#i meant to do this along the other starter calls i got

[oc-menagerie-archived]

@matrotas-muse-hub (Shay starter for you!)

In an oasis, a tan cat Vastaya was swimming around and cooling off from the hot desert sun. She decided to take a small break and lean on the shore when she heard rustling in the bushes. “Hm? Who’s there? Have you come to cool off?” she called out, wondering if they were another traveler like herself.

[galvanizedfriend]

Klaroline Fanfiction Masterlist

It's been a minute since I last updated my masterlist so I decided to go ahead and start a new one. Yokan // ▪ Multi-chapters

. The Wolf Series [I, II, III and Outtakes - Incomplete] When Caroline wakes up shackled, powerless and very far away from Mystic Falls, she knows she's in serious trouble. But when a woman named Sophie Deveraux reveals the reason why she's been kidnapped and taken to New Orleans, she realizes things are far worse than she could've ever imagined.

[The Originals rewriting where Caroline is a witch and gets pregnant with Klaus' child. Seasons 1, 2 and 3 complete, season 4 coming.]

. Vice and Virtue [6/6 - Complete] As the second son of a Duke, Klaus Mikaelson has the means and all the time in the world to indulge in every manner of wild activity with very little respect for the regiment of polite society. That is until his brother decides he's had enough of his vulgar ways and gives him an ultimatum. Caroline Forbes is a young debutante in search of true love and adventure. Except her aunt wishes for her to marry a somber Viscount who's already buried three wives. When their paths cross, they realize they might yet strike a deal that could satisfy their relatives and benefit them both.

[AH Regency!AU inspired by Bridgerton and a dozen other period novels I have been reading lately.]

. Pedulum [2/2 - Complete] This is what Klaus Mikaelson knows: death isn't the end for him. From the moment he is brought into the world to his final shuddering breath, Klaus' life is pretty much the same as everyone else's. The difference lies in what happens after he dies: he goes right back to the beginning, a child in London with the memory of dozens of lives lived before. Nothing ever really changes, including the fact that no matter how hard he tries, he can never save Caroline Forbes' life for too long.

[AH/soulmates!AU with a slight magical twist. Technically a one-shot, chapter 2 is just an alternate ending.]

. We'll Always Have New Orleans [3/15 - Incomplete] Caroline wakes up in a world where everything looks exactly the same, only nothing really is. For starters, she's no longer a vampire, and no one else in Mystic Falls has ever heard of witches, vampires or werewolves - no one except for Klaus, who woke up just as human and twice as angry about it. Their search for answers and a way out takes them all the way to New Orleans, and Caroline could never anticipate how much this crazy fake world was about to alter her reality forever.

[Canon-divergence!AU. Set right after TVD 4x18.]

. Speed Dating [3/4 - Incomplete] Klaus is having a bad month, so Caroline decides it's a great idea to drag him along to a round of Speed Dating. Other men in the room do not approve.

AH/AU fluff that was inspired by an episode of House (yes, it is fluff, I promise).

. Gasoline [2/2 - Complete] "He doesn't apologize, of course he doesn't. He doesn't care. He calls everyone love. It's not meant to mean anything. Except it did, once, and it makes Caroline's stomach churn away inside, as she feels Klaus crawling underneath her skin like he never left at all. I've still got you."

AH/Band!AU. Two years after Klaus walked out on his band - on her -, Caroline finds herself in her least favorite place on earth - New Orleans. She really did try to stay away from him, escaping an event just to keep off his radar. He finds her anyway.

. Like It's Christmas Again [2/2 - Complete] As Christmas approaches, Caroline Forbes, a New York-based event planner, is sent to a quaint small town in Virginia to organize their holiday festival. But her plans are momentarily hindered by the presence of Klaus Mikaelson, the Mayor's brother and a grumpy billionaire lacking in any holiday spirit, who's in town to close the sale of his family's manor - the charming estate she was hoping to use as a venue.

[AKA that time when I committed Christmas fic. AU/AH inspired by a Hallmark movie, I kid you not.]

. Spin [5/5 - Complete] Since she was seven years old, Caroline Forbes has been preparing herself to become President of the United States. But before she gets to the Oval Office, she needs to win the election for senior student president at the prestigious Saint Sebastian High - which would be in the bag if only goddamn Klaus Mikaelson hadn't decided to run against her.

[AH/AU lovers-to rivals-to-lovers The Politician!AU where everyone takes school elections way more seriously than they should.]

. How Far I'd Go [2/2 - Complete for now] Set in TVD S6/TO S2. Unable to control Caroline after she turns her humanity off, Stefan reaches out to the only person he can think of for help.

[Slices of moments of Klaus in Mystic Falls while Caroline has her humanity off.] ▪ One-shots

. The Sound of Settling Klaus hates his job at Mikaelson & Sons. He hates wearing a suit. He also hates his brothers constantly butting into his life. Everything will be better once he gets his much desired transfer to the New York branch. Caroline Forbes is the owner of Mystic Café, and when Klaus accidentally wanders into her coffee shop, his whole perspective changes. [AH/Coffee Shop!AU where Klaus is a lawyer. Fluffity Fluff. Lots of Mikaelsons and some Carenzo friendship.] . The Witch Queen Caroline always knew she was different. She was keyed into her own otherness very early on. Strange things happened around the Forbes women. Her mother never really had to spell it out to her, give it a name. Caroline could always sort of feel it, and then at some point the feeling blossomed into comprehension, and comprehension hardened into fact. And with that came an altogether different kind of certainty: this was not a secret she'd be able to keep forever. One day, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, everyone would find out. And when they did, they would come for her.

. Worst Things Have Happened Klaus Mikaelson is a prince with a very dark secret that threatens to destroy his family's legacy. Caroline Forbes is a sorceress whose job is to make sure his secret remains buried. But would it hurt him to put some clothes on? [Royal!AU, with a magical twist.] . The Unexpected Grace of Falling Apart The whole incident was bound to go down as a funny anecdote to be shared among friends, a Oh, you think you've had the worst hook-up ever? Hold my beer kind of story. Provided, of course, that she never had to see him ever and could just wipe him out of her life and memory for good. Given that they live in different time zones, it shouldn't be too much of a hassle.

That is precisely why Caroline is livid when she emerges from the arrivals area at Richmond airport to find Douchebag, in the flesh - sunglasses indoors and all, like the proper jerk that he is - holding up a sign that readsClarisse.

[AH/AU. It's Tyler's wedding weekend and Caroline is back in Mystic Falls for the first time after the most traumatic and depressing year of her life. And it's about to get even worse as she's made to share breathing space with Klaus, The Worst Guy Ever. Except they might have to join forces to save the wedding, and to the discovery that things might not be what the seem. As Caroline teeters on the edge of a breakdown she'd been trying very hard to conceal, an unexpected savior appears to help her through the haze.]

. love, the monster's got me now [Canon compliant. Set in TVD S03E09 Homecoming.]

"Don't run," he says calmly, sounding almost bored, but with a clear warning. "I'm in the mood for a chase. Little spoiler: you can't outrun me." His eyebrows twitch up when he finally turns around to face her, lips curling into an amused grin. "Tyler's girl," he states, gesturing towards the now empty yard. "You missed out on the celebrations, I’m afraid."

[Or: the missing Klaroline scene between "There's your pretty little girlfriend, Caroline" and "There's a whole world out there waiting for you." Klaus and Caroline meet after Homecoming.]

. When It's Gone Suddenly, Caroline hates how nice the bed feels. How soft the pillows are. How smooth and cool and expensive those goddamn sheets are against her skin. She hates the giddiness in her belly, like she's a stupid schoolgirl when she's not allowed to be one anymore. She hates how right the space between Klaus' arms felt, how easily she molded against him. His lips were as full and as soft as they looked, but his hands were gentler and more reverent than they had any right to be, and Caroline hates it. Hates it, hates it, hates it. She hates that it suits her, hates that she wants it, hates that none of it is hers to keep.

[Set after TVD S04E19 Pictures of You. Caroline hears about Klaus' impending departure after a mysterious letter and decides to have some words.] . Wishing Each Sigh Might Be the Last The first time she sees him, Caroline thinks he's an angel.

[Set in 1800s New Orleans. As Caroline lies dying, she prays for God to send help or end her torment and save her soul. She thinks an angel has come for her. But he's no angel at all.] . Feel the Madness Closing In Set in TO S3. Caroline is in New Orleans when Lucien and the Ancestors make a move against the Mikaelson family - and they know exactly who to target in order to get to Klaus. Paranoia sets in, sending him to a very dark place, and Caroline finally learns the price of being loved so profoundly by a monster. . Issues When Klaus' Hollywood career takes a down turn after a nasty divorce and a viral mug shot, his manager decides his life is not yet miserable enough, bringing in a PR company famous for its high-profile damage control cases.

[AH!AU where Klaus is a problematic movie star and Caroline is a PR agent with no time for his BS.] . Urban Legend "I hate myself for saying this, but I have to agree with Little Miss Sunshine," Caroline cuts in. "This is Whitmore. Nothing ever happens here. Least of all a possession that leads to a massacre of slasher movie proportions."

"Thank you, love," Klaus returns brightly. "Very flattering to be validated by you."

"Bite me, Klaus."

"Find me later, after my shift, and we can see to it," comes the shameless rejoinder.

[Or: Caroline tries to navigate life in college having the worst roommate ever, a douchebag who cannot take a hint and a nosy journalist whom she's definitely not attracted to. Never in a million years.]

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐎𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 5.6k

chapter summary: With Sarah at a sleepover, you, Joel and Tommy get together late to paint the now empty room, but with a distressing call from Sarah, Joel leaves to pick her up. You're just surprised as him when Sarah asks for you specifically. Later on, you accidentally see something that was meant for Asha's eyes only.

warnings: sarah gets her period for the first time so first-time period talk, nude photo (joel's), female masturbation (reader), feelings of loneliness (reader)

Chapter Four || Chapter Six

It’s been two weeks since Asha became a part of Joel’s life. They were more similar to what he initially had thought. For starters, neither of them talked about their families or upbringings. It was from Tommy that Joel learned that her parents still resided in India and that she came here alone, unsupported for the most part. 

Joel, however, didn’t really have much family to talk about even if he wanted to. He only had Tommy and Sarah. He mentioned them a total of two times; one because Sarah got sick at school and he had to go and get her, meaning he had to cancel his lunch with Asha. And the second was when he showed up late one night with a black eye due to Tommy getting under the skin of the wrong crowd. That night he had thought of going to you instead, but then decided against it. The next day he learned that you cleaned up Tommy’s wounds— it shouldn’t have made his heart twinge with jealousy, but it did.

They used each other, Joel and Asha, at least that was what he felt, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. They enjoyed each other's company, had fun together, slept together. She made him aware of things that he wasn’t even aware of and vice versa. Asha never had the desire to talk about the future or asked to come over. Her apartment was just fine, and they often met up there instead of anywhere else. She never asked about his personal life. 

But that all changed as Joel was driving her from work to her home. 

“Tommy talks a lot about this girl,” she muses, smiling lightly. “Your neighbor I think? He came and ask me for room decor tips, it was cute.” 

“That’s the one,” Joel answers, shifting in his seat. “I knew he wasn’t clever enough to think of all of that on his own.” 

“He did come up with the color himself, so it wasn’t all me.” 

“He’s been braggin’ a lot, it’s annoyin’” 

She presses a hand on his thigh, squeezing, she drags her fingers up the seam of his jeans. “Come on, Joel. He’s just happy. I think she’s good for him.” 

“They’re both good for each other.” he nods, ignoring her hand resting right below his pelvis. “I’m actually heading there after dropping you off, you wanna come? I’m sure she’ll appreciate more female company.” 

She laughs and pulls her hand back to her lap, “Just because we both have vaginas doesn’t mean we’ll get along,” Asha hums, pulling her bag up from between her legs. “However, I do think we would get along. Sadly, I have an assignment due and need to finish at least most of it before you come over.” 

“Ah that’s right,” he pouts, annoyed at himself. “Sorry I forgot.” 

“It’s okay, I forget half the things you do.” 

“Is that normal for couples?”

She mulls over his question for a while, lips moving from side to side, a tick that she did whenever she was cooking up something clever. Then she stills, a wide smile spreading across her face. 

“I think for us it is.” 

Joel couldn't agree more, to be honest. He taps his thumbs against the steering wheel, pulling into her drive-thru. She quickly presses her lips into his cheekbone and he returns in like. Before she leaves, Asha’s hand stills at the handle, briefly turning to him. 

“By the way did you do that thing I asked you?” 

“Fuck,” he heaves out, letting his head drop. “I did, but I forgot it at home. I’ll bring it later tonight, promise.” 

“I’ll be waiting with bated breath, Joel Miller,” she grins. “Who’s looking after Sarah?” 

“She’s staying at her friends' tonight. Girls' night. She forced me to bake brownies.” 

“Never pinned you down for a chef.” 

“I’m not. We burned the first tray.” 

