#more of a drabble than anything

[digitalspool]

thinking about how dr ratio would comfort my oc/self-insert, iris (she is #traumatised) they r so silly

established relationship, potentially ooc? idk if i write ratio correctly lol. will have to go into iris' backstory at some point~

at first dr ratio's confused. he’s never seen iris so vulnerable before — she’s always been so closed off with her emotions, so it’s odd to see her near to tears.

“i’m fine.” her voice is cold, distant. but he can see that she’s not fine — the way her body trembles ever so slightly, she’s biting her lip, her eyes dart about the room nervously.

“clearly, you’re not fine.” dr ratio says, huffing as he draws close to her. his gaze softens as he takes in her appearance. he hates to see her so troubled. his voice is a touch gentler, “you can trust me. i promise i won’t judge. it would be counterproductive to judge you.”

iris hesitates.

“i’m sorry. this is unbecoming of me.” she bites her lip, looking away from him. “i… didn’t really want you to see me like this.”

she walks away, ignoring his looks of concern.

iris has always relied on herself to pick herself back up, because she believes that she isn’t allowed to rely on anyone. she feels that she is not enough for him. that… she shouldn’t be allowed to feel.

he only realises this just a bit too late.

he wants to feel disappointed at her most recent presentation, but... he can't bring himself too. the way she's slumped on the chair, as if lifeless...

he wants her to be like herself again. unsure of how to deal with her state, he falls back into familiar patterns, as if she's a student who's scored a less than adequate score on a test.

“why didn’t you come to me? you've made a complete fool of yourself. it’s foolish of you to not depend on me— you can lean on me!" his own frustration bleeds into his words. he doesn't understand - why isn't she trusting him? are they not close enough? he though...

"why are you being so stubborn? you-” he stops, noticing her fearful expression. just a few words and she’s already shirking away from him. he recognises that maybe he's being a bit too harsh on her... perhaps it's best if he takes a different approach.

“...my apologies." he murmurs. iris' gaze snaps to him. it's feels rare to see him apologise, but dr. ratio is smart enough to know when he's in the wrong. "i care for you, you realise that?” his voice is soft, unlike anything iris has heard before. “it is important that you’re taken care of… otherwise, how will a genius such as yourself flourish?”

a silence. iris still looks afraid of something. he can't tell what, though.

“i’m not allowed.” she whispers, her voice holding a slight tremor, “mother and father says i’m not allowed to feel. that i shouldn’t be so pathetic. that i am not worthy of comfort. seeking out others will lead to ‘punishment’.”

it’s enraging. the fact that she believes that she can’t rely on him, the fact that her parents have driven in the belief that she is not worthy of anything. her words allow him a glimpse of her past. it’s enough for him to realise that she’s experienced something truly harmful.

he wishes he could heal her from her traumatic experiences. but all he can do is hold her close and whisper words of comfort.

“don’t say that." he gently takes her hand and stares into her eyes, searching for any hints of emotion. all he can see is fear, shame and apprehension. "of course you're allowed to feel, don't be foolish. ignore your parents words. confide in me."

she still looks hesitant.

"i'm sorry." she murmurs, nodding at him, giving him permission to hold her close. immediately, he wraps his arms around her, pulling him into his embrace. so what, if the people are watching? her comfort, her emotional state is his priority right now. they can gossip all they want. as long as she's okay.

"don't apologise." he scolds gently. "you're not with your parents anymore, you know that, right? so their words hold no weight."

she nods, feeling her throat tighten, knowing that if she tried speaking, her voice would come out as a pathetic sort of croak. instead, she leans into him, feeling the tears escape her eyes.

it's been so long, since she's cried. it's been so long, since she has indulged in the comfort of another...

for now, dr ratio is simply glad that she's allowing him to comfort her.

[teddybeartoji]

office au! with coworker!gojo

he's the type to always be a little late. by a little, i of course mean a lot. he always bursts in the door with the biggest smile on his lips and four coffees in his hand. he winks at his coworkers, who then always blush and giggle out a hi, satoru! and you always roll your eyes at that. satoru nods his male coworkers, who always try to dap him up and start a conversation but he doesn't have time for that. he has things to do. (as if he isn't literally Late smh)

he answers the guys' question while he's walking – his eyes set on his favourite coworker. you. sitting in your cubicle, you're trying to ignore him and his dramatic enterance. that he does every single day. how annoying can he be? before you can roll your eyes again, a cup of coffee has landed on your table, making you glance over your shoulder.

he's blinding you, his grin is stretched so wide it's almost a bit creepy. he's standing right behind you, leaning his hand on your table right next to where he just placed the coffee. he's way too close for a co-worker and you gulp.

ugh.

"aren't you gonna thank your favourite coworker for bringing you coffee? whew, tough crowd, huh." his smile doesn't falter and he just leans in closer, his cologne clouding your senses.

