#someone forgot to wash a dish?

[dont-f-with-moogles]

Nightmare

Nightmare Characters: Levi x Hange  Word Count: 749 words Canon universe

Because I haven't posted any writing on here in a while. This is for @this-is-krikkit and anyone else having a shitty day - have a free Levihan cuddle.

Inspired by the Smartpass story.

...

The titan lifted its monstrous head, gazing down with eyes like giant, polished orbs. Its stare was devoid of comprehension; empathy; reason. Humanity. It was simply registering the details before it; the small figure standing with their arm outstretched. Any second now, it would lunge. 

Strangely, Hange was unafraid. Their arm was held steady; palm empty. Even as the titan swung its jaw open wide, inviting Hange to a view of its enormous teeth, they remained unshaken in their resolve. It was just as unsurprising when a human voice emerged from the giant’s mouth.

"They don't taste good…"

“Mmm?” Hange returned politely, cocking their head to the side. They clasped both hands behind their back. “What doesn’t? Tell me.”

Suddenly the titan uttered an ear-splitting howl. It gripped the sides of its head, thrusting fingers as thick as tree stumps beneath its eyelids. It prised the thin flesh away as though attempting to tear its skin from its face. 

“Please… help me, Hange!”

Hange jolted awake. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the gloom. There was their disordered pile of books upon the bedside table; only the names on the spines were too blurred to read, should Hange have needed to do so. The bedsheet had become tangled around one of their legs, leaving the other cold and exposed. The corner of yet another book was digging into their shin. There came a movement beneath them; an arm shifting then withdrawing from their side.

“You okay?” Levi’s voice; still thick with sleep. They felt him turn onto his back. Hange reached towards the bedside table and knocked their glasses to the floor with a clatter.

“Fuck.” Their arm was trembling now, unlike in their dream. “That- that fucked me up…”

A pale shaft of moonlight fell across them. Hange turned to see Levi drawing back the heavy drape which clung to the window. 

“Thanks.” Hange retrieved their fallen glasses and pushed them up the bridge of their nose. They sat upright; knuckles blanched as they clutched the mattress, feet digging into the floorboards beneath. There came a creak of wooden slats as Levi knelt on the bed behind them.

“What happened in this one?”

Recurring nightmares were, unfortunately, one of an endless list of occupational hazards faced by those in the Scout Regiment. It was often the result of witnessing too many abnormal things. In fact, most considered it abnormal not to be affected in such a way.

“There was a titan. It was trying to talk to me… It… it said…” Hange gripped their head, much like the titan had done in their nightmare. “It told me that they didn’t taste good.” Their hands balled into fists, pressing their eyes with the effort of remembering. As much as they tried to cling to the memory, the details of the dream poured through their fingers like sand.

“It asked me to help them.” Hange’s throat was tight. “Wh-what do you think that means?”

Levi folded an arm around them and they sank against him, their back pressed to his chest. Levi’s chin rested on their shoulder.

“Levi… what if they don’t want to do it?”

“Huh?”

“...what if they don’t want to eat people?”

Both stared at the door, under which a narrow strip of light filtered. The absurdity of Hange’s statement, and the silence which followed it, settled over the room.

“I don’t know…” Levi spoke quietly. “That’s a question only you can answer.”

It was as though the burden of that unanswered proposal settled upon them in tangible form. Hange’s shoulders sank, their body curving against his.

“Tomorrow, I’ll…”

“You need to get some rest.” Levi’s tone was firm but without his usual acerbity. He held them to him tightly. 

“I’ve got you.”

Hange’s eyes closed. Gently, he brought them down with him so that Hange’s back remained against his front. He stroked their scattered hair away from the pillow and tenderly kissed the back of their neck. Hange made a small sound and shifted beside him. Levi reached across them, gently lifting their glasses from their face. He hesitated; the table was just out of reach. He lowered his arm, wrapping it around Hange’s waist; their glasses clutched in his hand. Levi buried his face in their warm skin, feeling their breaths come slower as exhaustion overcame them.

But even though he closed his eyes and allowed his own breathing to fall in rhythm with theirs, Levi knew he would not sleep.

…

Part 2: Dream

[camtot]

Shopping, cooking, cleaning

[bensiskos]

I get it from my father 😇♥️ (Cleaning/doing chores that technically we don’t have to b/c it’s messy and we don’t want to ask the person who said they’d do it if they’re actually going to do it)

[imbeingtauntedbyachild]

Looked through my vent blog and found and old vent I copy and pasted from when I was venting to matt back in January and it's such a fascinating read and I definitely haven't resolved any of the issues I presented but I definitely did forget abt them

[lynxgirlpaws]

I did one physical activity once and my back still hurts

Why am i like this?

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。SPRING — NANAMI KENTO.

contents. domesticity with nanami after moving in together. aka brushing your teeth. aka staring at him shamelessly as he does mundane tasks. (me writing someone other than gojo or geto ???? whatttttt :O)

it doesn’t hit you that you and kento now live together until the the morning after the first night.

it’s spring. there are flowers you want to keep in your balcony sitting in your living room, the box labeled dishes is half empty from only what you took out for dinner, and you aren’t quite sure where your clothing box is because you forgot to label it. but kento is handsome next to you in the bathroom, shirtless as he brushes his teeth.

there are two sinks—one for you and one for him, but you opt for brushing your hip against his and sharing one. he doesn’t say anything, just scoots a little to the side and rinses his mouth as he makes room for you.

“please stop staring,” he mumbles tiredly, “it’s getting awkward.”

“you look handsome,” you pout, “i can’t admire you?”

“i’m brushing my teeth,” he deadpans.

“yes, a very handsome sight. i love seeing your care for dental hygiene.”

kento sighs, grabbing the small towel from the side and patting his face dry as you lean down and spit, rinsing your own mouth and plopping your toothbrush back in place. next to his.

and your face wash is beside his too, and so is your shampoo and body wash in the shower. you step to the side, bumping hips with him again as you grin—it’s ecstatic, the expression on your face.

“kento, i just realized something,” you murmur, leaning to press a kiss to his jaw. it’s smooth, the feeling of his skin under your lips—you watched him shave earlier, sat on the counter and swung your legs as he carefully ran the razor along his skin.

“and what’s that?” he asks, patting your face with the towel, gently wiping away the droplets of water with extra care.

“we live together now—and i can watch you brush your teeth every day,” you grin.

“we shared a bed last night,” he raises a brow, “i’m sure you realized a bit before this that we now share a living space.”

wrong.

your home isn’t put together yet—you couldn’t find your pajamas last night, so you wear kento’s. the coffee machine still hasn’t been taken out and plugged in yet, and breakfast is currently limited to cereal and fruit that doesn’t need to be cut until the kitchen utensils have been organized. your couch hasn’t arrived yet, and your bed is currently just a mattress on the floor until the bed frame is delivered.

it doesn’t really dawn on you that you and kento are living together until you wake up with his chest under your cheek and his breath fanning against your forehead. sure, you and kento have spent nights at each other’s apartments—but that always results in one rising before the other to leave early and make up for the extra distance in the commute to work.

today, however, you and kento are home together. it’s spring—you can hear cicadas calling and see the buds blooming in the plants outside. there are flowers waiting to be potted in your balcony, and fresh strawberries of the season waiting for you in the kitchen.

and when you watch kento take his time and brush his teeth, hip accidentally bumping against yours as he leans down to rinse his mouth, you realize your home is with kento now.

you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck, “well, we’ve shared a bed before,” you kiss delicately at the slant of his jaw again, “but i’ve never seen you shirtless and brushing your teeth.”