You're feeling unreasonably happy. It’s a welcomed feeling, a soft tingle that starts from your toes, blossoms across your skin, and ends at your lips, forming a sheepish smile. You’re leaning against the doorframe looking at the now-empty room. You and Tommy had spread newspaper all over the floor, both of you wearing your scrappiest of clothes. 

Tommy opens a can of paint and starts mixing it with a wooden stick. 

“What are you doing that for?” 

Tommy turns to you, a grin on his face. "Well sweetheart, we can't just slap this paint on the walls. We need to mix it thoroughly to get the perfect consistency. This ain’t like one of your paintings."

You tilt your head, your eyebrow raising, an amused smile blossoms over your lips. "First of all, we do need consistency too. And what's the perfect consistency to paint a wall? It’s a wall, shouldn’t be that hard."

Tommy dips the wooden stick into the can and lifts it out, letting the excess paint drip back into the can. "It should be smooth and creamy, not too thick and not too thin. You don't want it to be runny, or it will drip all over the place, but if it's too thick, it won't spread evenly."

He starts stirring the paint in a circular motion, his wrist moving in a steady rhythm. The sound of the stick scraping against the bottom of the can fills the room, creating a soothing hum.

"As you mix the paint," he continues, "you should periodically lift the stick out of the can and let the paint drip back in. That way, you can see if it's the right consistency. If it's too thick, you can add a bit of water to thin it out, and if it's too thin, you can add a bit more paint."

You nod, taking mental notes. "Got it. Smooth and creamy.” 

Tommy grins. "Exactly, creamy is preferable. It responds better."

Your cheeks heat up at the response. Something about the way he rolls his tongue over the words make goosebumps rise on your skin, a tender shiver coursing through your body. With a soft shudder, you wrap your arms around yourself. 

“When do you think Joel is coming over?” 

“Don’t know. I think he’s with Asha.” 

“Asha,” you repeat, no emotion behind the words but still, you feel the corner of your lips quivering. “Do they get along well?” 

Tommy shrugs and slowly gets up, “I guess. Joel isn’t really the type to kiss and tell you know? And Asha…well, I guess it’s safe to say she’s pretty much the same.” 

“Basically perfect for each other.” 

“I mean, I probably wouldn’t go that far,” Tommy answers, scratching the back of his head. “Being so similar ain’t always a good thing.” 

Silence follows and you can vaguely hear a car pulling in next door, must be Joel. Thoughts wildly swirling in your head, you want to take this opportunity to ask about Sarah’s mother, something Joel never talks about, and also something Sarah never mentiones. You lick your lips, nails digging into your forearms. 

“Does it bother you?” 

The question takes you by surprise, you blink before answering. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Does it bother you that he’s with someone?” 

You try to keep your shock to a minimum. Tommy’s gaze reminds you of the yellow gaze of a hawk, piecing, overly observant. You swallow and let out a laugh with a desperate need to lighten the heavy air circling you both. You shake your head, walking up to Tommy, you give him a gentle pat with the back of your hand. 

“Why would that bother me? I’m just making conversation.” 

Tommy’s shoulders relax, dropping substantially. You’re surprised you hadn’t noticed how tense he was before. 

“Sorry, I was just thinkin’ too much.” 

Before you can answer a loud knock startles you both. “Must be Joel. 

“You go, I’ll open the rest of the cans.” 

Joel looks out of breath when you open the door for him, his chest heaves and he staggers forward, bracing himself by holding both knees. 

“Didn’t mean to be late,” he says. “But I brought whiskey.” 

“Is that why you went to your place first?” 

He closes the door behind him, “You heard that?” 

“Saw the lights.” 

You notice a magazine in his hands but fail to see the title, it’s rolled up. In the other he has the bottle and you take it from him, heading to the kitchen, he follows. 

“I also had to pick up somethin’ I promised Asha. I’m meetin’ up with her after this.” 

Your chest tightens and you roll your shoulders to ground yourself before reaching to get three glasses. “Isn’t that going to be late?” 

“I ain’t five.” he answers with a low chuckle. “But yeah it’s late but she has work to do and I promised you lot I’d be here.” 

“You didn’t have to come. You can go.” 

You wince at your own wording. It definitely came out harsh, no question about it. Taking a deep inhale, you feel the coolnes of the kitchen counter under your fingers, holding on to it. Joel’s presence looms near, his hand touching the small of your back. He’s not holding the magazine anymore. 

“Are you alright darlin’?” he asks with a hint of worry. He drags his fingers up your spine, a sudden heat coils in your stomach. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m happy to be here, you know that.” 

“I do, sorry,” you mutter, fingers grasping two glasses before pulling away. “Tommy’s in the room, making the paint all creamy and stuff.” 

“He’s doing what now?” 

When you look at him all the happiness from before comes surging back, he has the most horrified, flabbergasted expression you’ve ever seen. The first hints of laughter come out in short bubbles, and as Joel continues to stare, you burst, loud, chest-rattling sounds of joy clawing out of your lungs. His shocked expression shifts into a happy one, a grin playing at the side of his lips. 

“I keep tellin’ him to stop sayin’ that,” he clicks his tongue. “I keep tellin’ him ‘saying smooth is enough’ he never listens.” 

“It did make me laugh a lot though, so maybe it’s not so bad that he says that.” 

“If it made you laugh it definitely ain’t a bad thing,” he answers, taking the bottle and heading toward the room. “I love hearin’ you laugh.” 

You force your legs to move despite wanting to stop and stare behind him as he disappears through the hall. First the kiss on the cheek, and now this. Blood pools under your fingernails, confusion makes your head spin—but you still continue to walk. The thoughts that began to form quickly disappear when you enter the room, you see Joel leaning over Tommy. 

“Why do you still use the word creamy?” he asks, hands in the air. “Why?” 

“It’s a fun word,” Tommy answers, eyes finding yours mid sentence and winks. 

Your mind races but you smile anyway. Tommy’s bizarre question from earlier must’ve riled me up, you think, stepping inside. There’s no logical reason why Joel dating Asha would bother you, he doesn’t belong to you, hell, you’re not even that close. You’re just acting up because him and Tommy are the first friends you made when you moved here. Just some friendly overprotectiveness, that’s all, you would act the same if Tommy was dating someone. 

You nod as a response to your thoughts, yes, you definitely would act the same. 

“Are you possessed or somethin’ what’s going on with you?” 

You flinch at the question and turn to Tommy, he has that familiar lopsided smile, eyes amused. 

“I’m good, I was just thinking of something.” 

You don’t miss the way Joel looks at you, worry crossing his face, but you act as if you didn’t see him. Taking a deep breath, you slap your hands together. 

“So, where do we start?”

The room heavily smells of paint. Toxicity is slowly inhaled through your nostrils, burns your throat, and swirls in your lungs. You feel slightly queasy. Joel is sitting across from you with his legs outstretched and hands palms pressed into the newspaper-covered floors to keep himself upright. Tommy has his legs crossed, he leans forward to grab a piece of chocolate. And you. You have his jacket thrown above your shoulders, the night chill settling easier now that the room is empty and the walls wet with paint. 

While Tommy leans to grab the piece, his shirt rolls up his waist, you notice a tiny, crooked bullseye tattoo with two circles and a dot. Fascinated by this new discovery, you poke it, and, essentially, him. He flinches, giving you an almost offended look as he turns around. 

“The hell are you doin’?” he covers the patch of skin with his hand. 

“You have a tattoo.” 

It’s a statement. Joel gives you two a crooked grin as he takes a sip from his glass. Tommy raises an eyebrow, a small dimple forming on his right cheek as he smiles. 

“So? Just because I have a tat doesn’t mean you can poke me.” 

“Sorry, I just didn’t know you had one.” your lips crack a smile. “It’s cute.” 

You notice the soft flush coloring his cheeks, but you swiftly ignore it when Joel speaks, his voice low and scratchy from the late hour— and from inhaling the paint, probably. 

“Tommy had the bright idea to be a tattooist when we were in high school. He begged for a kit every year for his birthday, and one year I actually managed to get together a bit of cash to buy him one of them shit stick and poke sets.” 

“Awww, that’s adorable,” you grin, playfully shoving your shoulder into Tommy’s. The younger Miller shook his head, averting his eyes from his brother. “I’m assuming you got a tattoo too, right Joel?” 

“No.” 

Tommy scoffs at the sudden denial, he accusatorily points the piece of chocolate at his brother, then shoves it into his mouth, “Come on now, don’t be shy. Show off my masterpiece.” 

“Some masterpiece,” he grunts, rolling his eyes. “But fine.” 

You’re too stunned to actually notice the small patch of inked skin when he lifts his shirt, your mouth dry as sandpaper. He also has a crooked bullseye, a bit darker in shade compared to Tommy’s. The shape is right above his ribs, to the side of his torso. Some part of you wants to touch it as well, to follow the round pattern with the tips of your fingers but you fight the urge. 

“Cool,” you say unintelligently and he releases the shirt, covering his skin once more. You turn your head to Tommy. “Why did you stop?” 

He shrugs, “I don’t know. I kind of just did.” 

“Could be because you decided to dive head first into a war.” Joel says, with a fresh sounding bitterness. 

Tommy’s shoulders raise, his brown eyes a shade darker with the glare pointed directly at his brother. Family is never easy, no matter how close or loving. You know that Tommy is riddled with regret much like your own brother, though at least Tommy had the sense to get out before falling in completely. You place a hand on Tommy’s thigh and squeeze, your heart breaking instantly at the way his eyes soften when he looks at you. 

“If you decide to ever get back into it, I’d be happy to draw you up some designs.” 

“If that means you’re gonna get back into drawin’ again sure, I’ll get back into tattooing. I just need to find that old set.” 

“You’re not using me to experiment again,” Joel grins. “Just sayin’” 

Getting back into drawing. Seriously how long has it been? Has it been long enough that it was even obvious to Tommy and Joel? You had done a couple of sketches, not really anything riveting. The end product always resembled either a dark hole or a dark room of some kind. It was like a manifestation of your thoughts, complicated, scratchy, overlapping. A sea of gruesome lines. 

For you, painting has always been about expressing yourself in ways you couldn’t imagine. It could be a purple cat staring into a well. A city in ruins standing at the edge of a leaf. Sometimes it could be as simple as a girl in a hallway, threading upon a red carpet. Right now is a perfect time to express yourself. The pain, the void. But you can’t bring yourself to lift a brush or a pen. It’s too much. No image is clear enough for you to put on a canvas. Despite how complicated it looks, you feel that in the end art should be simple to make. Your hand should move in fluid motions, it shouldn’t be a struggle against waves of fear. 

“Hey,” Tommy touches your cheek, for some reason, you lean into the touch and the same fingers slide to the back of your head, giving your scalp a pleasant scratch. “Are you good?” 

“I was just thinking,” you answer, eyes momentarily finding Joel. He looks stiff as a rock. “I miss painting.” 

“Then paint,” Joel says. “What’s stopping you?” 

“Myself. I didn’t have this problem before but now I feel stuck. Everything comes to me all at once and all that combined results in an empty canvas.” 

“What if we gave you something to draw?” he asks, earning a confused look from both Tommy and yourself. He smooths his thumb over the corner of his lip. “Like, a single thing. Maybe it can ease you in.” 

“Did you have a suggestion?” 

“A butterfly.” 

Your eyes widen at the prospect of it; a creature with beautiful wings, something that could be any shape or size. A tiny thing that was an embodiment of elegance in most cultures. A god in some. You can imagine patterns above fluttering wings; orange, purple, pink. You’re reminded of fairies dancing and leaving behind fairy rings, you see a blue butterfly flying above into a blue sky that is paler in comparison. 

“A butterfly,” you repeat, your lips feeling numb. Only then do you notice that Tommy’s fingers hand slid to your neck, cupping it gently. “Yeah, I can do that.” 

“Sarah loves butterflies,” he remarks as if reminiscing a pleasant memory. “I’m sure she’ll love whatever you make of them.” 

And just like that, a sharp melody cuts through the conversation. Joel looks down at his phone, eyebrows raising with slight surprise and worry. His eyes snap to you both. 

“Speak of the devil,” he says, getting up. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” 

He disappears, leaving you and Tommy alone. Sleep starting to make its way through the cracks of your reserve, you allow yourself to lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. His hand gently glides down from your neck to the small of your back, a comforting touch. 

“Do you like the color?” he whispers. 

You stare up at the ceiling, a soft light lavender gives the room a dream-like state. Your eyes shift back to him, a soft smile tugs at your lips. 

“I do,” you hum. “But I think we should paint one of the walls a nice blue.” 

“Blue?” he asks. “Why blue?” 

“It reminds me of butterflies.” 

You stare blankly at the white door in front of you. Both you and Tommy were taken aback when Joel asked you to come over after he brough Sarah back home. She refused to talk about it. And She asked for you specifically, Joel managed to learn what the issue was then. She’d gotten her period for the first time. 

Which is why you have a pack of pads, painkillers and the last pieces of chocolate. 

