ;; ]

Are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO. / SORTA. [ sensitive to empathy and other peoples’ emotions, yes. i’m an insanely empathetic person, and i have a lot of love to give. that said, with only few exceptions, i have a pretty iron-clad skin. sometimes, i daresay it’s to the point that i often misjudge what other people can take, and i feel i can end up being too harsh and forward. that being said, it is also a good thing at times. harsh or not, if i feel a certain way about something, i make that shit known and i make it known as loud as it necessarily should be. i don’t beat around the bush; rather, if i have a beef, i will make that beef known. consequently, if i have love to give, you damn well better be ready to swim in a pool of hearts and your favorite kind of cookie (if applicable). ]

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?  —  as long as it isn’t complaints with lack of substance/reasoning, yes! even if i may not always agree and may take things with a grain of salt, i am insanely receptive to criticism, even over the pickiest things. it’s something i’ve grown used to due to prior rp venues being particularly harsh. i will never throw a fit or act like a child if there is something i could do better with geno. in fact, there always will be! i’m not perfect, and i love to hear about ways i can improve and do better. it’s paramount in a hobby like this.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?  —  LET’S-A FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?  —  sure, i’d love to know! it can make for some neat conversation!! c:

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?  —  that’s a’ight. i’m sure there are things about my geno that won’t resonate with everyone, especially given he’s a very sentimental character for old fogies like me lol. as long as there is no disrespect thrown this way, it’s all good. this stuff is subjective, after all.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?  —  oh, a lot of people really hate geno lol, but i’m guessing this means personal portrayal only. in such a case, i would be curious as to why, admittedly, but i acknowledge that i am not owed anyone’s reasoning. if they really, absolutely hate my geno, then it’s their prerogative, whether they want to give a reason why or not. again, it’s all good unless immaturity and disrespect rears its head. i won’t tolerate that and will ignore any such behavior.

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?  —  sure, it happens to the best of us!

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?   —  i’d like to think that i am! i’ve often had people tell me that i’m very nice and mature, but of course, i have no right to say how i come off to other people. that is not in my territory to judge, only theirs. that being said, it’s not easy to upset me or anger me, and i’m more often willing to listen and pal around than not. i’m the living embodiment of (shrug). i am just (shrug).