#penguin triumphant

[deakwithit]

can yall send me asks about the penguin so i can infodump im begging u..

[cryptocollectibles]

Batman Penguin Triumphant (1992) by DC Comics

Written by John Ostrander, drawn by Joe Staton and Bob Smith, cover by Brian Stelfreeze

[kerakitty]

Well there’s a name I wasn’t expecting to see while reading old Batman comics.

[akeldama-art]

One of my comics was published in the school paper’s open forum when I was 15! (School year 2005-2006)

The paper had its own regular comic strip called Perry the Penguin. I thought it was the stupidest thing ever, and sometime during my freshman year I had come up with a zombie character named Larry. Because I didn’t like the Perry the Penguin comics, I drew this comic. Perry’s creator then drew a comic where Perry defeated Larry. I started drawing a comic where Larry teams up with Willard (Crispin Glover version) to get back at Perry but that never went anywhere. Neither did the comic where Larry made turtle stew for Perry (who had a friend named Terry the Turtle).

Looking back on it now I think it’s really funny and I wish I could meet whoever drew Perry the Penguin and thank them for being such a good sport about my dumb little zombie comic. 🧟‍♂️

[mandiemegatron]

One Piece has made "putting your prized, favourite, iconic hat on your s.o. as a form of claim, protection, comfort, promise, etc" now one of my favourite comfort/romance tropes.

Now apply this to the boys and their hats 🤭💕

I am SO sorry this took so long to finish but I got hit with a wave of sad and really needed my boys comfort 🥺💖 this was such a cute idea, I just couldn't not finish it !

ミ★ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘗𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘗𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘏𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘠𝘰𝘶! 𝘍𝘦𝘢𝘵. 𝘓𝘢𝘸, 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘗𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘯 ♡ ★彡

Law ;

This man didn't let anyone touch his hat. Even when it came to wash day, he was overly protective the entire time you washed it, breathing over your shoulder with wide and concentrated eyes. It was like he was waiting for you to make one wrong move so he could sweep in and show you "how it's done," though every single time, you always cleaned it with love and warmth. The action caused Laws heart to feel like it was in a vicegrip, torn between ripping his beloved hat from your hands and watching you wash it with such soft motions. He always found himself holding his hat to his face when he got to his office, his spotted hat hiding his burning face from the outside world as he breathed in the clean smell, the fabric smelling like laundry detergent and the gentlest whiff of your perfume. He secretly loved it.

It was a rough battle. Most of the Heart Pirates walked away unscathed, but you, with your terrible luck, walked away with a gnarly gash on your arm. Law had sat you down in the infirmary, his hands almost rough as he looked you over, a deep set frown on his face as you tried to wave him off. "It's just a slice, Captain," you murmured, not wanting to show him any signs of pain. He grunted in response, making sure you didn't have any other cuts to your soft skin before setting to work on your injured skin. You went to bite out a retort but fell quiet as he uncharacteristically plopped his hat on your head, the action stunning you and lulling you into a soft silence. When he was done, he ripped his gloves off and tossed them aside, humming to himself as he stared at his handiwork before grinning down at you and taking his hat from your head. He smoothed out your flyaways with a comment of, "If I knew it was that easy to keep you quiet, I'd have done that ages ago." You didn't sleep well that night, tossing and turning while thinking of how soft and warm his hat felt. You idly wondered if his arms would make you feel the same.

You were winning, for the first time ever, probably thanks to the alcohol running through all five of you. Card games were a big thing on the Polar Tang, and it didn't matter how bad you sucked at them, your best friends and your Captain always made sure to drag you along to play. "If I have to play, then so do you," Law would retort every single time you tried to refuse. You sat at the small round table, you and Ikkaku the only ones still wearing most of your clothes. Shachi and Penguin were down to their boxers, with Law in his spotted jeans and topless, though his prized hat still sat atop his head. "I'm coming for that hat," you bit out, slapping a card down with a laugh. "Draw four, mofo!" Law only rolled his eyes as he picked up four cards with a "Tsk," before groaning out, "Pass." You let out a triumphant laugh as everyone else placed a card or drew, bringing it back to you. You grinned and slapped down your last card, pointing at Law with a wide grin as you laughed, "Hat, please!" He had the most cards, which made him the loser and with a loud sigh, he took his treasured hat from his head and gently placed it on your head. Your eyes met and he grinned as your cheeks bloomed into red, his tattooed fingers reaching out to pull at them jokingly. "You look so stupid right now," he chuckled out, ignoring the pointed looks the other three were giving you two. "Yeah, but I'm your stupid, and you love it," you bit back before you could stop yourself, causing all three boys to burst out into laughter. You shared a look with Ikkaku, who simply gave you one in return that said, "I told you so!"

Shachi ;

This man was the living embodiment of 'Sharing is Caring', and share he did! There was nothing Shachi loved more than watching your face burn brightly whenever he plopped his orca hat onto your head. Every time, he'd grin and press a bashful kiss to your cheek before walking off, either tying his hair up or tossing his old green one on, just to feel less naked. Every chance he got, he'd throw his hat onto your head and it would pull you out of whatever trance you were in, whether you were reading or cutting veg for dinner prep, the stunned look on your face always caused his heart to swell. He knew it was real love when he put his hat on your head and you frowned, pulling it away from your head with a comment of, "This fuckin' stinks, Shachi, I'm gunna wash it for you." No one ever offered to wash his things ever, and your little acts of love truly made him fall harder for you every damn time. When you came back a few hours later, coming up behind him and placing the orca hat back onto his head, he turned in his seat and grinned up at you, pulling you into his lap and covering your face in a million kisses. "It smells like you!" He laughed out, your own laughter mixing with his at his actions. When he pulled away to smile lovingly down at you, you knew then and there that you'd love him forever, pulling him into a real kiss that caused Penguin and Uni to burst into loud, "OOOOOHHH!!!"s, knowing in the back of your head that you just inadvertently caused Shachi to owe them both money.

It was terrifying, watching your beloved crew get beaten down by these Pirates. You fought as hard as you could, to the point you had angry tears streaming down your face as you somehow fought back two men who were too strong for you. In a cheap shot, you were hit from behind and fell to the ground. You vaugely heard your name be screamed out, your eyes squeezing shut as you waited for the final blow only for nothing to come. You stared up as nearly sobbed as you saw Shachi and Law standing in front of you, both their swords impaling the two men you were fighting, watching with wide eyes as the pirates fell to the ground, dead. Law ran off, shouting for his other crew members as Shachi turned and fell to his knees, bringing you to his body. You sobbed openly, clinging to him tightly as he pulled you from the ground and lifted you in his arms. Everything around you two fell away into silence as he stared down into your watery eyes, a deepset frown on his face as he bit back tears of his own. Gathering you into a safe space, he ripped his hat from his head and placed it on yours, pulling it down to cover your eyes as he rasped out, "You'll be safe here. I'll be right back." Luckily, Bepo was nearby and protected you from any leftover men who staggered too close to you. When the fight was finally over, with the enemy dead and bleeding into the ground, you were pulled into a tight embrace, knowing by touch it was Shachi and you clung to him in response. Penguin, Ikkaku and Clione kept asking if you were okay, only to fall silent as Shachi glared up at them, holding you tighter to him as a sign for them to fuck off. When they finally did, you looked up at your bloodied and injured boyfriend and bit back another sob as he slowly got out, "I'll never let anyone hurt you, ever." You gave a heavy nod and hid your face in his neck, not bothering to hide your tears as he continued, "I'll always protect you. Always."