To be completely honest, you’re nervous as hell. It’s ridiculous really, considering Sarah is only fourteen years old. But alas, here you are, staring at the door with light filtering through the bottom gap. You’d told Joel to wait downstairs, and Tommy had offered to tidy up the room and throw out the newspapers. Right now, you’re regretting your decision of making Joel wait downstairs. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you knock on the door twice. A weak sound barely reaches your ears. 

“Come in.” 

Sarah’s laying on the bed, curled up into a ball with her back turned to the door. Your throat tightens a bit. You don’t quite remember what your first period was like, but you know it must’ve been rough. It’s not easy to go to the bathroom and suddenly see blood stains all over your underwear. Briefly, you wonder if Joel ever talked to her about it. Did it come as a shock? They teach what periods are in school right? 

Tentative, you make your way to the bed and gently sit at the foot of the bed. You notice her wincing a little. 

“Are you alright?” 

“‘T hurts.” 

“I brought you painkillers,” you inform. “also a bit of chocolate.” 

“I don’t want chocolate.” 

“Tell me what you need then.” 

“It was so humiliating,” she snaps, stretching her legs a bit but still refusing to look at you. “Everyone was there, well the girls, and I didn’t even notice it first. Sally did.” 

You don’t know what entices you to do it, but you place a hand over her ankle. She clams down for a moment, takes a deep breath. She shudders. 

“It was awful,” she chokes up. “They didn’t laugh or anything and it makes me even more upset that my first reaction was to call my dad.” 

“That’s normal,” you answer, rubbing soothing circles into her clothed skin. “These things are difficult, your hormones are all over the place—” 

“Gross.” 

You can’t help but chuckle at that, “Yeah it’s pretty gross. I’m just trying to say that it’s normal to call your dad and I’m sure your friends will understand.” 

“You’re too optimistic.” 

“Am I?” you tease. “First time I’ve heard of it.” 

Sarah sits up and pulls her knees close to her chest. She seems calmer now, more level-headed like her usual self. She holds your gaze, you could almost see a reflection of yourself in them. She’d been crying. Joel’s heart must’ve shattered into a million pieces. 

“Is it always going to hurt this bad?” 

“Kinda, yeah. I’m not going to try and bullshit you by saying it’s a beautiful thing. It’s not. But,” you offer her the last bit of chocolate, and she takes it with a small smile before plopping it on her tongue. “You’ll learn how to navigate it better. Just know that whatever you’re feeling, no matter the age, is always okay.” 

“So I can still call my dad when I’m like…Fifty?” 

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to pick you up wherever you are.” 

She snorts, “If he’s alive.” 

“That man has the stubbornness of a mule. He’ll come back as a zombie if he has to.” 

“That would actually be kinda cool.” 

You smile as she thinks about it, her eyes looking up to the ceiling. Meanwhile, you take a peek at her clock, 2 AM. Time sure does fly. 

“You should take a shower,” you say, turning back to Sarah. “And here, I brought you some pads. Do you want me to show you how to use it?” 

She shakes her head, “I’m good. Thanks by the way…I…appreciate it.”

“I’m here whenever you need me. I’m only a knock away.” 

“Isn’t that supposed to be a phone call away?” 

“I don’t think that fits the whole neighbor theme.” 

Before you leave, you notice a butterfly hanging from her window. A small smile touches your lips. 

It’s blue. 

“Is she okay?” 

You’re not at all surprised when you see Joel with his head between his hands, elbows painfully digging into the kitchen counter. The circles under his eyes seem a shade darker, the white of his eyes stained with red. 

“She’s alright don’t worry. She going to take a shower now, and use the pads I gave her. I also brought her painkillers that she might want to take before bed,” you had unknowingly brought the box down with you. You place it in front of Joel, his gaze drops. His lips move slightly as he silently reads the brand. “There isn’t much in there you should buy another one tomorrow.” 

“Alright,” he answers, letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’ll buy you a box too.” 

“No need, you’ve already done a lot for me. Helping your daughter navigate the wonders of womanhood is the least I could do.” you answer with a heaping amount of sarcasm in your tone. 

“I’d be lost without you, neighbor.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you grin and rest your hands on top of the counter as well. “You could’ve asked Asha to talk to her if I wasn’t around.” 

His face falls, a sudden chill settling around you both. He shakes his head, the crease between his brows deep. “She specifically asked for you. Besides the thing with Asha—” 

His words come to a sudden halt as if he doesn’t know how to describe the situation. Tommy had said that they were similar in character, you wonder if Asha is better at expressing her thoughts, you can’t imagine two people having the same struggle being together. 

Joel suddenly takes your hands into his own, eliciting a soft gasp from the back of your throat. 

“She asked for you,” he repeats again. “And I wouldn’t trust anyone else with a matter this sensitive.” 

His hands are warm but his fingertips are cold. With an overwhelming need to touch, you smooth your thumb over the mountains of his knuckles, dipping between the valleys and climbing uphill. He seems to have the same need. You can see the turmoil in his eyes as he leans closer, lips an inch away, he holds your gaze. A moment worth painting, you think, the suspense, the aching need, to be forced apart. Unlike you, Joel doesn’t explore the depths of your skin, so you continue to do so for the both of you. 

Your breath is lodged in your throat, a lump. You turn over his hand, tracing the lifelines and vanished marks of his skin. His pulse is fast under the pads of your fingers, the vein like a river overflowing across his forearm. You stop at the wrist, only your eyes allowed to continue the journey. 

Staring at his skin, visions of what Sarah’s mother must’ve looked like flash before your eyes. You wonder if she saw the same things that you did, you wonder what possessed her to leave all this behind—the scarred skin, the soft voice, the dark brown eyes, the daughter, the home, the life. 

Then you’re abundantly made aware of another’s presence when your eyes follow the slope of his right shoulder and see a darkened mark on his neck. Asha has been with him more intimately, you wonder what she sees when she looks at him. Is it the same as you? Does she see the sadness lurking under his skin? The worry of never being able to be enough for those around him? Does she understand what he feels? 

Do you? 

“I should go,” you exclaim, pulling away your hands like they’ve been burned. “Let me know if she needs anything else.” 

You’re halfway to the door when you feel his fingers circling your wrist, not enough to physically hold you but enough to make his presence known. You hear the words spilling from his lips ‘wait’ he says, ‘let me walk you over’ but it’s too late, you’re out the door, throwing yourself into the chill of the night. 

It’s too much, it’s too sudden, it’s too bizarre. 

Your fingertips are still tingling with the sensation of his skin underneath yours, the soft hairs, the tiny bumps littered over. It reminds you of the smooth feeling of oil over canvas, all you want to do is press your palms and spread your fingers, touching him, you want to feel everything. 

Tommy’s waiting on the porch, he gives you a look. “Is Sarah alright?” 

“She’s fine,” you say, a bit breathless. “She’s…yeah she’s going to be fine.” 

“Good,” he nods. “Anyway I should head back home, I cleared up the newspapers and I’ll come back for the cans tomorrow.” 

“Okay.” 

His mind seems to be whirring because he doesn’t notice how slowly you’re speaking, he doesn’t notice the frantic beating of your heart. Tommy nods to himself, and leans in, you feel the brush of his lips against your ear. 

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart.” 

His lips are on your cheek, soft and wet. He smells of cigarettes and paint, but something sweet lingers below the surface. Your heart drops, your stomach churns. The feeling disappears as quickly as it came. Before you can say anything, he’s already at the end of the three steps you have. 

“Goodnight,” Tommy calls out. 

You watch like a deer in headlights as the car moves away, the red light slowly disappearing into the distance. You touch where he had kissed. It wasn’t the first time, but it feels different. It reminds you of when Joel kissed you, a similar feeling. The only difference is that instead of stopping time, you feel like you’re drowning in it.

Then you realize. 

Tommy has feelings for you. 

You clearly have feelings for Joel. 

And you think Joel might have feelings for you too. 

Your fingers twitch, butterflies flutter wildly both in your stomach and in your head. 

You head inside. 

You trudge into the bedroom, the scent of wet paint clinging to your skin like a suffocating blanket. You had brough along with you the magazine Joel had left on the coffee table. Sitting on the bed, you flip through the pages, but the content is dull, littered with construction jargon that is foreign to you. 

Just as you're about to give up on the magazine, a photograph falls out from between the pages, landing on your lap. A photograph, you deduce, picking it up from your lap. It feels fresh, glossy, and slightly uncomfortable to the touch. You gaze at the image, and it takes a moment for your brain to register what you're seeing.

Every ounce of blood is drained from your face, all that heat pooling between your legs. your eyes go wide. 

It’s Joel. 

Half of his face is out of frame and he’s shirtless but you recognize him. Saliva floods your mouth. It’s not a very neatly taken picture, probably time adjusted so he could pose, which explains the slight blur of the background. His jeans hang low on his hips, unbuttoned, and his fingers disappear beneath the waistband, hinting at what lies beneath.

You trace the way his muscles are firm under his skin, the softness of his stomach, the faint trail of hair leading down to his navel. 

The faint sight of the bullseye tattoo on his ribs solidifies to you that this is indeed Joel. You’re lightheaded. When he said he stopped by home to pick up something for Asha you hadn’t realized that this would be it, a suggestive, nearly nude, photo. Now you just feel stupid for assuming he could be into you, clearly, he and Asha are both comfortable with each other enough for stuff like this. 

You continue to stare, the blood rush loud in your ears. You memorize every curve, every little detail of his body. The small scars littered across his chest, the unsure hint of a smile that’s mostly hidden, the pebbled nipples due to the cool air of the room. You want to see what lies under his pants, you want to see the rest of him and engrave that into memory. You want his body to burn yours, make you into something beautiful—make you into art. 

You sneak your hand between your legs, one hand still propping the photo up. You never actually masturbated to a picture before, mostly videos or just your own imagination. There’s something…interesting about it. Your imagination is more vivid somehow as you look at the picture, you can almost feel the warmth of his body blanketing yours, those thick fingers circling your clit and slipping inside. 

A soft moan breaks from your lips. You feel blood heating your cheeks, your skin incredibly warm and head dizzy from staring at him. You imagine having him in your mouth, your tongue teasing that sensitive spot right under the head of his cock. You think of the sounds he’d make, how guttural they would be. 

You arch your back as you imagine his thick cock pressing into you, he pulls you closer to him. His hips move in a circular motion, pushing deeper and deeper into you as you moan in pleasure. His hands grasp your hips and he pulls you closer.

Your eyes flutter open as you imagine his lips on yours, tasting the sweat that is dripping from your skin. He flicks his tongue, exploring your mouth and sending sparks throughout your body. His hands move up your back, slowly tracing your spine until he reaches your shoulders. You feel his hands slide up around your neck as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss.

Your breath hitches as you feel the coarse hairs at the base of his cock rub against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You reach your hands around his back, pulling him even closer as his hips continue to move against yours. Your pleasure builds, and soon you let out a loud moan as you feel yourself cresting over the edge.

You imagine yourself collapsing against him, panting softly as the pleasure slowly ebbs away from your body. You feel the imaginary warmth of his embrace still surrounding you. It’s painful almost. Feeling him when he’s not here. Your heart hurts, chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. You take a sharp inhale, shaking your head. 

Tears blur your vision as you place the photo back between the pages of the magazine. 

[the-unconquered-queen]

With Blades 2 coming to an end, I just wanna get it off my chest that I'm really not a fan of how they wrote Nia for a great part of this one, particularly vis-à-vis the way they wrote MC. I know I've been saying some stuff along those lines for ages now, but it hasn't left my mind so now I'm gonna actually get into it.

For starters, I think a lot of the issue with Nia's writing was captured pretty well in the tags of this post, particularly on point 2. Like I've said, Nia unfortunately falls into the category of a Mary Sue in that every "flaw" she's given just serves to elevate her to perfection. Hell, even when corrupted—when a person is supposed to be in their most volatile state—the worst she does is be snarky that first chapter (she is aggressive toward MC at one point before this, but it's neither acknowledged nor repeated later). After that, she is entirely normal, just not as much of a pushover, and while I much preferred shadow!Nia, I do think that this really undermines the whole gravity of corruption and b2's emphasis on shadow-light balance, since shadow!Nia comes off as quite balanced already, especially compared to other corrupted characters we've seen.

But here's the thing, that post that got me thinking is months old, and we have gotten more story since then, and what I have noticed is that Nia does, in fact, have one real flaw in canon, but it's the one flaw she's absolutely not meant to have: Nia in canon can at times come off as self-absorbed. She either makes things about herself or doesn't stop people from doing this, and there are multiple examples of it. There is the instance in Riverbend when MC is taking a moment to finally try to process Kade's capture (which, following their own capture, they never got the chance to process) and Nia derails the conversation and makes it about her own grief and is comforted by MC and Mal. Another example is the moment on Gerhard's ship when she vents about the pressure she's been under and lets MC comfort her without at any point considering that MC might have been under similar pressure.

And don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with a character putting themselves first. But when the book doesn't waste a single chance to tell us that Nia's character is the complete opposite and that she is chronically incapable of not being considerate 25/8, it's quite contradictory. I mean, you can even call out Ethan Ramsey, PB's golden boy, on making things about himself at some point in OH, but because, unlike Ethan, Nia is written for you to consider her super sweet and wholesome and perfect, the Blades MC actually contributes to this by performing mental gymnastics to turn something around to be about Nia.