UGH.

and he really does do it every single fucking day. he brings you coffee and he annoys you and he makes your eyes roll so hard you almost go blind and you hate to admit that he's kinda cute... it's whatever.

back to the coffees. so one of them is for you – he knows your order because he dug out the receipt from your bag when you weren't looking on his second day there. he almost got caught, too. but he only did that because you didn't wanna tell him your order!! and he was so insistent on bringing you coffee that he just had to find another way. he loved the way your eyes widened and how you tried to mask your surprised expression but nothing gets past his keen eyes. when you asked how he did it, he just told you that he guessed it. yeah, right....

the second coffee is for him. it's an insanely sweet latte. how do you know? he made you try it. more liked begged for you to try it. you also hate to admit that his puppy-dog eyes worked on you... he only drinks the special latte from the corner coffee shop and he refuses to drink the office "coffee". he's fancy like that.

the third coffee is for his second favourite coworker – kento nanami! they sure make an interesting pair. kento is the main reason why satoru even got the job. the latter begged him to pitch for him to the boss; he was so excited by the concept of Office Work and just had to try it out. he, of course, passed the interview with flying colors and kento regrets his decision to "help" him out in the first place. satoru yaps his ears off whenever he isn't doing the same to you and he's constantly leaving little notes for the man. you once saw one and it just had a miniature penis drawn on it. very mature.

and the fourth coffee is for your boss. satoru isn't sucking up like you originally thought he was. you think he just wants to bring her coffee? your boss is cool – she's in her forties and she has a strong voice, everybody always listens to her and she really does make for a very good boss. your guess is that satoru has a crush on her. (you're wrong. he also just thinks she's super fucking cool. literally nothing else to it.)

he's always wearing a fancy white button-up with a black tie loosely hanging around his neck and a pair of matching black slacks that hug his thighs so nicely that the women and the men of the office are always finding it hard to not stare at them. he gets an obnoxious ego boost from this.

he's constantly leaning on other people's desks, pushing his hips out and it really is hard to concentrate whenever he does it. the pose and the smug smirk he sends you when he catches you looking is making you feel hot. he always catches you too, it's so annoying. why can't he just continue doing whatever he's doing so you can admire him in peace?

he's loud, he's annoying and he's so fucking good at his job that firing him couldn't even be a passing thought. he actually does his paperwork rather fast; often finishing before you and that gives him the time to tease you for being slow. he does that way less than you expected though. only a few times in a day – enough to annoy you but never enough to actually make you upset or angry. he actually helps you sometimes. he can tell you don't wanna ask and he doesn't wanna make you feel bad - he'd rather watch you roll your pretty eyes at his stupid jokes with a small hidden smile than roll them with a deep frustrated sigh. he learned that the hard way.

he loves your smile. more often than not you can't keep the straight face you try to put up with him, making your loud laughter resonate throughout the whole office. oh, how his eyes shine at that.

long story short. he's infuriating. he's funny. he's way too good at his job. he's way too handsome. you loathe working with him and yet, you can't stop smothering him in kisses whenever you two "happen" to meet in the printer room.

[sanguinesweets]

syzoth x reader brainrot below the cut

• Your first kiss is kinda weird. Syzoth isn't used to giving/recieving affection in his human form, so your faces bump into each other a few times before you finally meet your target. His eyes are open the whole time, and you try to hold back giggles as not to discourage him.

• As he becomes more accustomed to kissing you, makeout sessions also become a thing you tutor him on. He seemed curious the first time you slipped your tongue into his mouth, not disliking it but also not really understanding it. So you guide him in moving his mouth against yours, and it doesn't take long for his prehensile, forked tongue to slip past your lips as he wraps his arms around you.

• Sometimes his long, scaly tail makes an appearance out of nowhere, even when the rest of his body is visibly human. You have learned through accidentally petting it before that it is... a particularly sensitive zone for him. You still blush when you think about the soft moan that escaped his mouth the first time you ran your fingers along the individual scales, hard muscle lying underneath.

• Syzoth is gentleman when it comes to kissing and caressing you... until you ask him to do otherwise. When you urge him to be a little more rough, to leave marks along your neck and grind down into you like an animal in heat, well, he can certainly deliver.

• Foreplay is also a newer experience for the Zaterran, at least in his human form. When your encounters start to get spicier, you have to show him the ropes a little here and there, but he's a quick leaner.

He takes immense pleasure in fingering you, the smell of your arousal driving him wild as he elicits whines and moans from your slackened jaw. Eating you out also becomes one of his favorite activities (and yours as well), as his tongue can drive you absolutely wild and make you cum like no one else ever has.

As for recieving, he's a little shy about it at first, but with time opens up to your gentle caresses and strokes, being driven wild whenever you have your hands on him. It's a constant struggle for him not to cum immediately when you take his length into your mouth, his pale green eyes rolling back into his head and legs shaking beneath you.

• He's very versatile when it comes to sex. There aren't any complaints if you want him to top you (though you do develop a system of how hard you want it, after a while, as some days you want to get dicked down like it's mating season, others, you want it nice and slow). Although he'll blush bright green if you point it out, he absolutely loves it when you're on top, and enjoys holding on to your waist as you ride him.