“this new obsession is scaring me,” he mumbles, “what’s so special about me brushing my teeth?”

“oh, kento,” you grin, warm and bright and as fresh as the first breeze of spring, “it’s certainly a sight. you just have to see it.”

he hums, shaking his head gently as he chuckles in that soft, calm little way that he does. his arms find your waist.

your bathroom, even with missing shower curtains, feels like it’s always been yours. it feels natural, living with kento, it feels natural sharing a towel to wipe your face and leaving the door unlocked for the other to come in as you prepare for the morning.

“i have my own sight,” he murmurs, tracing your cheek as his hand cups your face, “you look lovely when you drool in your sleep.”

“kento,” you whine with a pout, “don’t watch me sleep.”

“how could i not?” he grins, brown eyes bordering on hazel as they brighten, “it’s the best new part of my mornings.”

he kisses you there, in the bathroom you still have to finish setting up, the tiles cool beneath your feet and his lips warm against your mouth.

it’s spring when you move in with kento—and you have a newfound appreciation for the season.

guess who wants to brush her teeth in the mornings with nanamin. it might be me. it might be my undying need for domesticity. it might be my deep desire to witness him spit. it might be both. i haven’t decided yet

[rad-batson]

Batlantern Headcanons Because I Found My New Brainrot and I Cannot Contain Myself (Platonic or Romantic, You Decide <3)

Hal is the only one who gets away with calling Bruce nicknames. Oliver tried calling Bruce “Spooky” once. He still has nightmares.

Several long-winded missions combined with Hal’s couch-surfing escapades have resulted in Hal having his own official Wayne guest room.

Alfred has smacked Hal with a dish towel several times. Reasons include: trying to wash the dishes, using a mini vac that he brought from home, and spitting gum into the garbage without wrapping it in a tissue first.

Tim gave Hal all of their streaming passwords to piss Bruce off. Hal proceeded to make his own profiles because he fears nothing, so Bruce changed all of his profile names to “Parasite.” Since then, it’s turned into an all-out war of renaming Hal’s profile every time they’re using it.

Highlights so far have included Sugar Baby, Freeloader, Ring Pop, Green Abomination, Magical Girl, Noisemaker, The Better Side Piece, and This is Your Official Eviction Notice Hal. (Bruce still hasn’t changed the passwords.)

Hal: You need to let go of your fear, Bats. Let’s do a simple breathing exercise. Bruce: I am breathing. Hal: No, like calming breaths. Follow my lead, okay? In- no, not that fast. Maybe close your eyes first. In…and out-No. No. Are you having a panic attack? Do I need to call someone?

For one mission, a few other JL members had to go undercover as couples. Bruce and Hal were the spares and paired up out of necessity. To everyone’s surprise, however, they were the most convincing duo because they “bickered like an old married couple.”

Bruce: I’m growing soft, Clark. I’m weak now. Clark: You told Hal ‘Good job.’ What’s wrong with that? Bruce: It’s unprofessional! *in the other room* Hal: I think Batman just confessed his undying love to me.

They have each other’s coffee orders memorized and regularly prepare the other’s coffee for them out of habit when they’re together.

After a while, Hal stops playfully flirting with everyone and reserves it only for Bruce because he gives the best reactions.

At a ‘Thank You, Justice League’ party hosted by Bruce Wayne, Hal slips up and flirts with Bruce in his civvies, only for Brucie Wayne to flirt back without missing a beat.

Hal had to go cool down in the bathroom for a few minutes. He was not ready for that. (Bruce is so fucking smug too. He’s been waiting FOREVER to give Hal a taste of his own medicine.)

Hal, introducing Bruce to the Lantern Corp: This is my pet bat. Careful, he bites.

Bruce, introducing Hal to new JL members: This is my partner. He’s been in training for ten years.

During an important strategy meeting, Hal waves his hand around, and Bruce just sighs. “What now, Lantern?” “Your plan of attack has like four holes in it.” “Where?” Hal gestures to the areas and suggests different strategies, and suddenly Bruce is like Does anyone else think it’s hot in here?

He lies in bed that night contemplating every single life event that’s lead up to Hal Fucking Jordan turning him on with his impeccable battle strategy.

Barry: I think Batman’s mad at me. He didn’t even react when I told him about the great rescue mission from last week. Hal: What do you mean? He was smiling the whole time. Barry: His face didn’t move an inch. Hal: You didn’t notice the lip twitch?

Batman has blackmail material on every single Justice League member, but only Hal has blackmail material on Bruce and the guts to use it. (Hal knows Bruce gets pedicures for fun. And he gets little designs on his toes too.)

Arthur: So when did you and Green Lantern start….you know. Bruce: No, I do not. What did we start? Arthur: You know what?! I think I forgot to walk my fish. Bye!

*Barry sees Hal with a hickey while they’re drinking coffee* Barry, jokingly: Did Bruce give you that? Hal: Yes, actually. How’d you know? Barry, backing away frantically: Oh okay, cool! Okay okay. Cool. Cool cool cool. Okay. Bruce, entering: What’s with him? Hal: I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to like the mug you bought me, though.

The JL has a betting pool called “BatLantern FMK” where they bet on which will happen first: will they fuck, marry, or kill each other?

Only Clark, Diana, and J’onn know that one of them happened already

[linnienin]

🍰 T h e ⁕ m o o n ⁕ a n d ⁕ I C 🍰 : how are you behind closed doors?

Disclaimer: Take what resonates. I'm not a professional astrologer, i just am an avid researcher and i use my personal experience when writing my posts (Also, pls, don't copy my work, i spend lot of time on it, thanks)

We all know the Sun and Ascendant play important roles in our chart, but they are often what people see at first and what we usually display to the public.