Which brings me to my final point: Blades 2 pushed MC to the side to revolve around Nia, but MC is exactly the person they meant for Nia to be, by virtue of the dissonance between showing and telling. They tell you that Nia is selfless because she always puts everyone else first. Well, I can and did name examples showing the contrary, meanwhile, MC is the one who was been through the most traumatic ordeal and is constantly checking in on everyone else without expecting and without receiving much of the same courtesy in return, even apologizing to Nia because she was "carrying all that weight on her own", never mind that MC always has the weight of the world on their shoulders. They tell you that Nia is the heart of the party, but they both told and showed us that everything fell apart without MC.

Even some of Nia's most defining character traits, MC has in similar measure. Nia sees the best in everyone? MC can be the #1 believer in Aerin's redemption after all the shit he pulled. Nia is trusting to the point of naivete? MC literally trusted Valax while she outright told them at every turn she would turn on them at the first opportunity, and was genuinely hurt by the betrayal. Miss me with MC calling Nia "our better self".

Every trait that they've gone out of their way to tell you Nia has they've shown twofold in MC, which is why it's so exasperating to me that they reduced MC to the conduct through which other characters' (particularly Nia's) stories get told while their own is an afterthought. I am by no means saying that two people can't have similar traits or that two people can't be good people at the same time, but there is something about praising these traits in Nia when, based on these, MC should be held to a similar standard. Instead, they relegated MC (main. character.) to a supporting character in Nia's story, elevating every trait that MC possesses only in Nia while ignoring them in MC to the point that many scenes felt frustrating to play.

[amywritesthings]

Operation: Battlepass (AKA the Totally Awesome Plan to Play Wingman by Yuuji Itadori) / a Choso x OFC story

After choosing to live together as brothers, Yuuji decides to introduce Choso to the wonderful world of gaming. What he didn't expect is for Choso to fall head over heels for his online friend. Naturally, hijinks must ensue, and the gang comes up with a plan to make this romcom a reality.

word count: 3k (part one of ??) tags: au - canon divergence, fluff, romantic comedy, told in yuuji's pov, ultimate big brother!choso, gaming, online friendshipcredit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

read on ao3 here.

PART ONE: THE INTRODUCTION

disclaimer: this is a very crack slice of life story. everyone's alive. itadori is friends with an adult through online gaming. their dynamic is very much 'you're a kid and i have to protect you from weirdos in gaming lobbies'. iris is inspired by my own older online friends growing up. it's nothing nefarious.

Yuuji Itadori has never been a wingman.

Well — kind of.

If you scratch all of the times that Itadori went along with the ‘Save Megumi’ plan conjured up by the brilliant (and twisted) minds of Gojo-sensei and Kugisaki, then he’s technically never been a wingman.

Come to think of it, he’s never really given the act of dating much thought.

It isn’t like he’s ever had much skin in the game. 

Itadori’s never had a partner, for one.

Fushiguro is smooth enough to flirt without anyone’s help, two.

Kugisaki can be a little intimidating all on her own, three.

So it leaves… well, Itadori to cheer on his perfectly-capable friends as they navigate what it means to be a teenager.

It also leaves him wondering if one day he’ll know the tv-show-butterfly feeling of helping two lonely souls get together.

(He really should focus on his own love life, but given the whole Sukuna ordeal? That’s a mess he hasn’t quite ironed out yet.)

Enter: Choso, his alleged big brother from another mother.

(Or another father? That’s another thing he’s gotta iron out. More at 11.)

Getting a two-bedroom bachelor pad with the guy you only met, like, a few weeks ago wasn't on his year-end bingo card. 

"Really?" If Fushiguro and Nobara question something simultanously, that usually spells danger.

"Yeah!" Itadori exclaims, sipping on his tea. "I mean, why not, right?"

"Wasn't he the guy trying to kill you?" Fushiguro grunts.

"Then he changed his mind on a dime and demanded he protect you with every blood cell in his body?" Nobara adds, lips trembling from her attempt to hide a smile at her pun.

(Neither of the boys catch it.)

Itadori grimaces. "Well, when you put it that way..."

Fushiguro leans back. "Trying to kill you—"

Nobara leans forward. "—to defending you—"

They come together again, and Itadori sinks in his booth.

"—in a few hours."

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Itadori whines. "But it'll be fine. We're great pals and figured it out. He's totally normal now."

So normal that Choso's in the booth at the other end of the restaurant, sipping a coffee black with a newspaper upside-down, waiting to take Itadori and his friends to the shopping district later.

(It's a little weird admittedly, but Itadori thinks it's endearing. He cares!)

So, yeah.

He ditched living at Jujutsu High in order to move in with his brother under the approval of his instructor.

Maybe it was a hasty decision, but Itadori will take the blame on that one.

Call it excitement or stupidity, he doesn’t mind.

After spending a lot of his life wishing he had a sibling of his own, it’s kinda cool to live a brother.

Not even a brother, but a big brother who takes his job very seriously.

For starters, Itadori always gets to order wherever he wants for takeout dinner, which never got to happen back at Jujutsu High.

Fushiguro used to be apathetic about what they’d order, which meant Kugisaki took the liberty in steamrolling every decision.

Now?

Itadori gets to show Choso every single one of his favorite foods and then some.

The guy doesn’t eat much — apparently something to do with being a curse, not that Itadori judges — but he thoroughly enjoys the nights watching Choso squint over a takeout box trying to figure out what the heck is in the thing.

It’s nice teaching someone else the ropes, rather than feeling clueless in his own life.

He shows Choso how to cook; how to clean, though they’re both fairly great at lifting furniture to get into those hard-to-reach spots; how to pay bills over the internet — or just to pay for bills in general.

However, there is one important item in life he has to show his big brother:

Video games.

Apparently all he ever played when he was with Jogo, Brains, and Mahito were board games.

Snooze.

Boring.

“Today is your lucky day,” he tells the man with tightly-coiled space buns one day while Choso's watching television.

Itadori thrusts a coveted console controller into his view with excitement.

Choso blinks down at it with confusion.

“Because I — Yuuji Itadori, your little bro — am going to show you the wonders and joys of gaming.”

“I know how to play games, Yuuji,” Choso flatly replies, though there’s a warmth to his tone no matter when he speaks to Itadori.

The pink-haired boy shakes his head.

“I’m not talking about Life or Trouble or, ugh, Monopoly — though you can technically play them on a console.”

Choso’s brows slide high: really?

“Yeah, really.”

“Huh.”

The man with the black strip over his nose tests the weight of the console controller in his hand, lip slightly pouted.

“So what do you… do?”

“Press buttons, mostly.”

Itadori holds up his own decked-out controller — a modified neon blue and black masterpiece that glows in the dark — and presses a few of the buttons to show him.

“You’ll get used to it. Trust me, it’s way easier in practice.”

Sitting beside his brother with crossed legs, he triggers the console to wake up to its dashboard.

The game show disappears, and a brilliant burst of color takes over the screen.

The reaction is priceless — Choso’s eyes widen to the size of saucers.

Aw, yeah, he has him interested now.

“Do you play these games with your friends?” Choso asks quietly, poking at a button with his thumb.

“Sometimes,” Itadori replies. “Fushiguro isn’t a fan of them. Nobara gets way too competitive. Like… scary competitive. We limit her screen time.”

Choso snorts. “I can picture that.”

Itadori grins and opens up a few window menus so he can set up a profile for Choso on his console.

He hands over his main controller and gestures to Choso.

“Pick whatever profile photo you want.”

Sticking his tongue to the left in the exact way Itadori does when he’s concentrating, Choso flicks over the right joystick to search through the images.

“Itadori?”

“Yeah, Choso?”

“I don’t see my face.”

“Huh?”

“The photographs.” Choso points to the screen. “Where am I?”

Itadori blinks before he realizes.

“Oh! You… don’t, ha. You pick a character.” He pauses. “Like how you choose a thimble or a car and stuff in Monopoly.”

Choso sucks in a sharp inhale and nods in understanding before fluttering through a few more options with more confidence.

He settles over a photo of Lara Croft from the Tomb Raider series before clicking it.

“Like this?”

“What, you like Lara?”

“Is that her name?”

“Yeah, she’s kinda super badass.” Itadori takes back the controller to finish up his profile. “My one online friend really likes those games—”

Then, brilliance hits him.

It doesn’t happen often, but today?

Itadori strikes gold.

“Oh, hey — if you want, you can kinda see how me and my one friend play. She’s usually on at this hour. Here.”

He pauses to reach around the couch only to hold out a headset for Choso to take.

“Wear this. It’s my spare.”

With that same inquisitive squint, Choso observes at the headphones with scrutiny.

Itadori showcases how to put them on, popping his RGB headset over his head and squishing his pink hair to his head.

It takes a little finessing with his hairstyle, but Choso does the same. He lets the headphones sit on his head and doesn’t move.

“You good?”

“What?” Choso’s voice shouts over the noise-cancelling feature.

“I said are you—” Itadori pauses, holding up a thumbs up.

Choso blinks. Then his thumb raises.

Good.

Itadori blinks back to the television screen where he signs on as himself — YuuMasterGeneral — before searching for a particular name on his friends list.

Truth be told, he’s only ever talked to this girl.

He has no clue what she looks like in person because he’s never met her in person, but she sounds pretty nice.

After Grandpa got sick, there wasn’t much to do around the house.

Sitting in a quiet house wasn’t cutting it, so Itadori tried his hand at online gaming lobbies.

Most of them sucked.

Most of them were full of assholes.

But he got lucky — an older girl that went by the moniker of Iris was nice enough to join his team.

That first night, they talked for hours about nothing in particular. Eventually he told her about his grandpa, and she added him as a friend. Iris told him to poke her whenever she was on so he had someone to play with.

Honestly? It was exactly the kind of lifeline he needed at the time.

After that, he gamed with Iris pretty regularly. Although they mostly game, sometimes they chat about their other hobbies. He's learned she has a full-time job, just recently graduating from university. A few times she's given a sprinkle of real life advice, from an adult figuring it out a couple of steps ahead of a teenager.

He felt safe. Seen.

He and Iris have been friends ever since.

Iris was good at gaming. Like, impossibly good.

So good she’d probably even beat Nobara.

But she wasn’t obnoxious about her wins, which was why Itadori enjoyed chatting with her so much.

Last time he talked to her was maybe six weeks ago. She’d been busy with her day job, but Itadori had been really busy with… well, everything to do with sorcery.

Surely she wouldn’t get weirded out about showing his older brother the ropes, right?

Iris was a private person, something Itadori could very respect, but he felt comfortable enough to invite her into this little debacle of his life now that Choso was going to be a permanent member of his family.

IRISSIRI IS ONLINE.

“Oh, cool, she’s on.”

“Who?” Choso asks, pushing a headphone off of his ear so he can hear Yuuji properly.

“My friend, Iris,” Itadori explains as he clicks to invite her to a party chat.

He then adds Choso, whose eyes widen at the magical sound of his little brother’s voice suddenly coming through the headset clear as day.

“This sounds…” 

Choso trails off, blinking as he hears the echo of his own voice.

Itadori laughs and leans over to mess with his settings once more. 

“Sorry — gotta mute yourself, buddy, otherwise we’ll get an echo going.”

Then a tiny chime sounds, and the brothers simultaneously stare at the television.

“Hello?”

Her voice is smooth as honey and soft, like she’s surprised to get the call.

Itadori immediately perks up, but he notices how Choso doesn’t move.

He just… stares, lips parted.

“Iris!” he greets excitedly. “Hey! Long time, no chat.”

“Yuuji,” she greets in return with a small smile in her voice. “Hey, no kidding. How’s it going? And who’s this…. Guest, person?”

“Oh — I haven’t given him a username yet. Iris, I wanted you to meet my big brother, Choso. Choso, this is my online friend Iris.”

He turns his head to look at Choso in the glow of the tv, but his brows furrow when he notices the pale complexion of Choso’s face turn a warm pink.

“Choso?” she asks, and Choso’s throat bobs.

Maybe he’s nervous about new people?

He’s never really been that nervous before.

“I didn’t know you had siblings!”

“Ha, yeah, it’s a complicated situation,” Itadori explains before flicking up his microphone stick so he can whisper directly to Choso: “You can speak in the microphone, you know.”

Choso clears his throat, his pink face turning scarlet in stark contrast to the black stripe across the bridge of his nose, before nodding. 

“....I’m his big brother.”

“Cool, cool,” she chides in return, and Itadori can’t even believe what he’s seeing:

His older brother practically melts in his seat as he presses a hand gently to his headphone as if to push it closer to his ear.

"It’s super nice to meet you, big brother Choso.”

Choso bites his lower lip and glances up at the screen. “You… have a really pretty voice—”

Uh oh.

Abort mission.

Itadori flies off of the end of the couch to quickly flick his microphone up to mute them both for a little familial aside. “Dude!”