Waking up next to Shachi every day was a blessing and a curse, considering the part-fishman was a living furnace. On cold nights and days, it was a blessing waking up toasty and warm in his arms, his hat squished between your heads. (He really needed to stop falling asleep with it on.) On the days it was too hot on the sub, it was a mission to pry yourself from your grasp, almost struggling to breathe as he would only pull you closer and hold tighter. Even during chore time, he'd be clinging to you and would pout everytime you ripped your hand from his, both your palms already sweaty. "Please babe, you are killing me," you nearly sobbed out, your boiler suit tied around your hips as you paused doing dishes to fan yourself with a handmade paper fan. Shachi was dressed similarly, though his arms were tucked around your waist tufhtly, his face pressing soft kisses to your shoulder and neck. "Mm, but you're so tempting," he purred out, nipping at the side of your neck that caused you to shiver. You simply pulled away and glared at him, ignoring the goofy grin on his face as he made grabby hands towards you. "You better stop," you hissed out, shaking your fist at him only to stop as he plopped his hat onto your head and walked away pouting. "FINE, but only because you asked sooooo nicely..." You only rolled your eyes and went back to washing dishes, knowing you'd have to make it up to him in the showers later.

Penguin ;

This man was not a sharer. At all. You had to BEG the guy to try on his hat, to which he only let you wear it for a hot second before ripping it off your head and stuffing it back onto his own. You'd always pout, tugging on his boiler suit like a child begging their parents for something in the store, and he'd give a heavy sigh and reply, "No, now stop asking," though his tone was always playful and never hurtful. You'd often ask why he'd never share his hat with you, and he'd always respond, "It takes away from my dangerous and mysterious nature~" with a wiggle of his fingers in your face, causing you to burst out laughing. He loved hearing you laugh, and even though his answer never changed, it always pulled laughter from you. It wasn't hard for him to fall for you, your bright smile and loud laugh causing him to hide his burning face further under his namesake hat. How could he hide his love for you if you were wearing his hat?!

Penguins heart fell as he watched Bepo carry your unconscious body into the infirmary, rushing in after the mink only to be stopped by Shachi at the door. He tires to pull away, but Shachi holds tight, only shaking his head as the doors snap shut. "No, no no, let me go Shachi, they can't be alone, they need me-" Shachi only held tighter, murmuring lowly to his best friend, "They're in the best hands on the entire Grand Line. Just be patient." Penguin roughly pulled away, glaring at Shachi and trying to open the door again only to be stopped as Bepo walked out, a solemn look on his face. Penguins heart shattered, and he fell to his knees, pulling his hat low over his face as he silently sobbed into it. Bepo and Shachi shared a long look, frowns on both their faces as they bent down to comfort Penguin as best they could. When Law finally emerged from the infirmary, the three boys lifted their heads and sighed a breath of relief when he finally spoke. "They'll be fine. They got hit hard during the fight, but they'll pull through -" Penguin didn't even let him finish, pushing past him and immediately going to your side. His heart fell through the floor, seeing your bruised skin that wasn't hidden under bandages. Pulling a chair beside your bed, he ripped his hat from his head and gently tugged it onto yours before gathering your hand into both of his. He silently wept into the back of your hand, ending up falling asleep at some point. When he finally woke, your hand was slowly running through his messy hair, a tired but loving expression on your face as his eyes met yours. He shot up and held your face in his palms, uncertainty all over his face until you croaked out, "Just kiss me already, stupid." He didn't think twice, leaning down and capturing your lips in his own as gently as he could. He pulled back when you winced, pain in your eyes as he stared down at you. "You look like shit," you joked out, causing him to give a broken laugh of his own. "You look worse," he barely got out, holding your hand in his again. You simply grinned in response, commenting lightly, "At least I got your hat." He gave his own grin in response and leaned over to kiss you again, slowly removing his hat from your head to stuff onto his own. "Yeah, yeah. You're lucky I love you."

Thank you SO much for this ask, I hope this was okay! I wanted to add more but after writing that almost angst with Peng, my heart just would NOT let me write anymore 😭😂 thank you for always being a solid mutual, I love seeing you in my inbox and my notes !! I hope you all enjoyed this little blurb 🤭💖

If yall want me to add to any of these, please let me know ! 💖💖💖💖

[ravenna-reid]

Whiskey, Sultry Tunes & Vigilantes

JASON TODD x JAZZ CLUB SINGER READER

Jason just needs to go to the most famous Jazz club in Gotham to gather intel then quickly leave, but a certain singer makes him stay longer than he anticipated... No warnings <3

I actually rlly like this one so pls lmk if you do too!

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

A magnetic violet blanketed the room from the lights that constantly streamed inside of the club, setting a soft, sensual mood. Guests sat before the stage, a few residing along the quiet bar. Subtle discussions and the clinks of scotch and wine glasses simmered in the air, along with the melancholic yet powerful tune that came from the band and their instruments. The sombre cello, the soulful piano, the triumphant trumpet.

And the famous Jazz singer of the club.

The Blue Room’s jewel. 

Sparkling diamonds hung from your ears and adorned your neck. Glistening eyeshadow, slick eyeliner and plump lips. A black silk dress hugged at your body and draped down to the floor, gloves the same colour running up above your elbows complimenting your dress. The wig you wore looked unbelievably real, the cherry red catching glints of the deep purple from the stage lights above as you sung the sultry tune. Men from across the city always came to watch you sing. Voice sweet like honey, smooth like whiskey, strong like thunder. All eyes were trained on you, and people either wanted to be you, or be with you. There was no inbetween.

Jason had merely heard the gossip about the Blue Room. About its perfect blues music and its reputation for the best served scotch and wine.

He’d also heard about the alluring singer that sang there almost every night.

But not being a fan of crowds or anywhere where parties were often thrown, he never went. Until tonight.

“And you’re sure Black Mask and Penguin are conspiring together in the private booths at this club?”

Dick had asked Jason earlier that week as they both went over their limited evidence on the case in the Batcave. 

“No, that’s why I’m going to go investigate.” Jason answered without looking up from the papers sprawled out in front of him. 

“It’d be a shame if it were true,” Dick sighed, “I love that place.”

“Of course you do.” Jason shook his head.

“Can I come?”

“No.”

Leaving the bustling alleyway behind as he entered the club, the atmosphere around him immediately shifted. The rhythm and blues that so often enveloped the club filled his senses instantly. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes, the LED lights that set the mood for the performance, the sound of the band…

And her. 

One gloved hand holding her microphone, the other gently stretching out to the crowd as she lulled them with her song. Her voice, her words, her eyes…

A softness painted her expression, mixed with subtle confidence and a magnifying aura. Elegance. Strength. Heartbreak.

So much emotion in just one song. So much emotion lacing her angelic voice. 

Jason was irrevocably drawn to you. 

The sudden sound of bellowing laughter from a table in front of him drew Jason back into reality. And he was soon reminded that he was there for work, not for entertainment. 

Blood rushing and heart racing – which was actually ridiculous – Jason ignored you and turned down the side of the bar to the more secluded part of the club. Round, mahogany tables that were much larger than the ones before the stage were occupied by couples. The music became more drowned out at that end of the club, more suitable for those who were wanting a romantic date night. Further down though, along the wall and past the bar sat the four private booths. Two were open; a lit bulb in the centre and purple velvet couches on display. But the other two had their curtains drawn.

As Jason crept towards one of the closed booths, his ears fought to listen to your voice. His legs fought to drag him back to the stage. His eyes fought to steal glances of you. Coming to a halt at the first booth, he ripped the curtain back. Two lovers, one on the other's lap, immediately look up at Jason, mortification frozen on their faces. 

“Sorry, wrong booth.” He quickly said before hastily drawing the curtain closed. His cheeks became a rose red as he moved to the next booth. 

Green eyes, so horrifically mesmerised, found their way back to you again as he searched for your figure through the crowd, his eyes following your voice. It was coming to the end of the song, and just as you were hitting the high note, a silence fell over the room as people listened. Giving a subtle shake of his head, he pulled himself back together.