Once we get home or we meet someone that makes us feel at home, this is when another unexpected 'part' of us unleash, that part comes from our deepest place of our personality, we don't hide our emotions anymore, we feel completely free to express ourselves in our rawest form (can also be interpreted as 'getting in tune with our inner child')

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Aries moon/IC : The forever child, kinda like a Peter Pan, and hella CHAOTIC. If you think this person appeared as balanced, laid back and diplomatic, well, you were very wrong lol. You'll soon realize he/she is the most spontaneous of all. Behind closed doors they'll sing loudly, they'll laugh loudly, they'll throw things at you (be ready to catch them or they'll break for sure 😂). Clumsy as hell, and they like it. Endless energy. Gets touchy in an aggressive mode (like when a child put their head violently against their mother's head, they don't mean to be violent, it's just the way they express love, it's bold and uncontrolled hehe) The type to workout at home and be LOUD about it (how many times did i write loud 🙈), has noisy heavy footsteps. Can burn the food lol. Can also be prone to burn themselves accidentally. Constantly finding new distractions to turn their head to. "THAT THING IS MINE, DON'T TOUCH IT". The bed is their personal trampoline. At night, they change position at least 10 times before actually find a decent one to sleep in (they'll make the bed appear as a gym, be ready for the earthquake), heavy sleeper.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Taurus moon/IC: 'AHHHHH, finally my dear bed'. I see you tauruses, first thing you do once you get home is jumping on that comfy bed and hug your pillows (yeah, you still have your coat,scarf,hat,backpack,shoes on, why bother taking them off 😂). Not picky when it comes to food, they love all dishes, just the act of eating gives them pleasure (they're here to ✨enjoy✨, that's also why you'll rarely see them cook 😂). The living ghost (that maxi blanket looks good on you, but remember to wash it from time to time since you basically slide it on the floor wherever you go lol). The hugger, literally a safe and calm space for everyone, you'll see people comes to them when stressed just to feel their healing aura. Touchy, but in a sensual and calm way, like gentle little massages/strokes on shoulders, or waist (especially when the other person is cooking, to give them extra support and maybe get a taste of that sauce they're cooking👀) Fall asleep FAST. Usually stays in bed until late morning even if they wake up earlier (spends that time fantasizing)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Gemini moon/IC: The multitasker. They can't stay still a second. Cooking while doing laundry, while listening to a podcast, while cleaning (superficially lol),while playing with their cats, while sending emails, while preparing for that exam, and oh...wait what is this smell? OH GOSH, THE OVEN! (of course of all things you forgot the food, sometimes you forget you are even human, you need those calories bby😂). Has the messier room, but also the most interesting one. Have a difficult time with silence, it's uncomfy to them, that's why they are always listening to something (tv shows, podcasts, youtube videos, music) even if they don't really care about what's being said (that's also why they know everything about anything, they absorb these facts like a sponge). Changes hobbies at the speed of light. You see them throwing ceramics one week, the next they're playing the cello (they secretly can't stick to a single hobby because it becomes too boring). Have difficulty sleeping, their brain can't seem to shut down, so usually they can take hours before falling asleep (they find sound comforting and helpful so lots of them listen to ASMR before going to bed or even listen to the sound of breathing of the person next to them to calm themselves)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Cancer moon/IC: Home sweet home. There's nothing that feels better for these natives than a good relaxing day at home (or maybe an entire life between those walls 👀). They literally can feel the mood changing the moment they pass the line that separate the outside world from their inner bubble of the home. They love to take care of their environment, they don't feel the chores to be so exhausting because it feels like helping an old friend out, and they take pride in their home too (they won't let you in easily, you need to really conquer them and show them you respect and cherish other's surroundings). They make very good cooks, but not the type to be super detailed with the ingredients, they are more intuitive, a bit like old grandma style (probably learnt to cook from a female family figure too). Make traditionals meals, can make meals from recipes thet have been passed on by previous generations in the family (and they take pride in this too). Has probably a personalized cookbook they wrote by hand with cute doodles on it. Has a specialty for making excellent sweets (and love to eat them too hehe). Has a welcoming aura. Has the coziest room. Loves to make forts with bedsheets. TV series binger. Pretends life only exist between those 4 walls. Bawl their eyes out for no apparent reason at a random time (well, they accumulated the stress from outside so now that they feel safe they let go). Likes to be held when sleeping, and if there's no one beside them, they like to hold a plushie or to curl up in side fetus position 😂

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Leo moon/IC: The beef. Oh yeah, as soon as the door closes, they can't wait to spill tea on all the people that bothered them during the day (i see u 👀). The funny and spot on imitator. Gets very touchy and loving, until you don't give them attentions anymore 😾, then they'll put on a show, and if you're still apathetic, they might break something lol (don't get them to this stage pls ). Has lots of lights decor in their room, also lots of... mirrors 👀. 48393983902 hair products, their hair routine is absolutely a ritual, if you interrupt them they'll give you the death stare (but deep down they like being caught while taking care of their beautiful mane, cus they feel sexy with wet hair, or even when blowing them, feeling like a superstar). Don't you dare telling them the food they cooked wasn't good, they take pride in it and they try their best to provide for others. Also they care for their family and friends a lot, so never talk bad things about them or you'll hear the roar of the lion. Are the best entertainers, sometimes the show gets a bit too real and you don't know where the fine line lies anymore (that's how good they are, but are you good enough to handle them?). At night, they wanna be hugged from behind to feel the heat on their back (it helps them relax when trying to fall asleep)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Virgo moon/IC: Picky af. Especially with food. They don't let you enter their room unless they like you. Everything in their home is accurately chosen and has a function, no useless stuff (even if it seems 'useless' they might use it to relieve stress or whatever). Tidy room. Don't decorate much, they're into the clean look aesthetic, usually they don't have lots of things and they're put in strategical places so that it's easier for them to clean (and they clean the home quite often). The one that knows how to do anything PERFECTLY. They become masters at what they do. Cooking? They know all the secrets. Doing laundry? They have a baggage of knowledge no one else has. Oh, wanna have segss? I just got my PhD in sexology 😂. Is into way too many hobbies, but unlike geminis they actually go deep into it until they have reached a level of satisfaction (honestly...they never reach it because it's never enough, so that's why they say they putted on hold that hobby and not that they got over it, while geminis are like well..who cares, it wasn't for me, next). Reflecting on that conversation they just had with a person 1 hour ago and re-write it to perfection in case they get to experience the same thing another time. Control freaks, i knoooow, but it's true cm'on, why would you get a panic attack when you're home? Your brain never leaves the outside world right? You overthink way too much, pls, it's okay to let go sometimes ok? Light sleeper, has difficulty falling asleep because of they're constantly ruminating.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Libra moon/IC: Lives in a castle... i'm kidding, they only wish they did lol (i mean maybe there's really someone out there that is a Libra and lives in a castle and they're reading this post laughing at me, sorry for the generalization). Loves when they have people do the things for them, it makes them feel appreciated and evalued (but also because they don't have to choose or they'll be the forever indecisive). They are the mediators in every family discussion because of their ability to remain calm while others easily fall into rage. Have a room with posters of their idols or fav celebs, is into photo collages of memorable moments. Everything in their room is somehow cohesive because of the ✨aesthetic✨. Sweets lover🧁. Randomly tries all the clothes in their closet just to see if they can make new outfit combos (and spend an entire day on it). Sips wine (or blackberry juice if they're not into alcohol, just because of the old money aesthetic) while watching rom-coms. Loves to try new foods, but don't exactly love to cook it, i mean, they try but... at some point they just lose focus, and when they see the immense chaos of mess they just did, they lose faith lol. Good listeners, probably not the best at giving advices tho (they usually don't even know what they'd have done in that situation😂).