Choso’s surprised, still sporting the blush. 

“What?”

“You can’t hit on my online friend!”

“I wasn’t hitting anyone, I was talking!” Choso hisses right back under his breath.

“Hitting on, not hitting!"

"Whatever!"

"Look: telling my friend she has a pretty voice is a little weird, okay?”

Suddenly the man looks a little worried. “It is?”

Itadori nods. “Yeah. Girls get bothered online all the time. Just… be cool.” 

He slowly drops his microphone back down.

Choso deflates and nods.

“Sorry about that! Yeah, no, he’s never played video games before so I thought we could show him how it’s done.”

“It's fine. But wait: he’s never played video games before?” Iris asks over her mic with a little laugh. “Seriously?”

Choso smiles small at that.

It’s lopsided and goofy. 

Itadori feels like he’s in the twilight zone.

“Did he live under a rock?” she adds in a gentle tease.

“Something like that.” Yuuji tells her, quickly loading up Fortnite for a game of Duos so Choso can listen and watch. “He’ll just hang with us while we play, if that’s cool with you?”

“So long as he doesn’t mind me asking him questions while we play,” Iris replies, sending a quick game invite to Itadori’s screen.

Both Itadori and Choso stare at one another.

Choso points at himself.

Itadori nods and points at him.

“Me?” Choso asks in a bit of a confused voice.

“Well, I’ve known your little brother for two years now, but I don’t exactly know you, ” Iris explains. “In a way, I kinda felt like his far-away big sister, so I'm happy to know he's got someone looking after him. So how old are you?”

Choso sits up a little taller.

“I'm one hundred and fif—”

“The same age as you!” Itadori chirps, cutting Choso off. “He’s twenty five.”

He can not have his normie friends find out about curse spirits and all of that insanity.

Itadori’s just grateful Sukuna never appeared cackling at his cheek in the middle of an intense match to make a pass out of bad taste.

Choso looks absolutely confused, but he slowly nods in tandem with Itadori’s pleading nod.

“...yes, I am... twenty-five years old.”

“Sweet, same age,” Iris chirps, and that goofy little look shows up on Choso’s face again.

(What gives, dude?!)

“And you’ve never played a single game before?” she asks as they load into the next lobby.

“I like Life.”

“The board game?”

“Yeah.”

“I was so bad at that game.”

“The spinner can really put you in debt,” Choso agrees with a solemn nod—

And Iris giggles.

Itadori blinks.

As he departs his character from the sky bus at the location Iris placed on the map, his lips begin to pull down to a grimace.

He’s never heard her laugh like that.

Not even when she's put toxic guys to shame and made them rage quit in Call of Duty.

“How did you meet my younger brother?” Choso asks, suddenly emboldened by the laugh.

“We met in a Destiny 2 lobby, actually,” Iris explains happily. “He helped me with a few of my bigger raids. When I found out the kid was fifteen-something, I felt like I had to make sure no one was a jerk to him in any future lobbies.”

“So you protected him?” Choso murmurs with surprise.

“More like shepherded him through games, sorta like a—”

“—big sister would,” Choso finishes for her.

“Kind of! Like I said earlier, Yuuji’s a good kid. And he’s really solid at playing games.” Iris clears her throat. “Yuuji, six o’clock. There is a drop over there.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

“Yuuji.”

“Miss!” Itadori corrects. “I mean Miss!”

“Jesus, he acts like I’m fifty sometimes,” Iris bemoans, and Choso smirks.

“Yeah. He acts like I’m a hundred and fifty,” the older man cheekily replies, and Itadori scowls.

On Itadori’s screen, they watch as a potential enemy rounds the corner of the building Itadori’s looting —

He doesn't act fast enough to attack —

But suddenly they fall to their knees, before bursting into confetti with all of their items strewn about.

K.O. 

They both hear Iris whistle from her microphone. 

“Respect your elders, kid.”

“Thanks, Eye. I didn’t realize there were people on my spot,” Itadori chimes.

Yeah.

Because he’s too busy listening to Choso act like he’s going to eat the mic to get closer to Iris —

And the fact that his online friend, his very normal friend, is giggling the way some girls giggle whenever…

They look…

At Gojo-sensei.

Itadori stops moving his thumbs on the controller, too deep in thought to play as Iris carries them.

She's scoping perimeters while he's busy putting the puzzle pieces together.

He's blushing.

She's giggling.

His Mikasa Ackerman avatar gets shot down, and Iris is shouting that she's coming back to save him —

But his eyes are on the guy opposite to him on the couch staring intently.

Not at the game, no.

At Iris’ little avatar that shows up every time she speaks.

Her icon's a little chibi Lara Croft.

Kind of like his generic Lara Croft icon.

Some weirdly-fated choice in a sea of happenstances.

Huh.

Wait a second.

"Hey, Choso, do you mind taking over for me in the next game?"

Choso whips his attention, eyes widening with uncertainty. "Me?"

Iris laughs again, and Itadori sees it in real-time: that butterfly-in-your-stomach goofy face, smack dab on Choso's lips.

"I'm down if you're down, Choso."

Quickly he takes the glowing controller from his younger brother and straightens up. "I can learn."

"Just don't go running off on me on the map, alright?" Iris requests playfully. "Stick with me and we'll easily get to last twenty."

"I won't fail you," Choso promises with a nod.

Itadori crosses his arms, observing and listening to Iris explain the game gently to Choso.

Although she was just as gentle with him, Itadori can hear something different in her voice. It's like she's trying to get Choso to answer her so he can talk. She asks him questions that will get him to talk more and more, until they're having a full-blown conversation without Itadori in sight.

Interesting.

He likes her voice, that much he's deduced.

But does she like his voice, too?

Something's happening here.

The cogs are turning.

Maybe —

Just maybe —

Yuuji Itadori can actually be a real, bonafide wingman.

.

[the-writing-trash-panda]

A bunch of incorrect quotes I got from this site.

Gray: Yeah, I find it quite emotional. In like a cool way.

Lucy: Did you just say it makes you cry in a cool way?

✨

Natsu: Wakey Wakey Eggs and Bakey!

Lucy: But I'm a vegan.

Natsu: Wakey Wakey Vegetables and Sadness.

✨

Erza: I'm hot, I’m tall, I'm gay, and I'm on my theatre kid arc.

✨

Wendy: Oh, they left the bowl out?

Wendy: It says, “Take two pieces of candy.”

Natsu: Nobody around though…*grabs the entire bowl and runs off with it*

Wendy: NO—

✨

Gray: Erza-

Erza: *sighs* Jellal used to call me Erza...

Gray: ...Because it's your fucking name.

✨

Natsu: Laxus has only knocked me out three time this week. Our friendship is really developing.

✨

Wendy: Okay happy campers! If you were a fruit what would you be and why?

Erik: I'd be a tomato because no one accepts me as part of the group.

Wendy: ...

Erik: ...

Wendy: OKAY HAPPY CAMPERS-

✨

Laxus: Where are your parents?

Wendy: What are parents?

Laxus: That’s just about the saddest thing I've ever heard.

✨

Wendy: There are three chairs and five kids. What do you do?

Rogue: Get two more chairs.

Sting: Cut each chair in half to make six.

Natsu: Make them FIGHT for their seats!

Erik: I would never be near children.

Gajeel: Get rid of two kids.

✨

Sting: It’s not gonna work, I’m not a snitch.

Cop: Fine, let's try something else. Tag a friend you recently committed a crime with.

Sting: Lmao, @Rogue.

✨

Erik: Good morning. As you begin your day, remember that violence is always an option and often the answer.

✨

Bickslow: We’re playing Scrabble. It’s a nightmare.

Evergreen: Scrabble? Scrabble’s great.

Bickslow: Not when you’re playing with Fried, it’s not. He puts words like “ephemeral” and I put “dog.”

✨

Bickslow: Say no to drugs.

Bickslow: Say yes to drugs.

Bickslow: It doesn't matter if you say yes or no to drugs, cause if you're talking to drugs... then you're on drugs.

✨

Bickslow: I made tea.

Laxus: I don't want tea.

Bickslow: I didn't make you tea. This is my tea.

Laxus: Then why did you tell me?

Bickslow: It's a conversation starter.

Laxus: It's a horrible conversation starter.

Bickslow: Oh, is it? We're conversing. Checkmate.

✨

Fried: What are you writing?

Bickslow: The government wants to know what kind of weapons we have in the house. I'm letting them know it's private information.

Laxus, looking over Bickslow's shoulder: This just says 'fuck around and find out' in calligraphy.

✨

Fried: Do you guys ever have a civilized conversation that doesn't require insulting each other every time you get a chance?

Bickslow: No.

Evergreen: No.

Fried: Didn't think so.

✨

Gajeel: I could kill you if I wanted.

Droy: Yeah? So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special.

✨

Gajeel: Goodnight to the love of my life, Levy, and fuck the rest of y'all.

✨

Teacher: Your child was in a fight.

Levy: Oh no, that’s terrible!

Gajeel: Did they win?

✨

Levy: You three, explain right now!

Jet: It was Gajeel.

Droy: It was Gajeel.

Lily: It was Gajeel.

Gajeel:

Gajeel: …fuck.

✨

Sting, being robbed: Please! Have mercy! I have a family! A wife and kids… a dog…

Minerva: Literally none of that is true, Sting.

Sting: Okay, but I’m sexy! That’s gotta count for something, right?

✨

Minerva: New year, same me. Because I'm perfect.

✨

Sting: Are you ever going to listen to me?

Rogue: Yes. Absolutely.

Sting: When?

Rogue: When you're right.

✨

Sting: Between Minerva, Rogue and Yukino, there are three braincells.

Sting: And Yukino has all three of them.

✨

Sting: Life keeps fucking me and I can't remember the safeword.

✨

Sting: I don’t need any more friends. I already have four.

Yukino: Don’t you mean five?

Sting: *looks directly at Rogue*

Sting: No, I’m pretty sure I meant to say four.

✨

Yukino: Why can’t we all just get along?

Minerva: Because most of us are assholes, Yukino.

✨

Sting, gesturing to Yukino: Rogue, look what you did! You made Mom upset!

Minerva: Mom, please don’t cry, we’re sorry!

Rogue: I’m sorry Mom... :(

Yukino, near tears: I DON’T REMEMBER GIVING BIRTH TO ANY OF YOU!

[leupagus]

The subtitle for this should be "Undead Hardy: Too Annoying To Be Scary"

It was near dawn by the time they heard someone fumbling at the door at the south transept and Hardy came limping in, caked with dirt and looking irate. "Six feet down you put me," he said, pointing an accusatory finger at Ellie. "Were you trying to make sure I couldn't get back out?"

"Couldn't say," Ellie confessed. Paul radiated tension behind her, although if Hardy was whinging like this he wasn't likely to eat anyone's brains. "But you're here now."

"Aye, just," he grumbled, and scrubbed at his hair. Clumps of earth skittered along the stone floor. "Did you catch him?"

Ellie stared at him, trying to parse his words. "Catch—?"

"The suspect, Miller, the one we were chasing through the boatyard! The one up in the cliff-top hut! How is it I spent the night digging myself up out the ground and I've got a better grasp on this case than you do?"

"Right," said Paul, clapping his hands on his knees and getting up. "I'll go find a broom. Detective, there's a garden hose outside round the back. I suggest you use it. And then you'll come back and clean this up. And you're making a donation to the church's roof fund."

"A donation?" Hardy demanded. "What for?"

"For starters, making me explain to the workmen why they have to re-dig the grave meant form Mrs. Ellison's funeral tomorrow," Paul snapped back, evidently coming to the same conclusion Ellie had: it was pointless to be afraid of an ancient horror as irritating as Alec Hardy. "Ellie, any time you want to talk, I'm here." And he went off toward the vestry, presumably in search of a broom and dustpan.

"Right," Hardy said, turning round and heading back outside. "Call the station and see if Uniform managed to do their jobs while you were sat round here gabbing with a suspect."

"A suspect?" Ellie repeated incredulously, following behind. "Paul could've had me arrested for seven different crimes—"

"Eight, if you include molestation of a corpse," said Hardy. "Call them, Miller. I'd do it myself, but you've got my jacket somewhere. And my shoes, where have those got to?"

"—he could have run screaming," she continued over him. "He could've called up Maggie and told her there's a… what are you, anyway?" Hardy ignored her as he cast about for the garden hose. "A zombie? A revenant? Isn't there something called a lich or something?"

"I told you, I prefer Hardy," he said absently, fiddling with the tap. After a moment it sputtered out water that had to be ice-cold, but he didn't show any sign of discomfort (or no more so than he usually did) as he rinsed off the worst of the grime from his clothes and face and hands.

She gaped at him. "What, is that supposed to be a joke? Making puns about your… condition?"

"It's not a condition," he protested.

Ellie resisted the primary-school urge to insist that it was, or at least that was the best term she'd come up with and until he had a better one he could just shut up. "Paul could've done any of those things, and he didn't."

"He wouldn't," said Hardy, dismissive, as he shook himself off. "Clergy get training in this sort of thing."