“Come on, Jason.”

Jason was just about to draw the curtain to the second booth open when –

Ears straining to re-hear what he thought he heard, Jason let go of the curtain and looked to his side. Muffled yells could be heard. Past the bar and bathrooms down a dimly lit corridor. A man in an ivory tuxedo, obviously custom made, gripped at the collar of a man in black before him. The man he was grabbing looked fearful as he desperately tried to talk his way out of the situation. But the man in the tuxedo was past practical discussions. He wanted something. And he didn’t want to have to wait any longer. Cheeks a violent red and the hair he had left a dishevelled mess, he finally let go of the man. 

Thunderous applause caught Jason completely off guard as his focus shifted back to you. 

You gave a small, polite bow to the audience, and when you looked back up out into the crowd, your smile instantly gleamed brighter than the lights and jewels that surrounded you. You took the air from Jason’s lungs. 

The band members behind you nodded their heads in appreciation to the crowd. Whistles filled the air alongside the applause. Someone threw a daisy onto the stage. Jason scoffed.

Daisies aren’t nearly pretty enough for her.

Looking back down the corridor to see what the men were doing now, his heart sank when he found they were gone. 

“Shit.”

Ignoring his desire to look back at you one last time, worried you were finished for the night, Jason began down the corridor. Once he reached the end, there were two doors. One that he was sure led to the back of the building where the dumpsters and connecting alleyways sat. Another, however, looked like a small office. Thankfully, the door was slightly open. Jason peered through it to find the one who was just abused by the man in the tuxedo sitting at the desk, head in his hands. Stacks of paper were his only company, alongside framed pictures, certificates and awards for his business, posters of famous singers, and a shimmering gold plaque.

A plaque that read his name.

Jason took a mental note, but his eyes wandered as he wondered where the man in the ivory tuxedo went.

The man in black was sudden in his movement, sending a spike of anxiety through Jason’s chest. He quickly stood from his desk and went through another door in his office; a door that led to the dressing rooms. As Jason listened, he assumed the man was talking to and preparing the other singers that would soon take your place for the remainder of the night. Taking his chance, Jason quickly crept into his office and grabbed a few notes, envelopes, and folders from his desk. Slipping them into his jacket, he was gone in a blink of an eye as the man made his way back into the room. 

But performers were beginning to fill the back area, and Jason had to quickly leave. Walking back down where he came, he opened the back door and stepped outside.

The warm breeze instantly brushed through his raven black hair and against his skin. The dark, Gotham night sky stared down at him from above. Distant sounds of traffic filled the air. It was in no way better than the atmosphere inside of that club, but it was familiar. Comforting. 

Securing the documents he had obtained in the inner pockets of his jacket, Jason was ready to leave until something caught his eye. 

Silky gloved hands ran up and down your arms. Soft cherry red curls swayed against the skin of your back in the wind. 

Jason couldn’t believe it. It was you. It was actually you.

Your eyes were trained on the night sky above, searching for the stars that hid behind the clouds, and although Jason couldn't see your face, he could imagine the serene expression that was painted across it. 

What were you doing out here?

It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he got to see you one last time before he left. And suddenly all thoughts and questions centering around the man in black and the man in the ivory tuxedo vanished like mist.

He soon realised you hadn’t heard him come outside. He continued standing nimbly behind you. Fiddling with his fingers and feet rooted in the ground like trees. Heart beating faster than a hiccup. 

Say something. Say something. Say something. Say something.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone you know.”

Voice so soft, so gentle. You looked over your shoulder up at Jason, your eyes catching the light from the street lamp beside him.

Jason’s breath hitched.

Shit.

Part Two Soon

[sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog]

Hi, I know you're an unpaid intern for the Awesome Coffee Company, but I needed to tell you this. I work at a publishing company and I was working on a book about children's literature and there was an entry on John Green, and it talked about how he wrote The Anthropocene Reviewed, which covers everything "from QWERTY keyboards and sunsets to Canada geese and penguins of Madagascar." But I corrected it to Penguins of Madagascar because I know what John Green's favorite movie is (or at least what he thinks is one of the best movies of all time) and for a brief moment I felt very triumphant.

Thank you for doing this.

I have absolutely no interest in penguins of Madagascar, not least because they do not exist.

But Penguins of Madagascar does exist, and is indeed the single-most complex and multitudinous film thus far made about the anthropocene.

Had you not corrected this error, people would've thought I believed in something that is not real. But because of you, people know that this coffee company is a sophisticated coffee company with fine taste.

High one.

[muenbear]

Bepo Cookies - Law x Reader

I've been looking at bepo and law fanarts because they are the absolute cutest! I'm also drawing one currently x) here I'm writing Law x Reader making Bepo cookies!

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It was a rare day of calm on the Polar Tang, and you found yourself in the mood for some baking since its almost Christmas.

"Hey Law! I was thinking of making cookies. Want to join me?" You approached your boyfriend who was diligently studying his maps in the corner of the room.

Law looked up from his maps, his stern expression softening at your invitation. "Cookies? Sorry Y/N, I'm busy"

"Pleaseeee, c'mon you need to take a break!" You nudge him slightly, knowing he cannot refuse you.

"Fine, but I've never baked before, can't promise I'll be good at it." He stood up and put his maps to the side of his desk.

With a triumphant smile, you ran to the kitchen as fast as you could and gathered all the ingredients with Law joining you shortly.

However, it became apparent that Law's culinary skills were limited to basic survival needs.

"This is alot of steps for just some cookies" his brows furrowed looking at the instructions on the cookie box.

"That's okay! It's easy, I promise," you reassured him, handing him a mixing bowl. "All we need to add to this packet is eggs and water....and butter....and some vanilla!"

As you measured out the ingredients, you noticed Law's meticulous nature. He followed your instructions with precision, but you couldn't help but chuckle at how serious he looked when mixing.

As the cookies were baking in the oven, you and Law leaned against the counter as you heard him talk about the next island you were heading to.

The scent of freshly baked cookies filled the submarine, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere. You swore you saw Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin peeking into the kitchen.

The real fun began when it was time to shape the cookies. "Law, let's make Bepo cookies!!" You smiled as you handed him the sweet icing. Law agreed with a smirk, appreciating the nod to his crewmate.

The two of you worked side by side, creating adorable Bepo cookies. Law's attempts were at first clumsy, but he quickly got the hang of it.

The submarine's kitchen was filled with laughter as you both competed to make the best Bepo cookie.

"You know, you're surprisingly good at this," you teased, admiring his handiwork.

Law shot you a sideways glance. "I have many skills."

Once the cookies were done, you marveled at the cute sugar cookies. You couldn't resist taking a selfie with Law and the batch of cookies, capturing the moment.

"Come eat!!" everyone gathered together on deck and enjoyed the cute cookies. "This wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be." Law smirked.

You grinned "See? Baking can be fun. And we made the cutest Bepo cookies ever!"

"I wouldn't mind doing this with you more often Y/N" Law closes his eyes to enjoy the breeze as he feels you rest your head on his shoulders.

-----------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed this one :3

[abysswalkersknight]

A sequel to this drabble. Though I admit it was a little harder than the other.

While writing half of this I was thinking about that scene from the movie storks when they fight the penguins.

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

He truly didn’t know what was worse, protecting his son from his past self or this.

His dear son, curled up in the throes of slumber against the chest of that loathsome heathen who so daringly has his arms wrapped loosely around his boy’s torso, leering down at Lilia from his chin’s perch on silver’s shoulder ‘what’s the matter old boy, that glare doesn’t suit a cute face like yours’ Lilia scowls at him and replies with an all too familiar gesture that would surely have Silver reprimanding him were he awake, alas twas not so instead his precious son was captured in such an image that Lilia would be cooing all over him, if it weren’t for this one abhorrent factor, who knowingly smirks back at Lilia with all the smugness more suited for a mischievous cat. 