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Scorpio moon/IC: Collectors. You enter their room and thay have all type of weird stuff like miniatures and gadgets looking at you like... ok wow, it's a creepy good kinda feeling (i found they're into animal's skulls too). It's not rare to hear them talking to themselves, they're not crazy, it's their way to release stress lmao. Headphones on 24/7. Not available for your bullshit, they got stuff to do. "Don't disturb or i'll kill you" on the door. Plan a whole murder but archive it because in this world it's not worth making it. But they have a heart i swear, just for those they love, that's it. Likes playing with kitchen tools, to test all their abilities. Just in case. They plan all the best hiding spots. Just in case. Learning that new taekwondo move. Just in case. Yeah, they're a liitle paranoid 😂. Can leave a bit of dust specifically so they see if someone touch their things. Likes boiling hot food and beverages. I swear, how can you even drink that tea and not burn your tongue, i'm impressed. Is the last one to fall asleep in the whole building, or family members, usually stay up until very late. Sleep few hours, i honestly don't know how they can even stand, they're for sure resilient. Don't like hugs, but gives them when they feel like it. They're like cats, 100%, you got a cat? Good, that is not a cat, it's a scorpio moon. (I love them tho hehe)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Sagittarius moon/IC: Clumsy af, but has great humour. Tell the best stories ( can add quite a lot of beef in them, but they don't make it sounds like they're saying bad things hehe ). Has the jungle room, i swear, they have all type of things dangling from walls and the ceiling, sometimes to the point of almost looking like a laser room lmfao (prepare yourself to train like Catwoman). The one that pushes others out of their comfort zone (and kinda use this excuse to escape outside with them too 'cause can't stay inside a building for too long 😂). Probably lives somwhere in the countryside or dreams of living around nature, like in the mountains, in a forest, near a river etc... Constantly jump between rooms and hit themselves with some furniture, has constant bruises on them legs (their energy is too big to be contained between walls sigh). The big portions eater, they can eat all the leftovers from others and still not feeling heavy, i admire their digestive system lmfao (i could never). The funny face eater too, they're the living anime's characters. Binge watch survival shows. Wanna be free, so don't force them into stuff they're not interested in (they'd join by themselves if they want to). When don't know what to do, scroll endlessly their phone through meme pages. Send memes to EVERYONE , even when it's like... why did they send me that? Well, ok let's laugh (ya know, they don't have reasons, they are pretty simple people after all). The first one to try that weird stuff because you only live once so why not make it an adventure? Leaders, but need a counselor. Loud sleeper, can snore. Usually spread their limbs to the whole bed, and if you need to join them, well, good luck (you'll be sleeping on the couch sometimes😂)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Capricorn moon/IC: your pacific homie. They do the same things every time they come home (like a programmed robot lol). Routine lovers. They need a predictable environment because their energy gets sucked by the chaos of the outside world. They aren't into decorating much, but they do have a passion for artistic hobbies, some of them can paint or play an instrument/sing, they have their tools for that hobby and that's it, the rest is quite minimal and practical. Can wear the same outfit on repeat too, it's like they don't care, or they have better things to care about (Mark Zuckerberg kinda vibe with the same tee over and over again). Loves traditional meals, meals they always ate since they were a child, not so open to try new food. Have a...peculiar relationship with the family (particularly their mother). I have noticed they usually don't talk much when having lunch/dinner at the table, they don't express much, and don't make eye contact to avoid people making questions. Quite reserved, need a lot of alone time to recharge. However, there's a need for them to have someone by their side to share those things too, they're absolutely afraid to end up alone, it's their worst fear, so even if they don't open up much, they want someone that understands them with just a look (however, communication is key guys, sometimes you succumb to the other person, especially if they have a strong personality, to just avoid conflict, and this is to your own detriment, you deserve better!). People say that this placement don't like physical touch, however, i'll say they veery rarely initiate the contact, but deep down the like it when others take initiative and show affection to them, it makes their heart warm even if they might not show it (but i can still see that subtle change in the expression 👀). The stable sleeper, they sleep in a position and that's it.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Aquarius moon/IC: Step into home=step into my fantastic spaceship and leave earth for a while bye. The crazy calm gal. Constantly crunching their bones (why tho). Tries to walk on walls just to see if they can bend gravity. Wanna try to glue their shoes with the Pattex and attach themselves to the ceiling like the guy in the advertising(Can be content even with swinging from the chandelier). Throw random parties and invites everyone (even strangers lol). Likes when people stay over to sleep, just to see them all in their worst condition (usually drunk)😂. Have the tech room, and when they enter it, they turn off their lights, turn on their displays and pick up their hood, and voilà, they're in a Mr.Robot mood (can be good hackers for real tho). Don't know how to show emotions so they instead react with a weird funny expression that could mean everything and nothing at the same time. Yeah, they can be confusing as hell (is this part of their plan? I dunno). Record a video of themselves everyday talking about their experience on this earth, just in case someday someone (maybe an alien) finds these recording and place them in the Interspatial Galactic Museum. Thanks for your contribuition. Can sleep with eyes open. I'm kidding hehe, they actually can sleep well, because they know they did their job that day, so rest in peace (and you'll never know when the world will end, might be today, so gotta enjoy the sleeping hours). (but honestly, there's some truth behind the sleeping with eyes open, because of all the screen time on their devices, the melatonin production is at 0 basically lmao, turn on the night filter when looking at your devices!)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Pisces moon/IC: Walks in, continue walking, get to their room, get on the bed. Wakes up. Moment of realization: ohh, i didn't know i just got home, i was in my head thinking, but good thing that now i can relax. Proceed to search for food ready to be eaten (without too much cooking involved). Free to daydream with 0 consequences (hmm...maybe you should organize your time better cause that exam won't pass by itself). A literal softie, their room is full of plushies and pillows where they can drown in. Always lose track of time. Has a messy but cozy room (very bad at tidying their things). Leave 3789132789 clothes piled on the bed lol. Lost in their thoughts. Intuitive eating (can binge eat tho if not careful). Can burn the food because they just forget they even put it on the first place. The master procrastinator. Has a calm vibe , and won't disturb anyone (you probably won't even notice them). Have artistic hobbies, but can't focus on them for too long because they get easily distracted. Can lose the entire day to watching videos or social media, and even if they're aware, they still continue doing it. Are into spiritual stuff, probably got 17932701 cristals and a personalized altar for them too, with others meaningful pieces and some candles. They're always in the bathroom, even when they shouldn't be there, it's just their favourite place. Can take veeery long showers, if you live with them, be ready to wait A LOT before they actually get out (or just sneak in😂privacy who?). Loooove to sleep. That calming time at night when everything shuts down is the best feeling in the entire world to them. They can't wait to go to bed honestly, they even get excited. Afternoon naps are also a thing for them. Like to sleep on their stomach.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

A n d ⁕ y o u ⁕ h a v e ⁕ r e a c h e d ⁕ t h e ⁕ e n d !

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

I hope you enjoyed this post,

and i wish you all a great day! 🍰

⁕ L i n n i e ⁕

[princessbrunette]

omggg i adore kitty!reader so much shes so !! me !!! how do u think jayj would put her in her place … i feel like whenever shes having her mini tantrums people get equally as frustrated bc she gets feisty but jj has like .. magic on him or something 💭

"⭒˚｡⋆🍡⋆⭒˚｡"

you’d been in a bad mood since coming home from work. bartending wasn’t for the weak, especially when the locals constantly harassed you and berated your drink pouring skills — which was mostly put down to being a woman. by the time you get back to jj’s empty house, the blonde sat on his messy porch with a bottle of beer when you got back — you had quite the attitude.