"Training or not, he helped me last night—"

"Aye, helped you bury me six feet underground—" Hardy said, stalking off toward the carpark.

"How was I supposed to know how deep?" Ellie shut the tap off and ran after him. "That's how deep a normal grave is, that's what we put you in. You're welcome, by the way."

"What made you think of it?" he asked, wheeling around to loom over her, scowling. "Burying me. Not something most folk would think of. Even when dealing with someone in my condition."

Ellie stood her ground, glaring right back up at him. She knew well enough by now the difference between DI Hardy, probing at someone to determine the truth and DI Hardy, being a tit. "It worked, didn't it?"

He made a grumbling noise in his throat that sounded like two cats having a go at each other. "How did you know it would work?"

Ellie hesitated. "I'm not sure," she said, in lieu of telling him about her jelly mould analogy. "I just knew it would."

He nodded, as though she'd given the right answer, then hovered a moment. "Well. Thanks for that." His scowl deepened, as if embarrassed by any expression of gratitude. "Get on the horn and find out what the hell happened last night. Plus we still need to find Susan Wright's dog — don't suppose there's been any progress on that. And I wasn't joking, Miller, where the hell are my shoes?"

"God, you're such a knob," Ellie muttered, but she fished the keys out of her pocket and stomped off toward the car, Hardy still complaining as he followed.

[splicedskies]

@tapuhauko - Planned Starter!

Alola was such a fascinating place. It felt so natural compared to Sinnoh, even his brief stay in Unova.

The ferry here even was peaceful, it was a nice change of pace. Even if the fact there was so much water surrounding well.. everything gave him pause. Even so, Altra was taking his discovery of this new region, one step at a time, and that seemed to start on the island called 'Melemele' according to a few he'd overheard talking.

A place where many residents of the island took their first steps.

For the most part, he avoided the Trainer's School, that didn't really fit what he was looking for after all. But he would spend some time along the routes, avoiding other trainers and oddly.. talking with some of the Pokémon in the grass.

Most were weary, but he'd managed to find at least a wild Pikipek that could give him directions to what people called 'Iki Town'. It was easier than trying to ask the people that lined the road, even if he was confident he got at least one or two odd looks.

The town itself seemed so.. quaint, old even. It sort of reminded him of his own hometown, Celestic Town. The aged place with history.

"Whoa.." He muttered, he was walking alongside at least one of his partners, his Gible.. Sigmund, specifically who happily trotted along at Altra's feet.

"It's quieter than I thought for a town." Altra muttered, speaking not particularly to anyone close by, but rather the little round Pokémon at his feet. Though that was both a good and a bad thing, the quiet.. It meant that asking around for information was difficult. Especially since he couldn't spot many wild Pokemon here to do so..

Thus, he'd wander the town, the little shark-dragon Pokemon hot on his heels as he'd do so. All before he came to what looked to be some sort of larger, open area in what he assumed to be the center of town. He figured that's what the giant slab of carved stone on the ground represented at least.

"This is.. really different than what we're used to, huh?" He looked down to his partner, who instead seemed to be looking off at something close by.

"What's wrong?"

[zipzapzopzoop]

There's a Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow

Chapter 27: Hide and Seek

“Again, Franny?”

A teenage Art scolded the girl as he drove the battered pizza delivery car. It smelled like pizza inside. He only just got it back from the police station after it was stolen. It nearly cost him his job, so he wasn’t exactly in the best mood. “We’ve been over this! You can’t kiss the frogs!”

Franny crossed her arms with a pout. Her brother wasn’t thrilled about having to pick her up early because she was ill. Only a bit! She was doing better now!

“If they weren’t meant to be kissed, why do they look so cute and dumb and kissable!” She exclaimed, holding Frankie up to emphasize her point. “See him? Look at him. Look at him, Art… Art, you’re not looking-” “I see him, Fran. You know he’s supposed to stay at home-”

“STOP!” 

Art slammed down on the breaks and held his arm in front of his sister. The car skidded to an abrupt halt, the poor frog flying from the girl’s hands and plopping into the windshield with a ‘slap!’

“What!? What is it?!”

“Lewis lives that way!” She pointed. “He hasn’t come to school in a few days and I want to make sure he’s okay!”

“Fran, I’m certain he’s fine-”

“Please!” “It would be rude to stop by unannounced-”

“Please! We’ll just knock and ask!”

She gave her brother the biggest puppy dog eyes she could. “Please? For me?”

Art only looked unimpressed. “That’s not going to work this time.”

She leaned in and gave him a big hug, somehow making her eyes even bigger.

“For your favorite baby sister?” Art scowled and looked away. She responded by holding Frankie up next to his face. Even as he tried to look away, she moved Frankie to follow. “Pwease? Fow Fwankie?”

Art threw up his arms in defeat. “Fine! Just leave the frog at home tomorrow.”

Franny leaned into Frankie and chuckled. “Not gonna happen.”

“What?”

She held Frankie up again. “Frankie was just telling me that you’re the best brother ever!”

Art breathed a heavy sigh and put on his turn signal. 

“What am I going to do with you?”

——————

While Wilbur tuned everything out, Lewis did all he could to listen in.

“My biggest concern is that these people know who we are and are trying to get ahold of us,” rather than his usual expressive and broad tone, Art spoke low and quiet, as if they weren’t the only people in the house.

“That’s ridiculous. This bozo here and I were arrested and they let us go!”

“Please calm down, honey. The important thing is that you’re with us. We don’t know these people or their motives just yet. We may have just gotten lucky.”

Franny put a hand on Laszlo’s shoulder, making a mental note to ask about getting arrested later. “How are the maps coming along?” Laszlo brightened a bit, seemingly eager to change the topic and escape being the center of attention. “Good. Here, they’re all done.” He handed them to Franny.

“Alright!” Franny spoke up, quieting the rest of the room. She placed the maps on the center of the table. “Role call. What are some points of interest? Where did everyone start out?”

Everyone pointed to different spots around the Midtown map. Wilbur pointed to Joyce Williams Elementary. “There. They wouldn’t let me leave.”

Fritz pointed to downtown. Petunia pointed to an alleyway behind a toy store. Laszlo pointed to a church. Art to a bowling alley. Lefty to a bookstore. Finally, Franny to a car demolition site. Lewis took a pen and marked where each person pointed.

“Who are we missing?” Fritz put on a pair of reading glasses and got another piece of paper. Lefty meanwhile decided to clean up the kitchen.

“Our damn daughter for starters?” Petunia squawked. Fritz nervously wrote down names as the others suggested. 

“Alright, so that’s Tallulah, Billie, Gaston, Joe, Bud, and Lucille.. God, I hope they’re okay…” he put his head in his hand. 

Laszlo suddenly went still and took on a worried expression.

“What if… Those people who went after me… What if they have Tallulah?”

They all looked up, nobody having the heart to confirm the likelihood of the possibility.

A knock at the door suddenly brought them into the abrupt present.

Lewis turned to his family in a panic. “Hide! Now!” He whispered as loud as he could without being heard outside.

“Hello! It’s Franny! Are you home? Can I come in? Your door’s unlocked!”

Suddenly the kitchen became a mad scramble for everyone to hide. 

Franny slowly pushed the front door open. She turned and gave a grin and thumbs up to her brother sitting in the car. He looked puzzled. They let her in? Huh.

“Lewis!” Franny called out as she stepped into the empty home. “It’s just me! I’m here to make sure you’re not dead!” She stepped into the kitchen, not noticing the rapid shuffling by the figures hidden just out of sight. The house smelled like bacon and eggs, so someone was just here. Franny didn’t see the two pairs of eyes (one of which were fake) watching from the pantry. Petunia opened her mouth but Fritz quickly covered it and shook his head.

“Lewis! Are you having a breakfast party?” Franny turned to look at the table while a camouflaged Lefty slowly moved from his spot on the wall up to the ceiling, changing his color to match his surroundings. There was an open iBook on the table. Cool! She and Lewis would play games on it sometimes when she’d visit. To her confusion, there were no games, just pictures of the city. Just out of her sight, Wilbur stood balanced on a door, holding Buster under an arm. He silently shushed the dog. Suddenly, his foot slipped but he was snatched up by a long tentacle arm.

Some drawn maps with crosses on them caught her eye, next to it a list of names. “‘Tallulah, Billie, Gaston…’” she read aloud. “Hey, I know a Gaston,” Franny spoke to nobody in particular.

The girl jumped up when she thought she saw the curtains move slightly. She didn’t see the figure flinch and huddle back behind the curtain. “Hey! Who’s there? I know karate!” 

Franny snuck up to the curtain, her arms raised. She yanked the curtain back and jumped into position. “Hiya!” 

…There was nobody there.

Franny stood for a moment. Huh… She went back to the pictures on the table, failing to notice Laszlo, now on top of the curtain rail, breathing a sigh of relief. That was close.

She looked over the papers again, trying to figure them out. A pen fell and rolled under the table, stopping right next to the girl’s older counterpart, who had been using the table as a hiding place. “Dang it.” She felt the ground with her arm, but couldn’t seem to find the pen. Mrs.Robinson held her breath when the girl moved to look underneath the table-

“WAIT!” Lewis ran in and Franny jumped up. Mrs.Robinson took the time to crawl away.

“There you are, Lewis! Where have you been? Are you okay?” Lewis hurried over and ushered Franny another way so that she wouldn’t see Uncle Art huddled behind one of the counters. “Yeah, I’m good! Just some… family in town! Been spending some time catching up.” 

“Neat! Oh my gosh I totally forgot! I found a robot! At school!” Lewis froze. “What?” “Yeah! He’s in the janitor’s closet and he’s made of gold! And he’s got an ‘R’ for robot on his chest!”

Lewis grabbed Franny’s shoulders. “You have to show me! ASAP!”

A bright grin spread across Franny’s face. “Way ahead of ya!”

The two went running out the front door, Franny unaware of her friend’s panic, mistaking it for curiosity. “You should fix him up so he can be our friend!” “That’s the plan!”

The moment the door shut, the entire family fell from their hiding spots, breathing a collective sigh of relief.

Way. Too. Close.

------

[sadaveniren]

Thank you for your post about Doris coming back, I totally agree with you!

But I wasn’t here then, so I’m kind of curious about the stunt. I’ve heard that people meant that Louis chose her himself as his stunt and they were actually friends? Is that right? And did she really admit in some interview that she was a beard?

Sorry if my questions is stupid, you don’t have to post if you don’t feel like it 😊

🥰 no problem and despite my eye rolling at certain anons there are actually no stupid questions, especially when you are coming at it from a place of not being here.

People (me included) believe Louis more than likely chose her as his choice for a stunt girl. We think he “auditioned” a couple of girls, Alycia being one of them, and ultimately chose to go with Danielle. No one actually knows why he picked Danielle over Alycia.

There was talk that they were friends and they got along, and Danielle did in fact watch/spend time with Fizzy, the twins and the younger twins in 2016, which retrospectively we can assume was because Louis, Lottie, their grandparents etc. were caring for Jay. That like. Is a fact. Danielle spent a lot of time with the family. So it is very possible she became good friends with them.

That said there was also plenty of evidence her and Louis did not get along. For starters, she didn’t actually spend as much time with him personally as she made it seem. She played very well at pretending but after the breakup and finding out Cliff was, at the time actually Louis’ dog - who Louis got for himself from one of Danielle’s uncles friends or whatever - made some things we saw over 2016 look different. For example a lot of times we thought Danielle was with Louis would be because Lottie to Calvin showed a video of Cliff. We thought Cliff was Danielle’s dog, therefore if Cliff was there Danielle was there. But with the new knowledge that Cliff WASNT Danielle’s dog we realized in videos where we ONLY saw Cliff and not her little red dog, or herself, Cliff was probably just chilling with Lottie or Calvin in the house alone.

Because they were somewhat red carpet official if you think about it - aka going to events together - we also got them talking about each other and lemme clue you, both of them very clearly never talked to one another. Louis memorably said he had no clue what Danielle thought about racing when they were AT A FORMULA 1 EVENT and had FLOWN THERE ON A PRIVATE JET. Like y’all were up there in that thing, going to an event, and y’all couldn’t even make small talk enough about the event you’re going to to be able to answer something simple like “what do you think they think about this”. Not to mention Danielle and her “oh I sympathize with the stalkers they just love Louis so much” like the two of them were very much not on the same page.

Finally is the fact that we also got reports that Danielle trying to kiss Louis in front of the fans and him pretty aggressively pushing her away. Thats… that’s always the big one for me about whether or not they were friends.

As for her confirming being a beard, no she never did that. Or if she did I sure never heard about it. And also any paid beard worth their salt would NEVER admit to being a beard while the person they bearded for is still closeted because that’s called outing someone and that’s Very Fucked Up.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

my friend last night on discord sent me your steven and mike with reader fic and OOGH MY HEART /POS it has inspired me to pick back up one of my own unfinished fics :] in the midst of that i had a thought strike me and thought i would share with you the idea: platonic grey and shinto (THEY R BESTIES IN MY HEART UR HONOR) fluff with reader fic with the reader helping grey understand shinto with her crazy and wacky little antics around him but acts like a sweet little chaotic angel around reader

Aw I'm glad you both loved it!! Thank you!! Also I adore your art <3

.....