After the small incident where Lilia had beat the ever loving daylights out of his younger self, poor Silver had been wracked with miserable guilt despite his father’s protestations, claiming that he had been careless and had startled Vanrouge, thus to Lilia’s displeasure he wanted to make amends with the wild fae but ever since the incident Lilia had practically glued himself to Silver’s side whenever the general was in sight even going as far as to hissing at the fae whenever he thought he was too close to his son. As such Vanrouge kept a wide berth with his head down low and Lilia would have gladly left it at that but of course when it came to things like this Silver was rather persistent. For days Lilia watched scornfully as his dear boy ventured out to look for Vanrouge, sometimes he just couldn’t understand the extent of Silver’s kindness. Just mere days ago he had been attacked by the very fae he was searching very intently for and still Silver wishes to apologise to make amends no matter how many times Lilia tried to advise that it was near impossible to reason with a beast like him at that age, the bloodlust was too far ingrained and hadn’t time to rust away. But never did Silver give up and every time they found Vanrouge he would harshly refuse whatever Silver brought as a peace offering, personally Lilia was rather offended when the rats were rejected, it took him hours to catch all of them at Silver’s behest, but oh well more for Lilia. It had been this way for some time until suddenly one day Vanrouge was found begrudgingly eating risotto next to a triumphant Silver, really what was Lilia expecting, of course his son was capable of taming even the most rabid of beasts. But did it really have to be this beast? ‘Pray, do tell how this came to be? You’ve better not be holding him hostage, Vanrouge’ he growls hands on his hips and eye almost irritably twitching  as his son shuffled in his sleep and almost buried his face in the general’s neck ‘why I’ve not the slightest clue myself, the poor thing just waltzed in here all dazed like and next thing you know he’s crawling up to me before dropping like so’ he smugly explains, nuzzling his cheek against silver locks. Oh you little…

The snide, conniving look he gives Lilia gives him the unshakable urge to bloody it black and blue again ‘why there was no hesitation whatsoever, he must have mistaken me as his father or something’

‘Of course he would, we have the same face!’ As much as he’d hate to admit, Silver’s recognition was never the best whenever a sleep spell hit him and Lilia did teach the boy to seek him out when he felt one coming. Oh well it can’t be helped he thinks reaching out to carry his boy off to the comforts of his bed only to gasp in indignation when sharp fangs clamp firmly into his hand. There’s a heavy pause as Lilia stares down at Vanrouge, who curls closer to his son, the promise of a slow, painful death blazing in his crimson eyes, yet the general was not intimidated in the slightest, of course not, what with the firm yet gentle way he manoeuvres Silver off him and down on the couch cushions, all without breaking eye contact or releasing his fang’s grip, so Lilia takes the ample opportunity to seize the ponytail he was so glad to shear off in his youth and send them both tumbling to the ground whose soft rug muffled the thud. In a silent brawl the two fae once again bite and kick at each other, daring the other to so much as make a sound and wake up the sleeping child above them, in a sense to Lilia it was a way to prove to himself that this younger version of him was just as he believed he was, a ruthless monster entirely incapable of caring for others, even if it was merely staying quiet just so his child could nap in peace. Yet as they scrapped Vanrouge refused to yield, showing off his familiar prowess by moving so that like Lilia, any blow thrown and received was muffled in some way. At one point they paused in fear when they heard a soft groan but Silver simply turned around and fell silent once more, suddenly Vanrouge whips out a fork of all things and drives it into Lilia’s arm. Lilia cried out in pain but toned it down to a quiet squeal, he rips out the fork and plunged it into the general’s shoulder who’s face blanked on impact and all of a sudden seized a spare cushion from the couch and screamed into it. Lilia would have found the whole thing hilarious had it been anyone else brawling like this.

In the background a certain Zigvolt raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the strange scene before him, honestly this would be a lot more impressive if the two fae weren’t trying to throttle the other in total silence. Wait, are they mouthing death threats to each other? Usually Sebek would never in his life dare to roll his eyes at Master Lilia but what was he to do? This was far too ridiculous, and Silver was bound to get a sore neck with the position he was in. 

The two scrabbling generals didn’t even noticed Sebek walking around them towards Silver  where he swung his fellow guard’s arm round his neck and hoisted him into his arms, may as well get him to bed, he thought as he carefully slipped out of the room, looking back to the still fighting Lilia’s, now I understand what Grandfather meant when he said that Master Lilia could be an idiot. Seven help him, these old fae were so oblivious.

[yandereorg]

Roy pulling out all the stops trying to sweeten the reader up after he lashed out in jealousy and blew up. I can see it now--Lian being extra clingy (his doing). Guilt tripping. Food and favorite activities. Praise.

𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Yandere! Roy harper x reader

Trigger warning for Yandere behaviour

The morning after is always hard. The rust that grows between the two of you over night is devastating. Roy leaves the bed. At 5 or 6 am, he wakes up. Usually after you push away one too many times and even he knows he’s fucked.

Lian can always tell, she doesn’t wake up to the smell of breakfast or laughter, instead she notices Roy stumbling around the kitchen. He regrets his cruel, it echoes through his brain like a hyenas triumphant chuckle after a kill. He regrets going for blood and tearing you apart.

Lian reaches out to him, and after a comforting 5 minutes Roy sends lian to bed, your bed. He fucked up and your freezing him out but lian melts your frosty facade everytime. Lian does as her daddy says, his fear induces her own.

Your stranded on the shore of Roy and you. You would have left if it wasn’t for lian and if your financial situation hadn’t gone to shit. Your eyes look over the door way, thoughts drifting between what was and what could have been, wondering how so much vitriol could’ve grown between the two of you, how you can leave. Roy’s words ricochet through your mind, shattering trust and dashing your self esteem. You know you’d never cheat on him, you know who you are, and you thought Roy did too.

Your awaken from your thoughts when lian comes running into the room, a happiness spreads through you, her smile is infectious as she tells you about her plans.

“I’m going to the zoo with my most favourite people and we’re gonna see the penguins!” She says happily showing you her planned outfit and asking what you’ll wear.

As you and Lian discuss fun facts about penguins, a dark cloud fogs up the room bringing in two breakfasts trays. You see the guilt in his eyes.

“For my loves.” He smiles awkwardly and swallows nervously, he brings the tray over, kissing the crown of lian’s head and going in to kiss your cheek. Once you retreat slightly, he huffs. “Don’t ruin a good day babe, you know I didn’t mean that stuff.” He says, trying to keep his tone soft.

“Roy you called me a wh-” you try to retort but he quickly cuts you off.

“Babe, you drank a lot last night, I think you’re having trouble remembering what happened, I just wanted you to be a little quieter. I know you’re not used to having kids around but lian really doesn’t like seeing people get silly like you were.” He says, gently playing with Lians hair as she stares into her plate, occasionally glancing at the two of you as her tummy turns at the idea of being trapped in the crossfire.

You swallow your words as your memories melt and shift, maybe Roy was right. You were an emotional drunk and you can’t stand the thought of scaring Lian. “The breakfast looks good.” Your head hangs low like a dog as you try to steer the conversation into warmer waters rather than into the iceberg.

[gabseyoo]

PLUSHIE — HAITANI RINDŌ

content: fem!reader, established relationship, swearing. word count: 1k.

summary: rindō will get you that plushie, no matter what.