“if it ain’t my favourite bartender. how’s m’girl, come over here.” he opens his arms and you storm right past making his brows shoot up, lips pressed together as he adjusts his cap. “alrighty, guess someone’s in a mood.” he pushes up onto his feet, swaggering in through the open door.

“‘somethin’ happen? what’s up?” he calls after you, spotting you in the kitchen angrily opening and closing cupboard doors as you try to make yourself something to eat.

“where is my plate?” you demand, clearly frustrated. he blinks, thinking back to your special plate that you always ate off. some cutesy antique thing you found at a yard sale, a beloved item of yours. he silently winces, eyeing it sat in the sink, soaking in bubbles.

“yeah uh, so basically i ate my lunch off it ‘cus i forgot to do the dishes, uh — again. that’s my bad. i got paper plates you can use? great thing about those is that when you’re done with ‘em you don’t gotta wash ‘em. you just throw ‘em away. makes me wonder why we even buy regular plates in the first pl—”

“no i don’t want a paper plate jj j want my plate! i just want to eat my food and— and you’re here just— just—” you explode, still refusing to offer him even a glance as you continue hunting for something to eat your leftovers off.

“hey, hey— put them claws away kittycat. no need for that. c’mon pretty girl where’s that smile?”

you spin around, fists balled at your side, tears of anger in your eyes.

“dont tell me to smile! go away!” you yell before turning away with a loud huff. jj drops his head down, tongue in his cheek as he nods, thinking for a moment before approaching slowly.

“easy, alright? you’re not gonna take that tone with me, mama i’m on your side.” as he speaks, you feel the warmth of his front press to your back, an arm cautiously sliding around your waist to keep you stable. his other arm snakes around your neck, pulling you into a light headlock, just enough pressure to ground you. he lowers his head to talk into your ear as you stare directly at the cabinet, already melting a little against him. “you wanna talk ‘bout your day? y’already know i’m all ears baby. but you gotta watch that attitude, yeah? you’re home now, i’m here. just… dial it back.”

there’s some silence, and you nod — releasing a shaky breath as you feel some of the grossness from your day leave your body. “uh-huh, that’s all you needed wasn’t it babydoll? needed to be told. that’s okay, i get it.” he kisses your temple before removing his arm from your neck, using both hands to squeeze your waist and turn you around.

the gaze he receives from you is nothing short of guilty, doll-like eyes blinking up at him slowly as you take deep breaths. “now what you’re gonna do, is sit that cute lil ass down and let me fix you up a plate. you’re gonna eat that shit, then, you’re gonna talk to me about your day,” he walks you backwards until your legs hit the chair at the table and you drop down to sit in it. he leans forward, hands cupping your cheeks. “and after that, oh i’mma fuck the shit out of you. like, you’re not even gonna remember what day of the week it is— let alone what shitty customers ran their mouth at you today. that sound good?”

“yes, jj.” you respond, pupils pretty much taking up your whole eye like an entertained kitten.

“thats what i like to hear, ma’am. alright, wait there. i got you.”

"⭒˚｡⋆🍡⋆⭒˚｡"

[neptunesopening]

𝐌𝐡𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬’ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

contains: bakugou, kirishima, kaminari, sero, todoroki, and midoriya

warnings: fem reader

a/n: first post of the year 🙏🏽

bakugou

definitely acts of service & quality time

maybe a splash of physical touch, but only in private

“suki. i can carry my own bags into the house.” you said trying to grab the bag back from him. “no i got it. you just sit there and look pretty.” you roll your eyes at him and just walk beside him and asking him questions about his day.

kirishima

if there was someone who was all of them it’s definitely him

he gives you them all in one date by itself

you heard a knock of your door and you opened it to see your boyfriend, eijiro. “hey ei, come in.” you stepped aside for him to walk in the house. “i bought you something” he hands you a small box. you open it and it’s a necklace.

“this is so pretty thank you!” you said and he walked to your kitchen. you followed him confused and he started washing your dishes. “what are you doing?” you peered over his shoulder. “washing my pretty girl’s dishes.” you shook your head as you watched him wash the dishes.

kaminari

physical touch & a splash of words of affirmation

he always has to be touching you & he’s always complimenting you

denki showed up to your dorm and you were sitting on your bed and he plops beside you and lays down on your lap. “you look so beautiful, what did i do to deserve you?” he whines and you just smile. you run your hand up the side of his face. “you were just you.” he moves to hug your waist as he’s laying down. “ugh i love you” he sighs.

sero

words of affirmation & quality time

honestly he would sit in a room with you just watching tiktok in silence and he’d be happy

“bro i forgot you were there sero. we haven’t said a word in 30 minutes.” you said and he laughed. “i like just spending time in your presence, it’s comforting.” you kissed him and smiled. “i hate your nice words.” he gave you another kiss, “well it’s not going anywhere sweetheart.”

todoroki

words of affirmation

i think it makes up for what he didn’t get in his childhood 🙁🙁

“hey sho.” he looks up from his book at you. “yes?” he asks and you kiss his cheek. “i’m proud of you, i know i haven’t told you lately.” he blinks once and then twice. “um. thank you and i’m very proud of you and proud to be your boyfriend.” you smile and kiss him. “you’re so precious.”

midoriya

gifts & physical touch

i think he would like to make things and give them to you, not just store bought stuff

“i made you this.” he gives you a bouquet of paper flowers. “what! this is so cute. what the heck zuku.” you gave him a hug and a face full of kisses. he laughs at your antics. “i’m glad you like it. i watched like 3 videos just to make sure they were correct.” you gave him more kisses. “i literally have the best boyfriend. like what.”

why are all the mha boys so pretty??? that bakugou picture actually rots my brain.

[dirtyvulture]

Knight Falls - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Wolverine!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: Your perfect life with Natasha isn't meant to stay that way with the Red Room still looking for her.

Word count: 2645

AN: It gets hot in here. :)

Click here for Part 1!

The second the last dish is washed and dried, Natasha jumps you before you can even step out of the kitchen. But you don’t mind it all; you love seeing that Natasha has a healthy lust for you and she isn’t afraid to show it. 

You wrap your arms under her thighs to lift her up, stumbling with her into the bedroom and laying her down gently on the bed. You straddle her carefully, not a hundred-percent sure this bed can handle your weight yet, so you don’t want to get overly enthusiastic and break it. Natasha reaches up to grab onto your shirt, pulling you on top of her, bumping her forehead against yours as she kisses you deeply with a moan.

“We don’t have to be quiet here,” you remind her with a grin.

“Finally,” she sighs, tugging at the bottom of your shirt. You pull back to take it off and Natasha eagerly runs her hands up your sides. Her fingers dig into your ribs and you fight a chuckle, leaning forward to kiss her jaw, trailing hotly down her neck and leaving dark marks on her exposed collarbone. Natasha hums in satisfaction, her hand curling around the back of your neck to hold you in place.

You pop open the top few buttons of her shirt, just enough to reach the smooth skin of her chest. Your tongue traces imaginary shapes, dipping lower and lower until you reach the valley of her breasts. Natasha pants and squirms underneath you, fighting to get out of her own clothes so she can have skin-to-skin contact with you. Her eagerness to be with you is arousing, and you feel yourself grow wet when she finally presses her naked body against yours.