• He's a cold-blooded boy, so he'll definitely choose to snuggle close to you after activities, or during the night, to share some of your heat and take a little nap.

• Taking him to Walmart and buying him a tupperware of live crickets from their fishing section (his fav snack).

[milllersfae]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ blurb | coming back home with girlfriend!ellie after a night out

content warning: intoxication. all fluff this time!

a/n: finally got off the abby train to write this. also got really sad tonight and thought this would help a bit. enjoyyy <3

you made soft giggles into ellie’s shoulder as she tried to fish for her keys to your shared apartment. she reminded you more times than you could count to watch your drinks only to meet her with silent nods and thumbs ups as you shuffled your way back to the bar counter that night.

aaand now here you are, legs like jelly, barely able to make it up the front steps. ellie fixed her shoulder from under your arm in hopes of keeping you upright. you clung to her like a magnet as she finally wringled her keys free from her pocket and into the notches of the door handle before making a breathless entrance.

“you’re trouble baby, you know that?” she quipped, freeing her shoulder to to place you on the couch. your face was a hazy intoxicated mess, vision stuck on the woman looming over you. you reach for her arm, shaking it feverishly back and forth. “take me to beeeed, please?”

ellie made a exhausted groan before obligingly hitching her arms under you; lifting you up towards her bridal style. your eyes meet hers once again, dizzy and love stricken at the sight of your girlfriend.

“don’t stare at me too long, you may not wanna stop.” she said, following with a laugh as you made it through the doorframe of your bedroom. she placed you lightly on the cushion, placing the covers over you. she turned to walk away, not before you could catch her by her pinky finger and stopping her in her tracks.

“can I have a glass of water before you go?” you whined, lips pouted and needy. ellie was worn thin that night, but couldn’t deny the look of want you had given her. she nodded aptly, turning the corner of the room and soon entering back with a glass of water. she placed it at your tableside, before a second attempt to leave again.

“wait!” you exclaim. her head turned with a jolt, eyes ridden with drowsiness. you furrowed your eye brows pleadingly.

“can you stay?”

“honey I think you can fall asleep on your own, I’ll be back l—“

“please?”

ellie’s heart couldn’t take it anymore at the softness of your tone. she turned back and with a sigh and shed her jacket before rolling in bed behind you, holding you by your waist.

“you’re a handful girl! slow down on the drinking next time, please.” she placed a kiss on your shoulder as you nuzzled into your own pillow. you loved her when she was like this, careful with your every moment and holding you like you would slip right though her fingers. you peak a single eye out from under the pillow to look at her, and mumbled out a question.

“if i’m sober next time we go out, can I get a surprise?”

ellie rolled her eyes in humor, shaking her head with a sigh. “sure sure, you’ll get all that n’ then some, alright?” you untuck a hand out of your sheets to poke her cheek.

“promise?”

“I promise baby.”

with her gentle confirmation, you feel yourself drift into slumber.

[deathbyclown]

“What does Red-Hair even see in you anyway?”Crocodile squeezes Buggy’s cheeks between his thumb and fingers, making his lips push out. Buggy watches him nervously, sweat gathering at his hairline.

Crocodile stares down at him intently, eyes flicking over his face. He turns his face this way and that in his grip.

“Look at you. You’re not even that hot.” Crocodile murmurs, voice pitched down.

“Hey!” Buggy shouts, indignant, before being cut off by Crocodile’s lips, silencing his outrage with a searing kiss.

[rmd-writes]

if you have good writing vibes to spare, can you please send them my way? I’m tired of being plagued by writer’s block and the thing I thought was sucking ny creative energy is done and there’s a fic I actually want to start writing 😭😭

[kiwanopie]

heyyy!! do u think we can get some sort of drabble with crime!au kiyoomi and his fiancé?? i’d love to see how they interact ~~~~ :)))

You pick at a hangnail as dress shoed feet click before you.

You don’t lift your head as orchestral music muffles under the click of a shutting door. You don't even hear it. Too immersed in your own racing thoughts to hear anything outside of the rattling in your skull. It’s ironic how radiant you look in your wedding dress. So aglow you compliment the gemstones in your tiara. Because you feel so sick you could puke your guts out till your stomach lining tore. So high strung you haven’t slept since he parted with you the day before.

Your pupils scutter over nothing as you pick at the skin until it bleeds. Tear it off your nail until the elastic of your cuticle strips down to the root of your thumb, and feel it start to ail as the wound throbs. You barely notice. Rather, stay clueless to the sting in the midst of your silent daze.

But it’s short lived. Those familiar larger palms incase your hands in their loving grip, careful in their cradle. He’s flower petal gentle as he brings one of your hands toward himself and wraps your thumb in a thin bandage. And even in his crouched position beside the makeup chair does he almost see eye to eye with you, all 6’4 of him meagerly attempting to look as small as possible for a woman he has no intention of causing any more distress to.

His voice is balming, it always is when he addresses you. “What are you thinking about, angel?”

You silently furrow into his hands.