Rindou had found immense pleasure in planning dates to different places—even when the two of you could spend hours doing nothing on your living room couch, just enjoying each other's company—he liked to get out of the routine by taking you to the movies, concerts, clubs, even hiking or to the gym. Well, he is an active person, he likes to do too much and more if it is with you. 

The place chosen for today’s date was an arcade, he had come along with Ran and Shion a while ago and thought it would be a great place to bring you.  

It was fun, playing pac-man, galaga, street fighter, air field hockey—where he let you win but you didn’t need to know that—, compete with you in the DDR. It was certainly a perfect date. 

Until you got the idea to go to the claw machines. 

There was a machine that caught your attention, one that contained different stuffed animals, but Rindou knew his girlfriend perfectly well and knew instantly that you would want to try specifically for that penguin that was right in the middle; he was very aware of your obsession with those animals, heck, he had given you too many things related to them for the same reason. 

So he wasn’t surprised when you said “Rin, let’s try here. That penguin is so cute.”

It all started there, when he watched with a smile as you focused on winning that plushie, it even gave him tenderness how you slightly stuck out your tongue when you were concentrating. But you failed, not one, not two, but three times. That’s when he, with some cockiness in his voice said to you, “Babe, leave it to me.”

Big mistake. 

The thing is, it’s been about thirty minutes since he started trying to win that damn plushie. He had even told another kid who asked him what time he planned to vacate the machine to go fuck himself, sending him crying back to his mother and earning a threatening look from the woman and you. 

Speaking of you, it was obvious you were already desperate, telling him from time to time to leave it at that, that the stuffed animal wasn’t that cute anyway— but you knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand, and there was no way to change his mind. 

When Rindou Haitani had a goal, he would not give up until he achieved it. 

He would win that fucking stuffed animal for you, and then he would give it to you saying ‘I told you I’d make it’ and you would smile at him all pretty, and hug him, and kiss him, and tell him how much you love him and that he’s the best boyfriend in the world, and in the end you could walk away from this Arcade triumphant with another successful date. 

“FUCK!” He shouted for about the thousandth time when the penguin slipped out of the claw again before reaching the hole. “I swear this shit must be rigged.” 

You rolled your eyes for about the thousandth time as well before sighing, “Rindou, everyone knows it is. So how about we get going?” Your new attempt was also in vain, as he rolled up the sleeves of his long-sleeved black t-shirt, adjusted his glasses and took more coins out of his pocket. 

“Just one more time doll, I swear I have a good feeling about this one.” You folded your arms in frustration, watching as the game began and Rindou concentrated as if his life was at stake. “I’ll get this fuckin’ penguin for you. Trust me.” 

You loved your boyfriend, really, you loved him so much, but there were times (like this) that you just wanted to kill him (with love of course).  

You weren’t even surprised when the stuffed animal slipped out of the claw just seconds after it grabbed it. “No, no, no… fuck!” Rindou slammed both of his fists against the glass in defeat, looking at the penguin as if he had taken everything in life from him, and honestly, you couldn’t help but feel a little bad; and the sudden pain in your chest only multiplied with his next words, “I’m sorry.” 

Yes, he’s a stubborn guy and that’s sometimes maddening, but you couldn’t ignore the fact that he looked so defeated just because he wanted to get you something you wanted and luck didn’t seem to be in his favor. 

“It’s okay.” You said hugging him from behind and left a kiss on his back before continuing to speak, “It’s not your fault, you know this is rigged.”

“Not only is that, I ruined our date.” Your boyfriend stated, still tense in your grip around his body. “And that’s thanks to this damn machine that sure hates me.”

“What do you mean? I’ve never seen someone antagonize a claw machine for me before, it was a great date for me.” You kissed his shoulder in comfort and he let out a chuckle. “Wanna try again? Or you wanna leave?”

You observed how he seemed to be in a mental debate before speaking, “It’s getting late, we should go.” 

“You sure?” Rindou turned with a half smile on his face and gave you a peck on the lips. 

“Yeah, let’s get some ice cream on the way.” And with his hand intertwined with yours, he guided you out of that place. 

But if you thought Rindou would just give up, you were completely wrong.

You were actually surprised when on your next date with your boyfriend, two days later, he arrived at your house with that damn plushie in his hands and a triumphant smile on his face. 

“Told you I’d make it.” Rindou said proudly as you took the penguin in your hands and you hugged him with affection. 

“I love you— You’re the best boyfriend in the world, you know?” You exclaimed taking his face between your hands to join your lips with his in a happy kiss. “Did you really go back to the arcade just to get it?” 

“Sure I did, and well, I got some help…”

And then he told you how he dragged Ran and Shion with him to the Arcade yesterday and forced them to take turns at the damn claw machine for over an hour until one of the three of them could get that fucking plushie. 

+ notes: i feel that this is not as good and didn't turn out as i expected, but still wanted to share it with you.

[simizzy-writes]

quick & dirty

Pairing: Trafalgar D. Water Law x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+. smut. carsex. language. modern AU.

Law would have a yellow sports car that absolutely says PLRTANG on the license plate. no, I won’t be told otherwise.

“Oi, where are you guys? Are you on your way? Is [Name] with you? Law - “

“Yeah, yeah. We’re on our way, Shachi.”

“Okay, well, hurry ‘cause - “

“I-I’m gonna cum - !”

“Woah, woah, woah! Was that [Name]?! Are you guys fuckin -”

[Call ended]

Fingers wrapped around your throat, forcing your head back. Law’s phone slid from the middle console and somewhere onto the backseat floor. He leaned over you, bare chest pressing against you, his lips hovering against your neck.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” he asked.

Despite the discomfort of the angle he had you in, you smirked and did your best to press your hips back against him. “Not like they don’t know we’ve been fucking - “

Law snapped his hips forward faster, cock pistoning into your wet cunt harder. “Fucking brat. You still gonna cum for me?”

You moaned, head falling forward onto the back seat as he let go of your throat. “Yes!”

He smirked, pushing himself up as best as he could in the cramped confines of his car. The angle was awkward, but after some time, he managed to discover the best angle to rail your pussy. One knee bent on the seat, the other on the car’s floor. You were bent over for him like such a good girl, ass bouncing with each thrust of his cock. 

“Dirty girl,” he purred. “Sucking my dick on the way to the club, now fucking taking it in the backseat. You like my dick, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you moaned. Eyes shut tight, panting and aching from the odd angle, you desperately wanted to cum. You arched your back, lifting yourself just enough so that you could slip one of your hands down to your dripping pussy. 

Law moaned as he felt your fingers brush against his cock as he pushed into your sweet pussy. “Pet that pretty clit for me baby,” he said. “I want you to cum on my cock.”

Windows were wet and fogged up and you fucking knew his yellow sports car was rocking in time with his thrusts. The air in the car was hot and stifling and you felt lightheaded, but you were so fucking close -

“Law,” you mewled pathetically. “I-I’m gonna cum - “

His hands flew to your waist, grounding himself as firmly as he could. “Yeah you are, pretty girl. Cum on my cock. Come on, get my dick soaked.”

His thrusts were erratic, fucking your juicy pussy wide open. You saw stars, fingers going numb as they rubbed your poor clit into oblivion. Closer and closer until finally you came undone around him. You moaned and squealed, greedy pussy tightening around his throbbing cock as you milked him through your orgasm.

Throwing his head back, black hair dripping in sweat, Law lost his mind as he started to cum in your pussy when - 

“Oi, what are you guys - holy shit!”

Both of you snapped to attention, a blast of cold air wafting in through the open car door. There stood a stunned - and definitely embarrassed - Shachi and Penguin. Too shocked to speak, Law did it for them. 

“Shut the fucking door!”

Instantly, Shachi slammed the car door, and although muffled, you could hear him suggest waiting a few cars down from where Law parked. Penguin agreed, needless to say.