“I don’t get why she wants to be my friend, [y/n]! She’s the devil!!! A DEMON!!!”

“C'mon, Grey. If she craves friendship, then she can’t be all that bad-”

“No, no, no..you..y-you don’t understand. She’s been following me around all day and all night! I can’t get rid of her and the one time I thought I succeeded she freaked out on me and...a-and....ghh..!!!”

“Hey, hey. Breathe. It’s okay.”

Setting your hands on the younger trainer’s shoulders, you looked him in the eyes as you gently helped him calm down. You slowed your breathing, and eventually he did as well to match yours, blinking away his tears.

“I-I’m sorry..” He shuddered as you let him go. And he sighed shakily and hugged himself. "I hate feeling like this.."

“It’s alright.” You smiled in reassurance, feeling Shinto climbing onto your shoulder and nuzzling your cheek affectionately. “Hey, girl. Like feeling taller than me, huh?” With a chuckle, you rubbed her ear.

She silently nodded, continuing her sweet gestures while Grey just glared at her.

That little monster was only putting up a front because you were here.

How dare she act like an innocent little angel who could do no wrong?!

If only you could see how awful she really was....

“Now I’m aware she does some uh..pretty unnerving stuff like-”

“Turning into a giant slimy freak?!!” He suddenly blurted out, only to shrink back as you just looked at him, a little annoyed. “..sorry, I..I shouldn’t have interrupted.”

“It’s okay, but..for starters I don’t think she likes being called a “slimy freak”. So let’s drop the name-calling. I get she frightens you, but I'm sure I wouldn't like to be called a freak every time you see me, right?"

Grey opened his mouth to protest, though he stopped himself, shoulders slumping as he instead nodded in understanding.

He felt like he was back in school again--particularly in detention being reprimanded for his rudeness.

“But I know Shinto has her own flaws, too..” You pointed out.

“..Shin..?” The Hypno-like creature perked up in confusion, wondering why she was being targeted now.

“Yes. When you guys first met, did you know Grey was someone who was trapped inside that game?”

For a moment, her face held a thinking expression, before nodding with a smile.

“So you also must’ve known how scared he was...and that you can't force a friendship on someone if they're scared and don't know where they are, right?”

“.....Shi...no.” Pouting, she shook her head, realizing what her mistake was back then.

At that same moment, you heard your pokedex beep and opened it up to see that she left you a message on her section:

THOUGHT GREY NEEDED FRIEN

SO SHINTO SANG WITH HIM

BUT WHEN GREY CHEATED, SHE GOT MAD :(

“Ah. He probably didn’t realize you weren’t meant to be captured. So he couldn’t have possibly known that was cheating." You explained. "I think...the problem lies in you two not fully understanding each other. So we can work on that and help you guys get along better. Not as trainer and Pokémon, but as friends."

"...ironically, she's helped me out a lot." Grey remarked. "She was the only company I ever had in that game. I-I probably would've gone crazy and never found a way out if it weren't for her. So...I guess I owe you an apology, Shinto." He looked at her, frowning slightly. "I promise not to call you a freak anymore. Let's just...try to be cool with each other from here on out. Whatdya say?"

For a few moments, she stared right back at him in total silence, and it made him nervous that he said something wrong.

'Could I have worded that differently? Does she think I only apologized because of [y/n]?' He began to overthink...as usual.

Then suddenly, she leaped from your shoulder and onto him, hugging him around the neck. "Shin!! Shin!!" She cooed.

"W-Woah hey!!" He freaked out at first, although when he realized she wasn't trying to strangle him, he cautiously hugged her back. A relieved sigh left him after nothing bad happened.

She just wanted a hug. Plain and simple.

"I guess you um..a-accept my apology?" He laughed awkwardly, his eyes shifting to you. "I-Is this good?"

You just smiled at the pair, happy that they were already making progress with their friendship. "Yeah, I think you two will get along just fine."

[daydreamingleclerc]

kinktober #1 - ruben dias

in which, you're needy and he's sick of your whining.

prompts: fingering / "you'd better keep quiet if i start fingering you now" / "spread your legs wider"

warnings: language, fingering, sexual acts in public

this isn’t that great and it’s short! sorry <3

tagging @johnstonesfc & @lewischumi bc they’re my no.1 ruben whores 🫶🏼

"what do you want, baby?"

you wrapped both of your arms around one of ruben's biceps as you sat at dinner, your head dropping onto his shoulder. he held a menu in his other hand and you skim read it briefly.

"wanna feel you," you whispered, leaning up and kissing his jawline. your boyfriend shifted, a soft smirk on his lips, "please."

"i meant what do you want to eat, baby," ruben chuckled. he was purposely avoiding your question, as he had been all day, stringing you along until you got home, away from the prying eyes of his friends and fans.

his friends sat across the table from you both with their girlfriends, and you tried your best to be polite. his hand braced itself on your thigh and you nuzzled closer back into his shoulder, playing it off like you were just exhausted from a long week of flying back and forth between manchester and lisbon.

the pair of you ordered and as much as you hated it, you made small talk with his friends and their partners, proudly using the portuguese ruben had taught you.

"all we need is five minutes," you said to him after a while, just as the waitress had taken away your finished starter plates. ruben looked at you with a puzzled look, as if trying to connect the dots to what conversation you were aiming it to. "we'll be back before mains are even here."

"no, Y/N," ruben spoke sternly, despite his voice being soft. it was rare that he called you Y/N, especially in a situation like this. he often called you by a nickname, or some lovey-dovey petname. "you can wait until we get home."

for some reason, ruben's scolding of you made emotions shift inside your stomach and you liked it. "but what if i can't wait?" you pushed, and before he had the chance to pull it free you placed the hand that was on your thigh to your clothed pussy, "surely you're not going to make me wait, are you, baby?"

you knew then that ruben had been defeated. he knew that once he started, he'd want more and more until you were both too exhausted to give one another anything else, and you were in one of your moods willing to give him everything.

"you'd better be quiet if i start fingering you now," he warned, kissing your cheek, "i don't want to hear any noise coming from that pretty little mouth, meu amor."

you nodded, and gripped at the table with so much force you pushed it forward slightly when his fingers dipped inside of you. ruben's breath hitched when he pushed them inside of you, "you're so wet, querida."

you bit your bottom lip, tucking it between your teeth as ruben added another finger inside of you. silence fell upon both of you but you realised quickly that to get away with the escapade you would need to keep up appearances, and quickly you both started to begin talking to his friends again; albeit a struggle.

the mains soon arrived, and you found it incredibly hard to eat while you were being fucked by your boyfriends fingers.

he pulled his fingers from you momentarily to hook his hand under your leg, “spread your legs wider, darling,” he said, his voice low in a whisper as he quickly switched from portuguese to english; and you were thankful that his friends didn’t know too much of your mother tongue to question it.

you did as you were told, spreading out your legs and admiring him when he hooked the leg closest to him over his thighs, meaning that your dress was hiding nothing now.

his thumb stroked your clit as his fingers worked inside of you, and within minutes he had you gripping at the tablecloth. you were unable to hold your orgasm off, despite fighting it at every turn.

“ruben… gonna cum,” you leaned in and whispered, not caring that he — all while smirking and enjoying his night significantly more than he was — was halfway through a conversation.

he paused, holding up his finger to the friend opposite him, and when he looked into your eyes, you caved then and there. you didn’t care who looked at that point, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as your orgasm rocked through your body.

instead of helping you ride it out like he usually did, ruben pulled his hand from your clit and rested it on your thigh, pulling your dress down slightly.

“if you wanna cum like someone who wants to behave, then wait until we get home, amor,” he smirked as he took in a mouthful of food, “or you get treated like that. your choice.”

[meowmeowchapel]

the west wing, 20 hours in america, sentence starter meme.

You know the story about the guy whose cars gets stuck in a muddy hole. A farmer comes along and says he'll pull the car out of the mud but he's going to have to charge 50 bucks 'cause this is the tenth time he's had to pull it out of the mud today. The driver says, "God, when to you have time to plow your land, at night?" The farmer says, "No, no. Nighttimeis when I fill the whole with water."

Why aren't you there?

It's tough to explain.

[name] has trouble concealing his displeasure.

Stepped on it.

You seem pissed that I brought it up.

When somebody can give me an answer to that question, I'll let you know.

I am lightened up. This is me lightened up. You're saying lighter?

You want to lighten up a little?

Speaking of health and fitness...

I had half a grapefruit.

You think I'm lying?

You've been up the past two nights and I don't want a zombie.

Go to sleep.

I'm kidding. that was a joke. I kid because I love.

No kidding, it feels good out here.

You sure i'm not taking you away from something you need to be doing?

You have a second job?

This is fun. We're roughing it.

Remember some of that stuff I said, okay?

Yeah. Doesn't sound quite right, though, does it?

Just out of curiosity, what do you think would happen?

I'm not very easily impressed.

Yeah, you know what? Sue me.

It's a-a common mistake.

How did...? I don't understand.

What is this, a joke?!

Okay, this is a whole new thing now. My guys are going to need to walk this off a bit before they can regroup.

No, I'm sorry buddy. I know you're supposed to be sleeping today.

I don't know what it is you do in there.

Welcome to the club, partner. We got jackets.

You ever love so much it hurts? Like, physically hurts?

It's not intellect, it's memory. It's a different gift. A wonderful one. I've never had it.

I make fun of the French as much as anybody and I don't even know what that meant.

Elitist, feminist-- you can't do that to the English language.

Several of the men I've dated haven't yet gotten over their fear of frogs.

Option one is we make a joke out of it.

We make a joke out of it? What would we have to do to it to make...?

What's your specialty?

No, I mean I can't believe you're considering doing it.

I didn't know you were superstitious.

How long have we been talking about this now?

Okay, let's not tell anybody that.

Whatcha' doin' on the floor?

I'm sitting here listening, already I've turned to a life of crime.

And they're using Act V scene from Hamlet? Are these Batman villians?

300 IQ points between them-- they can't find their way home.

I swear to God, if [name] wasn't there, they'd have to buy a house.

I don't know. I'm a puzzle.

We'd rather people didn't exercise common sense but I agree with what you're saying.

You know I can hear you, right?

I'm in your corner.

You call me a liar to my face?

Well, I'm afraid we're at a classic impasse, [name].

You were strange the first time I met you, and you're strange now.

Hey, the first time you met me there was a good reason.

My powers of deduction are not to be mocked.

That come with tights and a cap?

I'm going to figure it out anyway. What I lack in memory, I more than make up for with exceptional powers of deductive reasoning.

By the way, my powers of ordering are a joke.

Ah, you pulled the switcheroo.

You are so heartbreakingly easy at the end of the day.

You deceived me.

You played upon my love for you.

I'm going to make fun of you while you do, okay?

Did you have other plans?

As a matter of fact, I did. I was planning a quiet night...

If you ask me, it's soft porn. No one needs to massage garlic oil into a leg of lamb that much, on top of which...

You know anything about chaos theory?

Let me get you home. I don't think you're going to make it.

Good writers borrow from other writers. Great writers steal from them outright.

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

"You are different that what I expected" Marlene said after a while.

Dorcas snorted.

"Yeah? In what sense?"

"Well, for starters. You are not a superficial barbie"

Dorcas laughed. And Marlene was so pleased to maker her laugh like that. Her chest was warm and fuzzy.

Marlene had exchanged numbers with Dorcas Meadowes. She had been nervous and when she was nervous, she did stupid shit. After they got detention together, they realized they could actually talk like decent people. That they could get along. Dorcas talked about ballet. And Marlene, about rugby. What they had in common was that they were both disciplined and constant.

"I do want to learn ballet, Meadowes" she had said "So we should probably exchange numbers"

When this happened, Marlene had no hope of Dorcas calling her ever. Or the other way around.

But then Marlene, after watching a movie about some ballet girl, decided to call Dorcas to consult her something.

It wasn't that Marlene had wanted to talk to her. No. Nothing like that...

"McKinnon?" Dorcas had sounded surprised.

"Hey!" Marlene was blushing "So I have a question..."

"Yes..." Dorcas was amused "Tell me..."

They ended up talking and talking for about two hours on the phone while Marlene had a fag. Marlene got to know a lot about Dorcas. The real Dorcas. She wasn’t plastic or fake. She was actually a very real and a sensitive person. A very special one. Dorcas told her about her mother and how she was pressuring her to be just like her. Daisy Meadowes sounded like a strict teacher more than a mother. Dorcas told her about discipline and what it meant. How she had to be careful with her body. With what she ate, what she drank. She couldn't consume alcohol or drugs. Dorcas only used a vape to control her anxiety.

"But that's worse than actual cigarettes, you know?"

"I might be aware of that, McKinnon" Dorcas giggled.