“I-I’m…”

“I don’t...” You shake your head. “I’m sorry. Everybody’s out there waiting for me and I-I’m-“

Kiyoomi cuts you off quietly. “Don’t even think about that. Today is about us. No one else.”

You frown.

“I’m… Kiyoomi… Out of all people…” And it’s a good thing this makeup is waterproof because you’re surely about to push it to its limit. “Why me? Why choose me?”

“Don’t ask me a question like that.”

“But why, Omi?” Your lip wobbles. “I-I’m not like you. I don’t think like you, I don’t have the same training that you do, o-or the strength to be able to handle a lifestyle like this. I’m not the wife of a kingpin. The only reason I’m here is because-“

Kiyoomi firmly shushes you as he stands to his feet. Too burly and too tall, blocking out the overhead lights till the raven tufts of curls on his scalp turn miscolored and fluorescent. Like always your eyes follow him in his movements, like always, he’s ginger as he pulls you in his grasp.

Your nose is mushed into the cotton of his button up, his lips are warm and definite as he presses them against your forehead. “I don’t care about titles or circumstance. I don’t care about any of those things...” Kiyoomi swallows. “I love you and I need you. If this lifestyle is what you’re worried about then I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe and taken care of.”

You sniffle against his dress shirt. Something like that should be comforting. Especially in the arms of your future husband - one half of a bonafide national empire, and you, soon to be its elegant latter halve. Saying you fear your safety may have been a little asinine to say. In this past year and a half, you haven't so much as gotten a splinter without being assured that whatever half-cocked piece of wood that wronged you would wind up making soot prints in some landfill. You could throw a rock and hit a corpse before it even got the chance to berate you. Saying something like that will only encourage him more. An excuse to distance you from your public freedoms, and hire men that all but follow you around and chew your food for you. And even though it’s pig shit to deal with, it's already habitual. It gives you room to keep your fears to a one man minimum. But with that being said,

Kiyoomi skims his nose down the bridge of yours till his breath is kissing fever spots on your Cupid’s bow. Shivery puffs of desperate air, overwhelmed in his distance. He pinkens like a schoolboy when he’s too close for too long. Amps himself up just to trill at the high he gets from being this near - but not near enough to taste the bliss that’s your candied lips. He loves you. - He loves you. He loves you. So much it makes him shudder. Even in the short time he’s had his hands on you his palms have gone sweaty. Making hotspots on your cheekbones as he thumbs your stray tears aside.

“I know we’re not the most… conventional couple,” Quasi-post-Stockholm syndrome? “How hard things were for you in the beginning, and how much it took for us to get here. I wish I could’ve done this the right way. - You deserve that much.”

“But I love you so much it makes me sick. It’s the only thing that keeps me breathing.”

You lean into his hands as he scoots away to get a good look at you. His lovesick eyes turn the whites of yours a stinging scarlet, and you hate that seeing him get choked up cuts you so deeply.

But he only ever really cries in front of you anyway. A man this neck deep in generational human trafficking, drug trading, arms dealing, and like a million other equally awful things, should have his fair moments to excuse himself for a quiet weep. “Kiyoomi…”

“I’m sorry,” He leans in for a watery kiss. “I’m sorry. Weakness is the last thing we need from me right now.”

You guide his head against yours, and share the weight with a linchpin. It’s so recurrent that it’s earnest when you console him. “Wellness is, baby. This is about the both of us.”

“I… already don’t know what my life would be like without you. I never think about it. Every day it’s you and when are you gonna be home. - Are you gonna come back to me in one piece? Will you still be you and will you love me the same? What would I do alone in that big house?”

You mirror his thumb as you sweep away his tears. “What would I do if I didn’t have you anymore?”

The way Kiyoomi melts into your grasp is like the anodyne of a baby bird, crooning as you assague him. There’s nothing on this earth that could give him the comfort you do, and the realization of that feels brand new every time.

It’s a fresh wound. Accustomed to your chains to the extent that each chafe feels like a kiss. Metal burrowing in torrid welts, but the key’s a stipulation. Only freed by requisition.

“It’s not about safety… if anything happens to us. I’d rather it be me.” You whisper. “If not to know you’ll keep living, my peace would be in finally resting. Not wondering. Not worrying.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

It’s a fresh wound. Accustomed to your chains to the extent that each chafe feels like a kiss. Metal burrowing in torrid welts, but the key’s a stipulation. Only freed by requisition.