You push her back onto the bed, kissing her with a heated passion that makes Natasha’s head spin. Her hands shamelessly wander your muscular torso before settling on your ass, squeezing until her nails leave red crescent-shaped marks that heal over in seconds. You grab onto her breasts, massaging them a little aggressively but Natasha loves it when you’re rough with her. She knows she isn’t your first relationship by a long shot, but you love her like she’s the only one you’ve ever had eyes for and it makes her stomach do somersaults to know that she was the one you chose over everyone else.

“Nat,” you pant, pushing her thigh between your legs and grinding against it, letting her feel your desire for her. “I want you so bad, darling,” you murmur, your hands sweeping down her sides and holding onto her hips with enough strength to leave bruises. 

“Take me,” she demands, rocking her thigh to create some friction and you moan into her ear.

“I…I forgot the strap,” you admit with a twinge of embarrassment. “It wasn’t on my mind when I was packing for a mission–”

“You have hands,” Natasha reminds you. “And a mouth,” she adds with a wink.

“Hmm.” Your mouth is already watering at the thought of her taste, but you have a different idea on how to satisfy your girlfriend. You sit back on your heels between her legs, taking hold of her thighs and pushing them further apart, the scent of her arousal almost sending you into a feral state. Natasha looks at you with her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes begging for you to take her any way you wanted. 

A growl vibrates in your throat and your fingers tighten around her thighs. It takes a significant amount of self-control to not pounce on her and fuck her until neither of you could move. You’re sorely tempted to, being in the perfect environment where you didn’t need to worry about the sound level or one of the students accidentally walking in, looking for someone to help them with their homework. Right now, it was just you and Natasha, and you were going to take advantage of every second you had together.

You keep one sturdy hand on her left thigh, reaching to cup her with your right hand, your fingers sliding through her slickness that pulses with heat and desire. Natasha whines when you touch her, her hips jerking up for more of your touch. You lean forward to press her body against hers and her arms try to snake around your back again, but you grab both her wrists in one hand, easily pinning them above her head with your strength.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” you whisper into her ear, your fingers still teasing at your entrance.

She makes another whimpering noise, quite literally at a loss for words, but you won’t give her what she wants until you get what you want.

“Natasha,” you growl, your voice sultry and deep. 

“You,” she finally gasps, her whole body shuddering. “I want you.”

“Where?” you ask, your fingers slick with her arousal.

“Inside. Please, Y/N,” she begs. She tries pulling her wrists out of your grip, but your strength cannot be matched and you hold her arms there for a few more seconds, watching her squirm for you, before finally granting her relief and slipping two fingers into her pulsing heat. 

Natasha moans, arching her back off the bed. You kiss her hard, rocking your body against hers to match the rhythm of her movement. You finally let go of her wrists and her hands fly to your shoulders, nails digging into your muscle hard as you pump into her. She’s so warm and wet for you that you’re nearly salivating at the thought of her release you won’t let go to waste. 

“Like this?” you pant, the burn in your forearm beginning to present itself. 

“Yes, yes,” she says, holding onto you harder, as if she’s afraid you’re going to suddenly get up and walk away. “Harder, please,” she says, and it makes your heart melt how polite she’s still being in the moment.

“I got you, darling.” You kiss her cheek, softly this time, a sharp contrast to the way you’re fucking her. Your thumb rolls over her slippery clit and Natasha nearly sobs at the stimulation. Obliging to her request, you piston your fingers into her as far as you can reach, your own stomach clenching with desire at the way her walls squeeze around you. 

“Y/N…Please, I’m gonna cum,” Natasha moans. 

“Can I taste you?” you ask, your own breathing ragged. Natasha doesn’t have any more words for an answer, replying only with a bob of her head. As you continue to finger her, you kiss down her neck, then chest, leaving a hot trail along her abdomen before settling in between her legs. You take a moment to admire her, how beautiful she looks before you, how much she’s grown to trust and love you over the months you’ve been together. As much as she irks you sometimes, you thank your lucky stars every night for that chance meeting with Natasha. You had a partner and best friend again and were so excited to spend the rest of your life with her, if God allowed it. 

Natasha tangles her hand in your hair, reminding you of your task at hand. You slip your fingers out with one last hard thrust and replace them with your mouth.

Natasha cums instantly. Her taste floods your mouth and you eagerly lap up all she has to offer, wrapping your arms around her thighs as she tries to buck and pull away from the sensitivity. 

“Y/N, Y/N please,” she says, yanking harder on your hair. “I can’t–”

You nip and kiss at the inside of her thighs before crawling back up to hold and kiss her. 

“Thank you,” she whispers against your lips, snuggling into your chest. 

“Anything for you, darling.”

Natasha purrs in content. Her hand slips between your bodies and she drags her nails up and down your bare thigh. A rumble vibrates in your chest as she cups your wet center.

“My turn to take care of you,” she says, pushing you onto your back and putting her mouth to better use.

***********************************************************************

Normally, you can never sleep easy in a new and unknown place. But with Natasha lying on your chest, her arms wrapped around you and her breathing soft and steady against your neck, you feel a little more comfortable. Plus, being utterly exhausted from four rounds of lovemaking was a good excuse to get some rest. 

You close your eyes for a bit, but not for long, when you hear the creak of the front door swinging open.

“Nat,” you hiss, gently shaking her. “Wake up.”

“Hmm?” she mumbles, lifting her head sleepily.

“Did you lock the front door?” you whisper.

“Of course.”

“Well, someone just opened it.”

Natasha’s eyes widen in shock and she tries to scramble up, but you keep your arm tight against her back. “Stay here and put some clothes on. I’ll handle it.” You wiggle out from under her and stand up, your bare feet cold on the floor.

“Y/N!” Natasha hisses.

“Stay here,” you repeat, knowing there’s a 50-percent chance she won’t listen to you anyway.

You freeze to listen for the intruder. You can’t smell them, which is highly unusual, but you can hear their weight shifting on the floor in the kitchen. Something bumps you from behind and you startle, frustrated to find Natasha standing directly behind you, although she’s now wearing one of the pullover sweatshirts you brought.

“What did I tell you?” you snap.

“Put this on,” she says, shoving a flannel shirt into your hands. You roll your eyes; clearly the two of you have much different priorities. Grudgingly, you slip your arms into the shirt and button the top three buttons, hoping that will be enough to appease her. 

“Happy now?” you grumble.

BANG.

The bedroom door bursts open with a sound like a gunshot. You throw yourself in front of Natasha, herding her back as a large figure steps into the bedroom. He’s covered head to toe in dark blue armor with orange and silver striped highlights. His mask is made of an opaque black visor and there are teeth etched onto the covering where his mouth is.

“Taskmaster,” Natasha breathes, and it doesn’t surprise you that she knows who they are.

“Look, bub, I think you’ve got the wrong house,” you say. “We’ll forgive you for the broken door, but if you can just leave the same way you came–”

Taskmaster takes one step towards you.

“Easy,” you warn, your legs shifting into a familiar fighting stance.