"Alright. Just saying"

And then Dorcas told her about Nick. How she had met him. And how he was actually decent. Not the bloody asshole he presented himself to be. Marlene hated Mulciber but Dorcas had made him sound like an human being.

Then Marlene told Dorcas about her golden rugby days. It was when Marlene was little. She remembered how rugby was like a sacred thing in her family. How much the McKinnons enjoyed to play. How it was the most wonderful family activity. And then Marcus became obsessed with Adam's talent. Marcus' goal first was to get him in the Gryffindor Team at Hogwarts. When Adam managed it, Marcus was thinking about Rugby Cups and Tournaments. And then, when Adam grew older, Marcus was already looking for a professional team for him to play in. Rugby went from being the thing that brought The McKinnons together, to the thing that was breaking them apart. Marlene confessed her brother Cole and her felt a bit left out. And sometimes Marlene wished Marcus would appreciate her talent. But of course he didn't. Adam was the perfect one. And she was a girl.

"When I got into the team in fourth year, he didn't even care" Marlene confessed "But I remember the intense summer before Adam's second year. Marcus would've sued Hogwarts if he didn't get into the team"

"You are very talented" Dorcas had said which made Marlene blush.

"Cheers. But everyone compares me with my bother"

"You are unique. You play with passion"

They talked about more things. Fears. Weird dreams they've had. Funny stories about their friends. Marlene had never opened herself to anyone like this. Not even Lily. Not even Mary. But somehow it felt easy with Dorcas.

"You are not what I expected either" Dorcas responded now.

"Really?"

"I found you very annoying most of the time"

"Oh, ok..."

"Like I really wanted you to shut up"

"Thanks for that. That's nice..."

Dorcas laughed again. Marlene smiled.

"But you are not annoying at all, McKinnon"

Marlene bit her lip to avoid smiling again.

There was silence after that. Beautiful peaceful silence after hours of talking. Like there was nothing more to say. Not in an awkward way or anything.

"It's almost 1 a.m"

Marlene was surprised.

"Is it?"

Dorcas giggled.

"Yes..." she said "We should probably get some sleep. It's a school night"

"Oh yeah yeah..." Marlene closed her eyes "Shit I am sorry for talking to much... I just wanted to ask you that question... I probably wasted your time and all... Shit..."

"Hey, McKinnon!" Dorcas interrupted "I talked a lot too. And... You didn't waste my time... This was... ahm... fun"

Marlene found herself smiling.

"Yeah it was"

Dorcas let out a small laugh.

"Okay... So..."

"Hey! Maybe we can... ahm..."

"Yes?"

"I do want to learn ballet one of these days" Marlene felt her cheeks on fire for a reason.

"So if you would like to teach me..."

"Oh sure. That would be lovely"

"Great!" Marlene was exclaiming. Why was she exclaiming? "Maybe this weekend?"

"I can't this weekend"

"Oh!..."

"Sorry..." Dorcas sounded really sorry "Training..."

"Yeah..."

"Maybe next week? After class"

"Yeah sure. Sounds lovely" Marlene smiled. But she was thinking what the hell was she going to tell her friends.

"Okay... Have a good night, McKinnon"

Marlene bit her lip. Shit. She could continue for another two hours. She wasn’t tired at all.

"Yeah you too"

"Bye"

"Bye, Meadowes"

Marlene opened up her mouth to say something more but Dorcas had already hung up. Marlene was left with a nice sensation. Like she could float or something. Her cheeks were warm. And she couldn't stop smiling. She was still smiling when she climbed up to her dorm.

"Where were you?"

Lily looked worried and pale.

"Having a smoke in The Common Room, mum"

"For two hours?" Lily crossed her arms "It is way past carefew. I should give you detention"

Marlene looked at her.

"Jesus, Lily. You need to relax"

"Smoking like that is going to wrinkle your skin, babe"

Mary was in her bed, applying cream all over her arms and legs. Mary's cream smelled delicious. Like cherry and cinnamon. And it was even a bit glittery. Marlene fixed her eyes on Mary for a second. Then she forced herself to look away.

"Don't actually care, babe" Marlene said "Hestia?"

"Having a shower" Lily answered.

"The longest shower in history" Mary rolled her eyes.

Lily sighed.

"Where you with the boys?"

Marlene raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Sirius and Remus..." Lily confirmed "The wankers who smoke"

"We heard you talking and laughing with someone" Mary added, still applying the delicious cream.

Marlene went bright red when she remembered the long and profound conversation she had had with none other than Dorcas Meadowes.

Dorcas Meadowes was part of the brainless bitches. Dorcas Meadowes was a Slytherin. Dorcas Meadowes was Nick Mulciber's half sister.

Mary and Marlene had some sort of rivalry with Alecto, Alice and Josephine (the brainless bitches). They were always insulting each other. And competing with each other. Alecto hated Marlene because she was obsessed with Sirius and she ironically thought Marlene had a thing for him too.

Lily was nice with them because she was nice with everyone. And she kind of had a friendship with Alice because they were both prefects. But even Lily admitted sometimes how brainless and superficial they were. Especially Alecto. The main brainless bitch.

So Marlene couldn't tell her friends she was actually kind of, what appeared to be Dorcas' friend now. They weren't even friends, were they? All of this was bloody weird.

"Yes!" Marlene exclaimed, walking to her own bed "I was chatting with Sirius and Remus..." then she laughed nervously "Those wankers always make me laugh"

Both Mary and Lily looked at her.

"Are you blushing, darling?" Mary asked.

Marlene panicked.

"What?" she asked. Then she laughed even more "No... No... Not at all.... Me, blushing? Naaaah...."

Mary was smirking and Lily just smiled amused.

"See what's is happening, Lily?" Mary asked, still smiling.

Lily bit her lip "I can see it"

Marlene looked between the two.

"What?"

"It is obvious, babe!"

"Is it?" Marlene panicked.

"You totally have a crush on Sirius!" Mary chanted "That's why you are red, happy and probably horny after spending TWO hours 'smoking' with him!"

Marlene wasn't red or happy or horny...

"Oh shut up..." she rolled her eyes.

Mary laughed.

"Did you snog?"

"No!"

"Right, poor Remus was probably there"

"Even if Remus hadn't been there we wouldn't have snogged!" Marlene covered her face with the pillow.

Lily was climbing in bed and picking up her book from the night stand.

"Oh Marly, honestly" Lily tutted "You deserve better. Sirius is a wanker"

Marlene couldn't agree more.

"The heart wants what it wants, Lily" Mary said, still smiling "And our dear Marly's heart had already picked"

Marlene swallowed at that statement.

[sombersafari]

Plen-Tea of Tea

Wakko: We've gotta go get some of that mango tea you like!

Dot: It's called apple tea! And I'm not drinking anything from a vendor, I’m perfectly content with just my banana milk. (and my regular ice tea, but only because you asked me to)

Wakko: No, you need mango tea in order to enjoy a good book. So we're going to buy it on Amazon or something!

Yakko: You can't buy something like that here. It'll ruin your taste buds. It tastes bad enough as it is.

Wakko: So let's take a break and eat our lunch somewhere else then! There are these really cute little cafés near the subway stop. They serve really good curry with coconut rice and everything!

Dot: What if they don't sell mango tea?! Or any other kind of teas for that matter! I can't drink the stuff if I'm allergic to something else!

Yakko: If you're allergic to anything, you should ask one of us if we have some allergy medicine. Or just get some water. (or coffee, maybe?)

Dot: Okay... fine. Let's go to those little cafés! But no one will talk to me there! I look like a freak, okay?!

Wakko: Hey, Dot, you know that's not true!

Dot: Well yeah I know it's not true, what do you think I am?

Wakko: A big dumb bunny!!

Yakko: Wakko, please shut up before Dot goes into full rage mode.

Wakko: Yeah, whatever! We’re changing the topic. Can you please help me pick out what type of tea to order first?

Yakko: Oh yes, I would love to help! Anything for my brother and sister.

Wakko: That’s right! So I was thinking this morning about the little café near the train station that sells all kinds of different drinks. We could totally get some mango tea and coconut milk, and maybe even coconut water, too~

Yakko: Coconut water is actually pretty good.

Wakko: Yes! And if we add the rest of the ingredients we can make a really delicious coconut chai tea!

Dot: Sounds great! But first let’s go see if anyone knows how to make mango tea.

Yakko: Yeah, let’s get moving. I’ve got nothing against mango tea per se, but it sounds weird when someone tries it for the first time.

Dot: That’s fair! Maybe we can try making them ourselves!

Wakko: I bet everyone would be happy to try their own mango tea, especially after we bought the drinks. And you’d make an amazing mango chai tea!

Dot: Alright, let’s go to this café.

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot: Boingy! Boingy! Boingy! Boingy!

*while Yakko, Wakko and Dot walked into the café*

Wakko: So, sibs... this isn’t so bad. I mean, this place does offer mango tea, so that’s nice. The food is really simple, but it’s not super bland. And I think we should definitely try coconut milk and mango chai. And maybe some of that coconut water too!

Yakko: I guess this is good. At least it isn’t completely devoid of flavor.

Dot: Why is that so weird? Isn’t this just a place for us Animaniacs to eat food and drink together without much fanfare or fuss?

Wakko: I’m not sure if you notice this, but people often seem to find it a bit weird when we start talking about eating food and drinking beverages. Like, why is this place different?

Yakko: Well, baby bro, for starters, this place is a café, so it isn’t meant for the general public. There aren’t that many places serving foods and drinks outside of restaurants and supermarkets, where the staff are probably mostly trained professionals who don’t have to interact with people much.

Wakko: Wow, that makes sense! Then wouldn’t people be able to say that they went to a café because they wanted to try the food or something along those lines?

Dot: Are you saying that people are just not used to us eating and drinking together?

Wakko: Yeah... I suppose so.

Dot: How about you boys get some coconut milk, some coconut water and maybe a little bit of that banana milk?

Wakko: Ooooh, that reminds me! We’ll have coconut chai!

Yakko: Coconut chai? I always thought that was coconut water.

Wakko: Well we might as well get that too, just in case! You know, as long as Dot and I finish our mango teas and drink our banana milk and coconut water.

Dot: Yeah... maybe. But I’m also thinking maybe that vanilla bean flavoring you’re always raving about is better than coconut water.

Wakko: Sure! Whatever works for you, sis!

Yakko: Okay, then that settles it, the three of us will each order a single serving of vanilla bean flavored mango tea and banana milk.

*they ordered what they said and headed out of the café, while drinking their drinks*

Dot: This isn’t half bad!

Yakko: You’re not complaining, though, right?

Dot: Not at all! In fact, I think I like this place more than the others. This café is really cozy, and it smells so good! It's like heaven!

Wakko: Right?! And it doesn’t seem to bother any of the other customers, either. They barely bat an eye at me when I sit there drinking my mango tea.

Yakko: You don't mind having a bit of spice in your life, Wakko? (you were born under a lucky star)

Wakko: No way! Spice is always important when we're on the run! If anything, it's more fun to spice up your life by doing things in moderation!

Dot: Yeah, I agree wholeheartedly. Just because some people can enjoy spice and sweets doesn’t mean that the rest of us have to.

Yakko: I suppose that’s true.

Dot: So what do you suggest?

Wakko: Let's all get some spicy tuna sticks and put our drinks on the table. And then we can start asking questions!

Dot: That sounds good. I wonder how much they charge for tuna sticks?

Yakko: Beats me, but I'm willing to give it a shot.

Wakko: Me too!

Dot: And I’m down for anything!

Wakko: That’s settled then! Let's go eat!

[spokewar]

@shattcredmind /✶ ── starter call.

"I just got back from a . . . less than idea mission with Quinlan." It was spoken with a wince and without need to further elaborate. They had all known each other as far back as he could remember—before any of them were even able to form words—and they knew what trouble their creche mate could be. It would be a lie to say Obi-Wan hadn't appreciated it when he was younger, hot-headed as he was, when it would take the attention away from him and his daily outbursts, but it became less charming as they aged. And the man knew it too, along with the fact that he was now owed years of back pay, which meant plenty of unusual missions, odd council favors, and answering his comm at all hours of the night. "Our first one in quite some time too, you would have liked to see it. He kept forgetting there was no longer a little blue padawan at his side and I think he misses having someone to lecture at. I'd keep an extra eye on Caleb if I were you, he might just try to steal him away." And Obi-Wan was speaking from experience; he'd taken Ahsoka on plenty excursions without Anakin's knowledge (though, perhaps that was just a benefit of being a grandmaster). "He thinks his work too volatile to have a youngling with him and I suppose he's right. That's how I feel about my own position as well, plus, I think my commander would have a heart attack if I brought another Jedi on board.

Very selfishly, I would prefer to wait until I'm in less danger of being shot at, stabbed, or captured before taking on one of my own." It wasn't a thought Obi-Wan had shared with Master Yoda yet and one he wasn't going to lest he get any ideas. He had just seen Anakin into knighthood and he didn't think his heart could handle another whirlwind of chaos so soon. "I truly don't know how you manage, I mean, how often do you even come here to the temple?"