“It’s not about safety… if anything happens to us. I’d rather it be me.” You whisper. “If not to know you’ll keep living, my peace would be in finally resting. Not wondering. Not worrying.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

[lunarmoves]

started writing a drabble, went "wait i can expand on this," and now i'm stuck with another long fic wip. whagt the fuck

[ddejavvu]

ANOTHER JAMES POTTER THOUGHT LMAOOO. k. so. hear me out. fake dating!James potter. sirius brings it up, the idea of you and James fake dating, cus youre all nervous about going to a family event cus it'll just be more comments about your lack of love life constantly. so sirius mentions that maybe you should just bring someone and say that theyre ur bf; it'd be easier AND you wouldnt be alone, muddling your way through awkward social conversations and such. remus, surprisingly, agrees with sirius when you laugh at the idea. ever the empath, he softly explains how it could be a great idea for you, and it'd solve a few issues at the same time. James doesnt really say anything till sirius suggests you bring him as your fake boyfriend, and James is immediately lighting up like "im your boyfriend??? yeah??" and he just.. cannot be told, no matter how many times you stress that he'd be a fake boyfriend, he just repeats that hes your boyfriiiieeeennnddd though. plain and simple.

he definitely takes his role seriously. makes excuses like, "we have to practice kissing, id kiss you ALOT as your boyfriend, yknow. and I dont want you to freeze up if I kiss you for the first time and you dont know how to react. we MUST practice." also holdsur hand all the time now and hes shameless about it - "but lovely, im ur boyfriend im meant to hold ur hand, cmonnn". even gets jealous like a real boyfriend would now (not that he didn't before, but now he lets it show).

at the event, also has a habit of stealing you away and keeping up the boyfriend role, im saying he lays it on THICK, doesnt matter if no one else can see it or is paying attention. im talking touchy, he probably nuzzles his face down into yours alot,constant love sick expression on his face. its gets so bad that even ur brother is like "wow, didn't realise youd get an actual boyfriend. like, what blackmail do u have on him?? did you finally submit to the devil and curse him or smthn cus Jesus fucking christ sis look at him, hes mooning over you from across the room. seems like an alright bloke though. maybe."

can imagine that hes touchy and sweet and etcetcetc but also. after ur little event is done, he stops joking and pretending, bends down to you and "so can I be your boyfriend now. pleeeaase?? ur auntie even said that I must be a lovely young man.. you think im a lovely young man too, right? so I can be ur boyfriend?? ]: please?"

FAKE DATING JAMES IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES WITH HIM!!!!!!!!! BECAUSE BECAUSE BECAUSE he'd want to 'sell it' just like you mentioned, and he'd plan these insane grandiose gestures that have you melting for real and then you sneak off to a private area and he's giggling like they totally bought it!! and ur weak in the knees like yEah they did!!

you stress so many times to him that he's your fake boyfriend. fake. FAKE. but he absolutely refuses to say that, he calls it method acting. he's gotta get in character, he can't tell himself it's fake all the time or it'll seem fake!

no bc even before you get to your parents house he's like okay so let's practice our kisses. we're gonna need casual cheek kisses, the 'i-don't-want-to-make-a-scene kiss', the 'we-think-we're-alone' kiss, the forehead kiss, the hand kiss, the air kiss- and he's rambling on about all the ways he's gonna smooch you up and your cheeks are on fire.

the days leading up to the event he does practice! whenever you walk out of a room he grabs your hand and tugs you down to kiss your cheek, he makes you kiss him goodnight every night before bed, he even insists that you give it all you've got when no one else is around so that you get comfortable being passionate with him.

he greets your mom like the perfect gentleman, bringing her a bouquet and offering to help with dinner. but when she politely declines the help he sits on the floor at your feet while you're on the couch, spreads ur knees so that he can sit between your calves, and hangs out with the kiddos on the floor. he's their big jungle gym, constantly has children crawling all over him, and they definitely ask him scandalized questions like 'you KISS her?!?!?!' and then he gets this big shit-eating grin on his face and leans up to lay a big fat wet juicy smooch on your lips and they all chorus 'ewww!' and run off to giggle about it somewhere else. it leaves james with no more playmates, so he hoists himself up onto the couch and wraps an arm around you, proceeding to be sickeningly sweet and domestic and cute. definitely a nuzzler, ur so right <33333

YES THE TEASING FROM EVERYONE ELSE SKGNG ur grandma is like 'i'm glad you found a good man before i die' and ur auntie is like 'does he have an older brother??' everyone is enamored by this loverboy you've brought home, and he plays the part so well that no one ever realizes it was fake.

which is good, because it isn't for long. he definitely begs for you to give him a chance at being your real boyfriend, but you don't bother even giving him the chance, you just tell him you already know he'll be a fantastic real boyfriend because he went so above and beyond when it was only supposed to be fake :') ur so far gone for him and it's the best night of his life, i guarantee it :')

[captainkingsley]

Ashton is going to wait for Fearne to make a move after all of this. They're not going to step out of their lane and try to bring back the playful game of stealing back and forth, but they are going to keep an eye out just in case.

He won't admit it. He'll be happy with friendship, of course he will be; this is the first group of friends they've got that haven't pushed him away. But there's going to be that little spark in the back of their head that waits for Fearne to make any indication that she has feelings beyond that.

Something in his pockets goes missing and his heart skips in hope, only to feel a lump in his throat when he finds that trinket in another pocket. When he really has misplaced something and Letters turns up with it in hand, he'll try not to look disappointed.

It won't be immediate, when it happens. Whether it be after the Feywild excursion, or after the scouting mission, Ashton will find that something really has gone missing — a chain, his gold pouch, a piece of jewelry — and he'll chalk it up to his own forgetfulness. Just something misplaced because Fearne isn't advancing with their little game anymore.