With a strained grunt, Law twisted around and sat down on the backseat. His breathing was settling down, and he wiped his brow. “Idiots,” he grumbled.

All that you did was giggle as you pawed around the floor for Law’s phone. With a triumphant smile, you typed in the passcode on his lock screen (which was the month and days of his and your birthday, by the way.) 

“Apparently there’s a door fee, and neither of them have cash,” you explained as you scanned the unread text from Shachi. 

“Typical,” Law said as he pulled his pants back up. 

You giggled and maneuvered yourself so that you were sitting next to him. You hummed against his skin as you placed loving kisses along the tattoos on his shoulders. “Do you think they liked what they saw?”

“If they know what’s good for them they will forget all about it,” Law chided. As your kisses reached up to his neck, he hummed and tilted his head towards you. He leaned into your kiss, his tongue rubbing against yours sinfully. “Get dressed, pretty girl. The night is just getting started.”

[finniestoncrane]

Finnie do you agree all Gotham rogues should have their whole body worshipped like a holy figure

yes! and i finally found the time to tell you the order in which i am going to suck off heal wounds with love and adoration (and also i did't know if you meant gotham tv show or just gotham in general so i've just gone general because honestly a lot of the ones in the tv show need a smack on the head and a time out more than worship)

riddler: absolute loser, needs someone to pet him on the head and tell him continuously what a very good boy he is, someone on their knees for him, telling him how absolutely marvellous he is, a fine specimen, the finest

two face: look i have said it before and i'll say it again but harvey deserves to have his face cradled between both my hands and told that he's a good, good handsome boy, make him feel whole instead of two parts y'know?

scarecrow: can you reverse the gremlin-ification process and turn someone back into a mogwai? anyway that's what i'm hoping to achieve here

harley: ok someone needs to start worshipping at her feet, and like yeah i'm all about that, wanna caress every inch of her but also, wanna tell her how intelligent she is, let me get you back on track babygirl

mad hatter: i'm worried about him crumbling at the slightest touch of someone, but i'm running at him and tackling his tiny body into the ground and putting a soft kiss on every bit EVERY. BIT.

bane: a controversial addition so far down the list i feel, but i think he would deny the need to be worshipped like that. he seems like a giver rather than a taker

penguin: i think oswald deserves it but i don't think he needs it. he's fine, he could have anyone hang onto his lil round body and tell him he's cute, he doesn't need me

killer croc: am i about to make my less-than-triumphant return to regular writing with the addition of waylon on my list? probably oops. but i think he needs to know how absolutely sexy he is, wanna scritch those scales!!

mr. freeze: boy needs a hug and a frozen blanket. will he let me? probably not, not if he still has nora on ice, so he's down the list here

victor zsasz: sometimes i think too much self-confidence can be a bad thing, and as much as i want to kiss all of his little tally marks and maybe even get real kinky and add some, i think it'd just make him worse

poison ivy: if i told ivy i thought she was beautiful she would say "i know" and then crush me, and i would die happily for sure, but i'd still die and i'm having fun just now so not on my agenda

[hauntedjpegcollection]

black hole

wc: 3490 au: college au ch: benny, maran

I told you so, sits very comfortably on Benny’s tongue, just as Maran’s heel sits on his knee. He has to chew the inside of his cheek to not say anything—no matter how justified it would be—fingers feeling fat as they peel open a large, square bandage.

He has to flick his hand to the side to get the plastic backing free. It flutters away and falls like a feather, discarded beside the other wrapper in his already very messy room. Maran fidgets, because Maran is always fidgeting in some way or another. His hands wind into Benny’s hair to keep himself steady, as he stands in front of the bed on one foot. Benny sits, focused on the easy task at hand, even though those fingers do get distracting.

He smooths the bandaid around Maran’s angry red ankle, fingers pressing at the edges to make sure it sticks. He knows from experience how sweat can make a bandage curl up and begin to peel away.

“There,” he concludes, hand wrapping around Maran’s bare calf. He glances up with raised brows.

“Oh, just say it, Ben. Know you want to.” Maran’s teeth indent his plush lower lip, creating a spot of white Benny feels compelled to suddenly kiss. He resists that urge, in favor of giving in to another potentially more sinister one.

“Well,” Benny grins as his hand pulls Maran’s leg closer. The boy stumbles forward, his hands roaming from hair to Benny’s shoulders. He glowers, but it’s an adorable and brattish expression, nothing serious. Pale, inked hands wander over Maran’s muscular leg. His body hair is coarse and short, making him delightfully fuzzy. It wouldn’t be the first time Benny’s caved and simply enjoyed rubbing his face against him.

“I did tell you to be careful.”

“Come off it,” Maran huffs, expression still petulantly cute. Benny kisses the top of a freckled knee, eyes big and triumphant. “Alright, yeah, I’ll stick to my converses today.”

—

After they’re dressed, Benny spares a glance at the cause of Maran’s bloody, blistered heels. Brand new white Doc Martens sit beside the front door to the apartment. There’s a bit of blood on the inside of one of them that Benny will sit down and clean out when they get home.

They’d been a present. One of those ‘just because’ presents. Just because Maran deserved gifts. Just because Benny was a sentimentalsap and he knew something about seeing Maran kicking around in big blocky boots would be so fucking adorable. Just because he loved Maran. Even if he didn’t say it out loud, he thought he could say it like this.

“You have to wear t-two pairs of socks,” Benny says as they cross the wintery parking lot of the shitty apartment complex. He wraps arms around Maran’s waist and swings him around and over a spot of black ice, his boyfriend squirming and barking a laugh as he does. “And keep the bandaids on wh-when you wear them next.” They cross a desolate street, no traffic this early in the morning. Benny can practically feel the headache forming, the caffeine dependency making him twitchy.

“And y-you need to walk with your weight on your heels more,” Benny continues, palm slipping into Maran’s. “Like a penguin.” Their hands tangle more together and Maran swings them back and forth. The wind is cutting and cold, but it’s not that bad out, considering it’s supposed to be winter. Snow lingers, dirty and slushy in the gutters and the trees are barren and dead. The world is sapped of color, grays and cool blues. Maran’s cheeks are bright red underneath the chill. Benny peppers them in kisses before they enter the dinner.

“Hey, Ben,” the girl at the counter calls out, weaving between cooks behind her. She holds up a full pot of coffee, dances toward people to refill mugs. “Maran!” She calls out happily, giving a wave that he enthusiastically returns. “Sit yourselves!”

So they do. They find a regular spot, a nice table that can only fit them, next to the window. It’s not necessarily scenic, especially with dreary beginning winter weather outside, but Benny feels comfortable next to windows. He doesn’t like feeling boxed in—and Maran likes it because the pastry display is directly on the other side of them, so he can begin planning what overly sugared monstrosity he’ll end up getting.

Their feet bump together under the table, Benny’s old, broken in combat boots and Maran’s scuffed up white converses.

“They’re kind of busy,” Maran comments, elbow to the table, chin to his palm. The red in his cheeks has faded mostly. It lingers on the bridge of his nose, on the tips of his ears. He fiddles with a sugar packet idly. Benny sits slumped with his hands in his jacket pockets, a sneeze building behind his nose.

“Whoa. Hi, Benny.”

The sneeze rips out of him, louder than he means it to, making his entire body rock forward. He’d barely been able to catch it in the crook of his elbow. More than a few turn to stare at him, but once Benny wrenches his face free from his arm, all he can look up at is Kel’s golden face.

They’re doing something new with their hair. Or, was it new? Benny can’t even remember the last time he’d seen them. Surely it’s been over a year—and even then, it’d been a passing accident at a party, where Kel had offered to get him a beer from the cooler they stood beside and Benny had told them he was trying to cut back. Kel had laughed, but Benny couldn’t remember if it was a condescending one, or if they’d just been awkward. Kel was awkward; they were a bit strange and eclectic and why the fuck were they working at Henry Street Diner, where Benny came to eat breakfast with Maran nearly three times a week?