He lifts his right arm and points it at you as you tense. You anticipate his action and dodge as something glowing blue fires out of his wrist gauntlet. It flies into the wall behind you, vibrating with a familiar energy of a weapon you’ve seen before. But you have no time to ponder it as you look back at Taskmaster.

“All right, well you asked for it.” You approach Taskmaster with a little too much confidence. He doesn’t shift an inch and you can’t even detect an increase in his heartbeat. Was this guy also a mutant like you? “I’ll give you one more chance, bub. Get the fuck out of–”

Taskmaster moves so fast you’re absolutely convinced he’s a mutant. He grabs onto your shoulders faster than you can react and throws you through the wall. 

“Y/N!” Natasha screams.

You roll across the floor in the living room, coughing up dust and wiping your eyes. Taskmaster is heading for you now and Natasha launches herself at him as a distraction. A few aggressive knee strikes to his torso do little if not no damage and Taskmaster bats her aside like an annoying insect. He starts towards you again and Natasha jumps onto his back, but he reaches over his shoulder to spin her around and throw her into the living room.

You feel the rush of air as she flies over you. Natasha lands with a devastating thump and the urge to check on her is overpowered by the feral need to kill what hurt her. You get to your feet and for once, you don’t even register the pain of the three knife-pointed claws splitting through your knuckles. You raise your fists in warning, a sight that would make most people trip head-over-heels running away from, but Taskmaster simply cocks his head to the side, before raising his own fists in a mirrored position. 

From the gauntlets wrapped around his wrists, three identical claws to yours shoot out, creating a mimic of your own. 

“Holy shit.”

You know they’re not organic like yours, but clearly someone had the incredible foresight to incorporate them into his suit. If a mask could smile, you were certain this one was laughing at you right now. 

Not wanting Taskmaster to think you’ve been thrown off guard, you make the first move. You swing your arms a little recklessly, not so concerned with your technique as trying to cause any amount of harm you can to him. But Taskmaster dodges and turns effortlessly, making no attempt to jump on the offensive. Your inability to land a proper hit frustrates you further and your attacks become even more sloppy. 

Your claws graze over his chest plate with a grating noise that hurts your ears, but you’re happy to have landed a hit. However, your happiness is short-lived when Taskmaster finally lifts his left arm to parry one of your strikes and your claws get twisted together with his. He pulls you down and you stumble to keep your balance. At the same time, he swings up his right arm and you’re too distracted to see his claws before they disappear into your ribcage.

The pain doesn’t even take hold right away, but feel your lung puncture and your loss of breath is immediate. Blood fills your mouth and black spots push at the edges of your eyesight. Taskmaster pulls his claws out of you and shoves them into your thigh, fully flipping you over and you land in a wheezing heap, shocked at how quickly he dispatched you.

You sound like a weakly gurgling fountain as you try to get to your feet. Taskmaster stands above you, your blood dripping from his claws. But as long as his attention was on you, he wouldn’t hurt Natasha. You swipe at his legs, but all he has to do is backtrack until he’s out of your reach. You fall on your face, struggling to sit back up when an explosive pain blooms in the back of your neck. The sensation in your limbs goes out like a power wire being cut. 

Your body goes completely limp and Taskmaster drags you across the living room with his claws in the back of your neck. You’re thankful you can hardly register the pain anymore but all of your senses are numbed and it’s not something you’re particularly comfortable with. You don’t hear Natasha screaming your name as he drops you by the front door like a package. The failure to protect her hurts more than your inability to move. You promised Natasha you would always love her and keep her safe. But it had taken Taskmaster all of 30 seconds to turn you into a head on a stick.

You lie there helplessly as Taskmaster goes back to where Natasha is. He retracts his claws and picks her up as she kicks and screams. With one solid headbutt, she goes quiet and he throws her body over his shoulder to walk back to you. A roar stirs in your chest but it probably sounds more like a whimper. 

Taskmaster takes out a gun. 

You force yourself to keep looking at him.

He points at your face and fires.

Everything mercifully goes black.

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

AN: All aboard the angst train. 😈

To be continued...

Please leave likes, comments, and reblog! Follow for more content. 🥰

[seravphs]

棠 —

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO x FEM READER

Gojo has something to tell you. Megumi is unfortunately still a member of the male species. Tsumiki just wants to watch the sunset. 

wc — 1.5k

cw — interlude between tried to live in a softer way and stockholm (coming soon), 棠 means "wild plums", Megumi’s a good boy but he’s still a boy (gross), part of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together, I lowkey forgot Tsumiki existed when I first started writing Teen Dad! Gojo so now I have to retcon her in 

Megumi’s mouth is smeared with purple pulp. 

“You better have washed that,” you warn him as you carefully cut Tsumiki’s fruit for her. Your knives drip juice onto the ground, requiring careful attention to make sure the sugar won’t rust them. 

Some cursed weapons are durable, outlasting generation after generation of the sorcerers that wielded them. Yours are more delicate. Like flowers, they require great care.

Tsumiki takes the slice you hand her with gratitude and pops it into her mouth with a little shiver of happiness. Her fingertips are turning purple to match Megumi’s lips. You pour a little water from your bottle over them, and place another slice into her mouth yourself. 

“A little dirt is good for him,” Gojo calls from where he’s wedged halfway inside the trunk, fighting for the folding chairs he threw in haphazardly. Now they’re stuck. You told him they would be, and he hadn’t listened. 

You make an unconvinced noise in the back of your throat, pursing your lips. He can’t see you, of course. 

“Germs are gonna make his immune system stronger. Eat up, Megumi!” 

Megumi wrinkles his nose and unhappily swallows his bite. The next time Tsumiki hands him a slice of her (washed) plums, he takes it. Nothing ever works as well on him like Gojo and inadvertent reverse psychology. 

After another minute of letting Gojo struggle to prove a point, you reach over and tug on a latch. The chair Gojo is struggling with snaps shut so you can effortlessly pull it out of the trunk. Gojo smiles sheepishly. 

“What did we learn from this?”

“Wife is always right?” He says cheekily. 

“Can I help?” Tsumiki pops up underneath your elbow. 

“It’s okay,” Gojo ruffles her hair. “We got it.” 

He pushes you gently away when you try to take a chair, carrying three singlehandedly to the spot where Megumi and Tsumiki are waiting with the picnic basket. You know he wants you to gush over him, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

You purposefully turn away to start setting out the food, only for him to saunter over as soon as Tsumiki and Megumi are sitting in their newly placed chairs. 

“Did you see that?” 

“You are the strongest, Satoru.” This is easy work for him. 

“Okay, but it’s still cool, right?” 

Sometimes you want to ignore him and sometimes you want to give in. Gojo, like Megumi is predictable. He needs the carrot and the stick. 

“Yeah,” you smile. “It was cool. You know what would be cooler?” 

He’s setting out the dishes before you even have to ask. 

You’re not fooled even though Gojo’s acting completely normal. As lighthearted and nonchalant as he is, anyone who didn’t know better would think there’s nothing in the world that could phase him, but you do know better. 

He’s not the type to share his issues, especially not when he thinks he can solve them on his own, which is what you think is going on here. It’s fine. 

You don’t press. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. 

“Someone’s coming,” Megumi announces. 

Gojo raises an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?” 