Until he catches a glimmer of silver or the fabric of their coinpurse, hanging from one long, clawed finger.

That, combined with a small, almost imperceptible smile, will let them know that things are healing over.

(And when they check their pockets later, there's a slip of paper with Fearne's sprawling handwriting on it. A request for them to see her, and she'll return his belongings at the price of a few words.)

(Some of the words hurt. Not all of them. Some of them are good. Those words make him cry more than the ones that hurt.)

[touyasdoll]

the day that your son utters his first “your mom” joke, Touya can’t wait to make him regret it.

“What are you doing? I need a ride!” Your impatient teenager huffs as he knocks on your bedroom door for the third time this evening.

Touya grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he immediately calls back, “Your mom!”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the amused smile on your face as you shake your head while your offspring groans on the other side of the door.

“Very mature,” you murmur as you steal a kiss from your husband and move to open the door, which the teen is now far removed from.

“Relax. I was lookin’ for my keys,” you explain as you flash them and nod towards the front door. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Touya’s still smirking when his son shakes his head and mutters, “Still gross,” as he turns to walk down the hall.

[timechange]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 — video rental.

JUNE 12, 1984

“Hey Doc, can we watch this one next?”

Most sixteen-year-olds, on the anniversary of their births, would mark the occasion with a sweet sixteen party. They would not celebrate by spending the night in a garage smelling of oil, fries, and flame-broiled burgers in the company of a crazy old man and his dog.

Then again, Marty wasn’t most sixteen-year-olds, and Emmett had never been more grateful for that.

“Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” he recites, squinting a little to see the cassette tape case as Marty waves it around, offering a bemused smile. “That over American Graffiti? Or Star Wars?”

“Those are great!” Marty’s quick to defend. “But I think this one might be my favorite. I mean, all of these are my favorites, but this one…” He grins. “It’s outta sight, Doc.”

“You might even say it’s… out of this world?”

“Jesus, Doc, that was terrible,” Marty rolls his eyes and groans, but his grin doesn’t fade. If anything, it brightens. “I kinda walked into that one, huh?”

“You did,” Emmett agrees. “But go on, go on. Tell me more.” He’d seen the movie before, of course; he’d gone to see it when it first came out in theaters. Ever since he’d first seen Frankenstein as a boy, he'd tried hard never to miss a science fiction release, but seeing Marty’s boundless enthusiasm makes him want to see it all over again through his eyes.

“My dad took me to see it,” Marty explains. “I must’ve been about… nine?… And yeah, it’s about aliens, and that’s cool, but it’s about way more than that. Connection, love, and music, Doc. How music brings us all together. How it can help us save the world. That’s why I think it’s my favorite movie— if I had to pick just one, y’know? Plus… I think it’s the first— hell, maybe the only— time I remember my dad being happy. Really, actually happy. I, uh… I guess that doesn’t make any sense, does it?” He runs his hand along his upper arm, looking away as a shadow clouds his features.

“Marty, my boy, it makes all the sense in the world.” Emmett gives him a reassuring smile, squeezing his shoulder firmly. “Let’s make some more popcorn and get started.”

Marty’s smile returns in an instant.

[delivish]

Little Stanman-ish drabble hehee;; ✨✨

Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman were already waiting at the bus stop. 

They used to all walk together, but ever since Randy had packed the family up and moved them out to that fucking farm, Stan had been making the daily trek by himself. Of all the things he hated about living on a farm, having to walk to the bus stop alone was probably the thing he hated the most, and that was really saying something because he found fresh things to dislike about it nearly every minute of every day. Stan had sort of hoped that his mother's common sense would have won out, and they'd be back in town by now—

 (back to the same old routine, the same old neighborhood in the same old slightly-shabby house, the same shitty walk to school in the cold, half-halfheartedly listening to Kyle and Cartman argue about some stupid thing or another, and, god, he'd wanted to be anywhere else back then but now Stan would give anything to have that sense of normalcy)

—but to his immense disappointment, Sharon seemed to have adopted a 'let's just make the best of it' attitude. Stan had been sulking for months: shirking his chores, ignoring his homework, snapping at his family when he saw them, isolating himself in his room when he didn't, and it must have been bad because his mom had finally looked him in the eye this morning and told him with grave seriousness that life wasn't fair. People didn't always get what they wanted simply because they wanted it, and he could either learn to roll with the punches or spend the next few years completely miserable. 

"...bitch," Stan muttered under his breath as he stormed out, expecting—or maybe only hoping—to feel cool and smug and vindicated, but he'd just felt bad. Stan loved his mother, but she just didn't get it. 

Nearly every day had been a bad day since he'd moved, and today was no exception. School had become his reprieve, but Stan hadn't been looking forward to showing up this morning. If it weren't for the knowledge that Kyle and Kenny would only have given him more shit than they already had, Stan would have come up with some excuse to stay home.