Kel tucks a strand of their maybe new, long black hair behind an ear.

“Long time no see,” they say.

“Uh,” Benny replies.

“This is weird,” Maran comments, looking sweet in his own confused smile. He also looks apprehensive and Benny is reminded that Maran has psychic feelers attached to his entire fucking body; he can just absorb waves of emotion and sort them into categories and know what someone feels. Benny loved Maran for it, because it made it easier when he was struggling to even put a word to what he was feeling, but in that exact moment, it made him sort of nauseas.

“Uh,” Benny repeats, hands flattening on the diner table.

“So weird,” Kel laughs, pulling a notepad from the apron cinched at their trim waist. “Not every day your ex boyfriend sits in your section.”

Maran’s sneaker lands in Benny’s lap. It makes him grunt a bit, reach down to readjust so the flat heel is against his thigh instead of sitting on his aching knee. All the pink has drained out of Maran’s face now, and he stares at Kel.

“Could ask to switch with someone else,” Maran finally says and his smile is anything but friendly. Maybe to a stranger, it would be—Maran is the sort of pretty where every expression he makes seems somehow inviting. His cheeks are round and his jawline is cuttingly handsome and his eyes are big and full lashed. But he tilts his head, chin still cupped in his jaw and there is something resembling cold snow in his stare. Benny is only a little surprised.

They could both do better about jealousy. Benny could probably stop slapping drinks out of peoples hands as they try and give them to Maran as a come on—Maran could probably stop shoving himself literally in front of Benny when people came to approach him for flirty conversation (not that Benny minded that, because it usually planted Maran’s ass directly in his lap and he very much liked that ass). But Maran didn’t usually act so snippy so quickly.

“I’m not trading a two top for a family of six,” Kel replies, with a thumb over their shoulder to the rowdy group behind him. Sure enough a child is throwing pancakes onto the floor with reckless abandon and neither of the parents seem to care. Benny’s eyes switch from the child to Kel, and he realizes they have a name tag then. Benny slowly pushes the heels of his palms into his eyes.

Because he’s definitely talked about his first college relationship with Maran. Not with any details other than ‘well, they broke my fucking heart’, desperately moving on to another conversation instead. That was enough for Maran, who was, if nothing else, a very fierce defender of Benny’s heart.

“How h-have you been?” Benny finally asks, in a sort of pathetic attempt to make temporary peace. The tension doesn’t seem to have affected Kel at all, who uses their teeth to uncap their pen.

“Well, I have a second job now, so could be better. Could be worse!” Kel has the same spiky smile that had made Benny approach them; it was a dual sided snide and friendly, cocky and a little self conscious. Their brows knit together. “You’ve graduated by now, right? Is it Dr. Benson yet?”

Bennny’s stomach sinks and he’s surprised at the grief that fills him. At the cold feeling that wraps around his heart and squeezes and the angry wasps that swarm around inside his head at the realization that Kel thinks more time has passed than it has. Or truly can’t remember what year he’d been in when they’d started dating. He swallows and rubs a hand down his throat, but before he can answer, Maran does for him.

“Didn’t you guys date, like a year and a half ago?” He laughs. “You started your program around the same time. What, time flies when you’re broken up with?” The comments more overtly mean than Maran usually is. Benny’s hand sinks below the table and wraps around the man’s ankle, holding it. Maran really only has eyes for Kel, who blinks down at him. They look incredibly unsure, hazel stare flickering between the two men.

“This is my boyfriend, Maran,” Benny says.

“I like your jacket.” Kel points with his pen at Maran, who looks down at it and then smiles wider.

“It’s Ben’s, actually.”

There’s a beat of silence and then Benny clears his throat and points at Marissa, the girl behind the counter. She holds up a fresh pot of coffee, smiling and oblivious to the incredibly surreal and weird scenario that they’ve landed in.

“Coffee?”

“Jesus, true.” Kel slaps their notebook against the table and starts to turn. “You were the worst coffee addict I’ve ever dated.”

Maran looks positively stormy about it, his expression not to dissimilar to earlier, when Benny had been smoothing bandaids over his blistered heels. The heel of his converses is getting the top of Benny’s jean clad thigh wet, but he doesn’t mind. Having a bit of Maran to hold onto is nice. Strings of his blond hair fall around his face as he leans forward. Benny folds his arms on the diner table top.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Maran replies, pouting.

“Want to split an entire pie?” Benny asks, pointing to the bakery display, where warm, fresh apple pie sits. Specialty of the diner, hand made sort of shit that Benny didn’t necessarily care for, but knew Maran went wild about. His boyfriend’s face splits into more of a smile then, especially since he damn well knows Benny is going to eat two bites and then leave the rest for Maran.

Which is exactly what ends up happening.

—

Maran is lacing his converses, furiously, for the second time that day. He’s muttering under his breath. He stumbles a bit and shoulders the wall for balance so he can get the second one on. A classic X-Files poster is crinkled by Maran’s hand on the wall. I WANT TO BELIEVE. It’s survived all the way from Benny’s pathetic high school days. Maran’s tongue sits between his teeth, pink and cute and bitten for concentration.

“Maran,” Benny says, sitting on his bed, back to the wall. Pillows prop him up against it. They’d both been there together, cuddling for lack of a better word. Only now Maran was yanking at the jacket he’d all but finally stolen, shoving arms through it. His cheeks are red again, and not from the cold this time. His teeth click together on another muttered sentence. “Maran.”

“What an asshole!” He explodes, a hand waving toward nothing in particular. He stomps his shoe on harder. “Who says that to someone?”

“I dunno. Black holes are cool.” It’s an attempt at a joke, but it only seems to make Maran angrier. His lips thin and his brows knot together and his eyes narrow. He keeps clenching and unclenching his hands—and Benny can understand the frustration. The anger, really. If the roles were reversed, he’s not entirely sure if Maran could stop him either.

“I’m going to go back to that diner and—”

“Kick their ass?”

“Throw them in the street!” Maran yells again, hands thrown in the air. He’s like this, in all conversations. Hands used to emphasize every point. But Benny doesn’t like when he’s so angry he starts tossing them around, when his chest is heaving for air because he’s so furious. Maran doesn’t get angry a lot, not like this anyway. It makes Benny feel guilty, but it also makes him feel…good. Justified, a little, even if that wasn’t the right reaction. And that only makes him feel guiltier.

“Mar, I w-was a bad boyfriend.”

“You probably weren’t. And—and even if you were—that’s no reason to compare someone to a black hole.”

“One of the c-coolest natural phenomenons in existence?”

“You’re a person!” Maran snaps, now gesturing toward him with those frantic hands. Then all at once, his shoulders sag visibly. His face crumples into something pained. Benny glances down at his lap, so he doesn’t have to see it.

Truthfully, Benny hadn’t been a good boyfriend to Kel. Sure, he’d not been bad. He’d not cheated or worse. He’d let Kel move in when they’d only known each other a few weeks. He’d been just as jealously possessive as he was with Maran, and Kel had liked it just as Maran secretly did. They’d gone on dates, most of them fun. They’d slept together in a variety of different positions so nothing ever got boring. Kel had never felt boring—but Benny had always felt static anyway.

He’d never actually let Kel close, is what he’d realized, in dating Maran. He’d never told Kel why he hated Halloween. He’d never admitted, like he had with Maran, that he was self conscious of his hair or his teeth. Kel had never stayed up until morning hours, helping him with index cards and rubbing Benny’s sore shoulders after hours of sitting at a desk. Kel had never asked why Benny didn’t ever mention family. Maybe they’d been sort of shitty to each other in different ways, dating in a way that was superficial and fun but never anything more.