Both Kyle and Kenny turned to stare as he trudged up. Kyle arched a brow at him, curious, whereas Kenny was already starting to turn red with the effort of holding in his laughter. Cartman was completely oblivious, his nose buried in his phone, apparently having decided to ignore them all for whatever it was he happened to be looking at. Stan could see the doubt written all over Kyle and Kenny’s expressions, smug and teasing: Dude, there’s no way you won’t chicken out. 

Stan clenched his teeth, turning his attention away from them and back to Cartman—he was sure he’d never spent more than a second or two looking at the boy, and even then, only to check that he was out of range of whatever scheme Cartman happened to be brewing that day.

They’d grown up together and went to school together, and, for some reason, they all hung out together; he’d known the guy literally all his life, so Stan supposed Cartman was his friend in that sense, but it'd never really felt like it. Cartman had always been a nuisance at best and actively hazardous to one’s health at worst, and Stan had learned a long time ago that the best way to deal with Cartman was to quickly check that you weren’t actively in his sights, then step the hell aside. He had none of Kyle’s bravery, his audacity to go toe-to-toe with him; watching them fight was like watching an unstoppable force ramming up against an immovable object, and sometimes, Stan couldn’t help wondering where he fit into all that, jealous in some strange and inexplicable way because he'd never driven anyone crazy the way Cartman and Kyle drove each other crazy. 

Cartman was short and fat and had a soft, round baby-face with full lips and thick brows that Stan realized he must trim to keep them looking so neat. His skin was perfect, and Stan kinda hated that because he’d been plagued with breakouts since the beginning of high school. Cartman finally glanced up as Stan stepped closer, only just now noticing he was there—his eyes were dark brown and fringed by equally dark lashes, and his expression cycled rapidly through a kind of blank surprise to an equally blank concern as Stan leaned in even closer. 

“Uh. Can I help you?” Cartman said. “Your little boyfriend’s over there,” he added when Stan made no reply; he would feel Kyle and Kenny’s eyes on him, and Cartman was beginning to frown, and Stan knew better than to let Cartman build any sort of momentum. 

So Stan cupped his face, hauled Cartman close, and pressed his lips to his. 

Stan wasn’t really sure he could even call this a kiss because Cartman’s lips were just kind of hanging slack while he was exaggeratedly puckering his own and mashing them against Cartman’s face like a pillow he meant to smother him with. Cartman’s cheeks were warm under his palms, like cupping a sun-ripened peach fresh off the branch, and he smelled surprisingly good up close, like fresh soap and moisturizer. Stan wasn’t sure why it surprised him so much to think that Cartman might be vain enough to put real effort into his appearance—because, of course, if anyone would be, it would be Cartman—but it did. Cartman had gone stiff and still under his hands. Stan could hear Kenny busting a gut, but the sound was curiously far away, his guffaws drawn-out by Stan's disgust at what he was doing and his determination not to be perceived as a bitch, as someone too chickenshit to follow through on a losing bet. 

Except he wasn’t disgusted, not really—Cartman was warm and soft, and he smelled good, and those full lips of his were as plush as they’d looked, and for half a second, Stan thought he felt Cartman’s mouth tremble against his. Had Cartman ever been kissed? Somehow, Stan doubted it. 

But in the next half-second, it was over. Cartman was shoving him away, his face a shade of red Stan didn’t think he’d ever seen on him before. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, staring at Stan accusingly. 

“‘Ey!” Cartman hissed. “What the hell?”

“Damn, dude,” Kyle remarked conversationally. “I didn’t actually expect you to go through with it.” 

[good-beanswrites]

Another Truman show thing: the scene where Truman gets kinda physically violent, maybe with mu, she would break character maybe at one point (T3)

This was such an interesting concept, thank you!! OUGH I didn't realize my silly fix-it was capable of such angst until I started writing 😭😭😭 There's no graphic violence/gore, but still warning for Es pushing Muu around.

Muu’s tears for Haruka may not have been real, but these ones were definitely genuine. If anything, she’d been jealous that Haruka got to spend the majority of this trial in the plushy facility rooms with good meals, while the others were still in these cold cells. However, face-to-face with Es, who was grieving someone she cared just as deeply about, she found her sobs came easily.

“You could have stopped him.” Everything about Es was shaking – their voice, their hands, and as she would soon realize, their composure. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

“I d-didn’t know…” She covered her mouth, shaking her head frantically. “I didn’t -hic- think he would…”

“But you did!” Es’s arm flung out, knocking over their chair. The clatter rattled in Muu’s ears. “You knew, because we all knew!”

Muu leapt up, in part due to the clatter startling her, and in part to speak her piece. “Then why didn’t you stop it? If you -hic- if you had just –”

“If I had just what? Forgiven you?” They roared.

“O-o-or him!” 

“You’re trying to pin the blame on me? How dare you!”

Es shoved her backwards. She gasped as she hit the concrete wall.

“But why -hic- why is it my fault? You let it happen, and he did, and Shidou, and everyone!” 

“You really can’t take an ounce of responsibility, can you?” 

Muu tried to flee, but as emphasis on their last words, Es pushed her again. She went flailing and grabbed onto Es’s uniform. The pair went tumbling to the ground, Es still trying to jerk her around. Muu winced at the pain as she slammed into the cold stone.

“Why are you doing this to me? -hic- It wasn’t me, I swear!”

“It was all you!”

Es was on top of her, their voice shrill and their eyes wild. She had always thought it was an exaggeration when Jackalope gave them notes to make their eyes look so intense and frenzied in their videos. 

All of the sudden, she realized that people really do have that look when they’re ready to kill you.

“You monster!” 

Muu’s vision sparked as Es’s palm struck her cheek. She’d never been slapped before. The sting seemed to seep all the way under her skin. 

“People like you are –!” 

Their words were cut short as Muu delivered a slap of her own. She hadn’t meant to. She’d been so focused on keeping her mouth shut, and not blurting out the best defense (“he’s not dead!”), she hadn’t even considered her self preservation instincts would kick in. Her whole body itched to throw Es off, to hurt them before they could hurt her. In all honesty, it was a miracle she’d only tried a slap.

The pair stared at each other with wide eyes. The shock had snapped Es out of their fury.

“But you… how…”

The prison bell rang, far earlier than it should have.

Muu shook her head. “I… don’t know…” 

As the room changed shape around them – revealing intricate parts of machine that did absolutely nothing – she lay there crying. Crying about what Es had said. Crying from fear of them. Crying that she may have ruined the whole experiment. Crying because in every way, she had failed the people she wanted to help.

Es rose, stumbling away from her. 

“Muu.” Their voice was hoarse. “I didn’t mean for things to get out of hand.” Their eyes flicked nervously to her, wondering what had caused this sudden breach of the prison’s main restriction. “Perhaps… Milgram makes exceptions when I’ve taken things too far. I… I didn’t mean to push you to that point.”

She nodded weakly, rising off the ground. She took her seat again. 

There was a moment where they both sat in heavy silence; both afraid of what Es was capable of. 

“Prisoner 004, sing your sins.”

[rocococoa]

snippet of where hawk and tim going cherry blossom viewing - the two men lounging on a blanket as they watch branches decorated with soft pink colored blossoms sway with the breeze.

tim’s heart skips a beat and he can’t help but laugh at how some of the petals tuck themselves into the curls of hawk’s hair. there’s a slight nip in the air, and from a bag, hawk produces a tumbler of hot coffee, as well as some pastries wrapped in parchment paper. hawk can’t help but take multiple pictures of tim - the young man making goofy poses by the trees (in which a very enamored and sneaky hawk takes an opportunity to pull tim in with his scarf and lay soft kisses onto tim’s flushed cheeks), tim mid-bite into a slice of lemon cake and the crumbs on the side of his lips, tim softly asleep next to him, eyelashes dusting his cheeks as the petals fall around them.

[cebwrites]

cheap booze

oc | gen word count: 0.4k

Teenagers will do dumb teenage things. They have from time immemorial and will continue to in the far, far future.

So all things considered, Genma isn't surprised when he finds his baby brother sneaking a few cans home to drink with his team mates while Hyou and Takashi are away. Caught the smell of cheap beer in the long before he heard Shisui's loud, intoxicated laughter on the veranda.

Curly in question was just teasing Rio for smoking and drinking despite being the team's resident as Genma appeared before anyone could even think of trying to hide their crimes, right after Rio told Shisui to fuck off.

Not that they'd have a chance in HELL of convincing him that this wasn't what it looked like.

Frankly Genma wasn't even mad that they were drinking at all, it was the fact that he thought they were smarter than to do it unsupervised. Boys will be boys and all that, though. He turned to his baby brother in question to start off the oncoming lecture - suspiciously quiet through Shisui's sputtering and Rio's sheepish muttered apology.

The question of what he had to say for himself slowly withered in Genma's throat when Tae came into full view; curled into himself against a pillar, swirling around the contents of a can he'd been sipping idly from the entire time. Tae's gaze didn't meet his brother's through the tears when he asked if just maybe he could learn how to act a little more normal, maybe then his father wouldn't go out of his way to avoid him, making a note about how this brand was one Jiraiya would always skip for the low alcohol content.

Genma was still mad, frustrated even, they'd all get the proper chewing out they deserved for being dumb irresponsible kids. But comfort took precedence right now that everyone was mostly sobered up from this confession.

Tae still doesn't like the way cheap booze makes him feel. Rio doesn't serve it at their bar.

And he'd be reticent to say, but from then on Genma never fully could hide his distaste when the Toad Sage was mentioned or present, the image of his normally perfectly reserved baby brother sobbing open, drunken tears into his shoulder that night bubbling just underneath the surface.

Genma counts himself lucky that Tsunade was elected Hokage instead. He doesn't think he'd be able to keep an impassive farce if he was tasked with guarding Jiraiya constantly.

He'd served as a tokujō for the Kage since Minato, but the prospect of having to bite his tongue constantly for the sake of his job made him consider quitting.