Maybe Kel hadn’t been wrong that Benny had some black hole inside him that was impossible to fill. But…maybe Maran was right that they were a bit of an asshole to say it.

Benny holds up his hands, to indicate silently to Maran that he wanted to hold and be held. It was probably the only thing that would actually stop his boyfriend from storming out, going to the diner and making a scene. And Maran does stop, immediately and cross toward the bed. He crawls up and onto it, knees on either side of Benny’s thighs. His hands cup underneath a pale, stubbly jaw, thumbs brushing. He presses kiss after kiss to Benny’s forehead, so many that his cheeks start to go warm under the affection.

“You’ve got sneakers on my bed,” he mumbles.

“I thought you liked when I wore the sneakers in bed?” Maran says suggestively to Benny’s temple. It surprises him enough to bark out a bashful laugh. He loves being surprised. Maran’s lips move from his temple to his cheekbone, to his nose and then his lips. The kiss is planted firmly, more loving than it is sexual. Benny’s arms wind around Maran’s torso, jerk them closer.

“You are not a black hole,” Maran says.

“Mar—”

“I mean it, Ben.” His dark, pretty eyes are fierce and furious. He shakes Benny’s face, their foreheads touching. “You. Are. Not. A black hole.” They’re silent a moment, their breathing mingled and close. He tries to suppress the rising emotion in his chest; it threatens to prickle behind his eyes. He doesn’t want to remember how much that statement had originally hurt—how it had shaped the way he made friends for a long time after that. How he’d nearly fucked up knowing Xavier and Lark because of it. And he still, sometimes, kept both those men at a distance, because it was easier. Benny swallows, audibly and breathes out and tilts his head back until it touches the wall.

He opens his mouth and Maran leans in close again.

“Don’t argue with me,” he warns. The feeling in Benny’s chest dislodges. He huffs out a wet laugh and then another one, that’s real and warm. He slides his hands across Maran’s lower back.

“God, you’re hot,” Benny groans. “C-Can you say that again, but with your m-mouth on my mouth?”

“Ben,” Maran laughs. His name, a laugh. Benny loves that. Maran rocks a little in his lap.

“Oh yeah, just like that,” Benny continues, smiling nastily. “You wanna sixty-nine?”

“Ben!” The laughing dissolves as he’s wrenched to the side to lay on the bed, and Maran’s laughing is cut off by their mouths coming messily together.

—

Afterward, they’re both spent and laying lazily tangled together. It’s cold in the room, but everywhere their bodies touch is warm, warm, warm. Benny lays on top of Maran, head to the boys chest, ear to his sternum. The steady thump of his heart was hypnotizing; he’d listened to it go from racing to steady. Maran’s fingers card gently through his hair, making a shiver run up and down Benny’s spine occasionally. It almost felt better than the sex, being touched in this gentle, sweet way.

He could have fallen asleep. He was dozing as it was. Benny need only let his eyes fully close and he’d probably pass out, a sweaty mess on top of the other man. He knew from experience that even if it became uncomfortable, Maran would still just lay there. He’d let Benny sleep for however long he needed.

“What’s that one moon you like?” Maran asks. His voice is slightly rough, hoarse from the oral sex. It makes a tingling sensation mingle with the shivering. Benny is effectively spent, but the well of arousal for Maran seems so fucking endless sometimes. He sighs contently, moving to sit up just enough so they can look at each other.

The lights have been switched off, but Maran had put up string lights along the walls. Benny was fond of them now, especially because they made Maran glow softly.

“Titan,” he answers sleepily. Maran’s fingers brush a strand of floppy, pale hair from his face. Benny stifles a yawn straight into Maran’s chest and then raises his head again. “Saturn’s largest.”

Not technically a dwarf planet, but still bigger than any others classified as such. Benny liked Titan, because it was also the first moon he’d ever memorized, and he liked Saturn. The rings. He saw them from the sky once, when he was younger, and his obsession had grown. He doesn’t think Maran is asking for a lecture, though, so he doesn’t continue. He just tucks his face to Maran’s side, nose brusquely close to the mans underarm, where the smell of him is enough to make Benny insane.

“Okay,” Maran says. His fingers draw a path from the nape of Benny’s neck, over his tattooed shoulders. “That’s you, then, alright? To me.”

Benny’s jawline twitches, his teeth grinding together. He tries to swallow down the huffing sound he makes, but it doesn’t work. Instead it comes out a bit strangled and he rolls until he’s on his side, facing away. Maran doesn’t seem to mind—this is a familiar and well loved position. He wraps arms around Benny’s waist, tugging him until his back is to Maran’s chest. A leg slides between his. Benny’s breath catches a few times.

“It’s a cool moon,” Benny says lamely, his throat a little constricted.

“You’re a very cool boyfriend,” Maran replies and it doesn’t sound lame coming from him. It makes Benny snort. It makes him feel so ridiculously loved. And he is.

[inventors-fair]

Interaction Satisfaction Entries

Defend the Ramparts from @bergdg

Reboot from @buzzardonic

All-out Assault from @coolcoolcooltighttightight

Temporal Inertia from@corporalotherbear

Caleria's Unerring Accuracy from @fractured-infinity

Unified Resilience from @hanavesinauttija

Treasury Feaster from @horsecrash

Skemfar's Scorn from @hypexion

Mistfire Trickery from @izzet-always-r-versus-u

Behold the Beholder from @jestingmaniac

Triumphant Charge from @just--a--penguin

Frenzy of the Tattermage from @nine-effing-hells

Putrescent Boon from @reaperfromtheabyss

Dark Vengeance from @snugz

Forced Succession from @sparkyyoungupstart

Nibble from @stupidstupidratcreatures

Fade into History from @wildcardgamez

[battlemaiden13]

What are the boys like with ice skating? Who just absolutely cannot keep their balance? Whose the fast leaner and practically becomes a professional, do any of them use those things to help keep balance in the rink? (Usually they’re just giant penguins with handles)

Sans -makes it look so easy. It’s almost like he’s not trying and that’s because he’s not but he doesn’t need to make it so obvious. He has good balance and is very good on the ice. 

Papyrus -he’s a bit wobbly but is confident and you don’t think you’ve seen him fall over once. He has a few close saves but he stays up and is very triumphant about it. He thinks he’s a pretty good skater although he looks like he could bite it at any second.

Red -He’s not great at it. He wobbles a lot and is pretty slow and uncomfortable being on the ice. He does pick it up after being out there for like an hour but every time he gets on the ice it’s like the first time all over again. 

Edge -Is really good. He doesn’t show off or anything happy to just skate around but he clearly knows what he’s doing. He even helps others who are struggling, although he wouldn’t admit that he is purposely catching people before they fall. 

Blue -Is like a professional. He can do spins and tricks and even skate backwards for an extended amount of time. He practices a lot on the frozen lake in Snowdin but he makes it look so effortless and he will tease his brother when they are on the ice together. 

Orange -Sucks, falls on his face constantly and can’t get his balance. He will definitely use the assistant penguin if he can get his hands on one. He wouldn’t feel bad about not being able to skate if his brother wasn’t so damn good at it. But no matter how hard he practices he can’t get better

Berry -He’s ok. He’s not great, he’s not bad. He will fall over and get back up but he won’t be doing tricks. Really he finds it boring unless he’s there with friends. He does enjoy making fun of Orange whenever they skate together even though he isn’t much better. 

Syrup -Depends how tired he is. Baseline he’s pretty good. Makes it look effortless. If he is tired then he will fall a few times and if he hasn’t slept in days he is as bad as Orange and won’t be able to stay up long.