He looks away, eyes shifty. 

“You know you’re not supposed to be summoning your dogs in public!” You scold him. 

Technically, he’s not supposed to know anything about his technique yet. Young sorcerers aren’t allowed to use their technique if they’re not enrolled at Jujutsu High. Of course, it’s different for clans, especially big clans. None of the elders who sit on the council are going to punish one of their own for getting ahead of the game. In fact, they’re quite willing to turn a blind eye to anything that makes their clan more powerful, even if it means starting their young off early. Too early, in your opinion. 

Gojo disagrees with this judgement, as he disagrees with everything the elders say. He’s been training Megumi in secret, slowly getting him used to the Ten Shadows. The dogs, which Megumi’s manifested since he was young, were the first to become tamed. They’re the easiest for him to control, so he looses them more often than he should. Regardless of what Gojo thinks, it’s simply not safe. You don’t want to give the Zenins any reason to take Megumi and Tsumiki. 

Megumi calls his shikigami back. They evaporate into shadow just as an old couple hobble up the dirt path. 

“Oy, granny!” Gojo calls, ignoring you as you smack his arm. “You need a hand?” 

“I’m okay,” she calls back. “Don’t worry about me! Just taking my daily walk.” 

Gojo gives you an aghast look. 

“Why are they hiking up here? One of them is going to break a leg,” he hisses. 

“Are you sure?” You ask them hesitantly. 

“My, aren’t you sweet! I’m alright, hon. The fresh air will do these old bones some good.” 

Beside her, her husband nods in agreement. He seems like the silent type to her extrovert. 

“What’re you two doing up here?” She says, picking her way over. 

Tsumiki holds up her plate. “Picnicking!” 

“How cute,” the old woman coos as she pinches her cheek. 

“And you! Why, I could just eat you up,” she tells Megumi, who looks mildly alarmed, not at her words, but at her attention. He squirms in his seat. 

“Your little brother?” The couple smiles as you stiffen. It’s not their fault. They have no idea. 

“My son,” Gojo says, his own smile turning unpleasant. 

“Oh!” She seems to sense she’s made a mistake of some sort, taking her husband’s arm once more. “I’m sorry, you seemed so young. Well, I’m sure you want to get back to your picnic without these old folk. Be careful not to stay out too late! I hear there’s a storm brewing.” 

Her husband helps her carefully over the grass back on to the dirt path. She turns back to wave, just once. 

“That wasn’t nice,” you say, watching them leave. “They didn’t know.” 

Gojo rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” 

“Look!” Tsumiki jostles Megumi, who’s still focused on his food instead of the sky. “The sun is setting!”

Gojo picked a good spot. No trees obstruct your view of a sky stretching as far as the eye can see. As someone who’s lived in the city for so long, it’s almost a miracle to witness. 

The sky is awash in floral hues. Burnt orange, ashy lavender, and muted links spread throughout the clouds. You’re smiling, awestruck at the sight, when you hear a click. You turn back just in time to see Gojo shove his phone in his pocket. 

“Did you just take a picture of me?” 

“Nope! Why don’t you sit tight while I repack everything?” 

Even when you try to help, Gojo pushes you back in your chair. His little helpers dash back and forth from the makeshift campsite to the car until everything is safely packed away. 

When you finally get up and brush your lap off, Gojo offers you his arm. 

You laugh at him. “Come on, I don’t need that.” 

He pushes his arm in your direction again, insistent. He’s being such a baby today, but you can’t help spoiling him. You take it as he escorts you to the car and opens the door for you with a flourish. 

The kids don’t want to go home, but Gojo distracts them with promises of McDonald’s on the long, winding trip down the mountain. Megumi’s at that age where he knew better than to trust the strange white haired sixteen year old who offered to take him in but still gullible enough not to understand there are no McDonald’s on mountains. 

He and Tsumiki fall asleep in the back seat as the rain patters rhythmically on the windows. All around you, the earth is lush and verdant. You’re in Eden before the fall. It’s hard to stay mad when the forest is putting on such a show for you outside. The earth is blooming, beckoning. 

Gojo rolls down the sun roof so the warmth of weak sun beams shines into the car. If you look up, the rain beads on the glass like crystals on a backdrop of dove grey storm clouds. 

It’s still raining when you get home. 

Gojo carries Megumi and Tsumiki inside, one in each arm. It’s a testament to their sleepiness that neither protest. You drop a kiss on each cherubic little cheek as you tuck them into bed, pressing the covers down around them. 

Gojo’s waiting in the kitchen when you quietly close their bedroom door. 

“I have something to tell you,” he says almost half-heartedly, looking out the window. “But you have to promise not to be mad.” 

You knew it. 

Whatever it is, you’re sure you can take it. You and Gojo have been through the worst of everything together, from a bullet in the shoulder to whiney, feverish children. There’s nothing you can’t handle to keep your little family together. 

“The Zenins want to take Megumi away,” he blurts out. 

Okay, maybe that wasn’t what you were expecting, but it’s fine. You can make it work. 

“They’re coming tomorrow.” 

You’re going to kill him.

[mapofthemazeinthemirror]

Hybrid!txt when you smell like someone else

Warnings: gender neutral reader, but for Taehyun's reader is mentioned to have a boyfriend. I should probably mention that when I write hybrids, I don't really picture people with animal features like ears and tails, just animal senses and behaviours? That should help this make more sense. This could also work for werewolves if you prefer to imagine it that way!

Note: this has been sitting in my drafts for months, it kept getting pushed back by other ideas. So glad to get it out. Please let me know which is your favourite scenario!

☆ gender neutral reader

Soobin

You were standing in the kitchen filling the sink with water to start the dishes when you heard the front door. It was game night; the night your boyfriend and his friends ordered in dinner and hogged the TV to play games until they wore each other out, or on some occasions, to tears. So you didn't mind doing the dishes tonight, even though it was technically Soobin’s turn.

"Yah, what's that smell?”

You turned to see Soobin and Beomgyu appear in the kitchen, bags from the convenience store slung over Beomgyu’s shoulder, a telltale sign that he'd lost at rock paper scissors. “Hi guys.”

"Is someone here?" Soobin asked, glancing down the hallway. You shook your head and he immediately dropped his confused expression, his face scrunching in disgust. “Then what smells like dog?”

"I don't... oh. It's probably my new boss, we had a meeting today." After all the time you'd been with Soobin, all the time you'd spent around his friends, you were still not that used to this whole thing. You couldn't always spot their kind, and sometimes you forgot about your boyfriend's intense senses, though you had gotten better since you started dating.

Beomgyu placed the bags atop the counter and scratched the back of his head. "The other guys will be here in a minute, so..." He looked up at Soobin who met his eyes.

This was another thing that happened often. It was like they could just lock eyes and know what the other was thinking without saying a word. The two seemed to finish their silent conversing, turning back to you, matching grins growing on their faces. Your eyes darted between the two of them, trying to get a clue as to what you were left out of the loop about, before they were coming at you. Sandwiching you between them, they both began rubbing their cheeks against yours, scenting you as you squirmed.

"Is this what you're going to smell like every day now?" Soobin asked into your hair.

Beomgyu was finding this funny, his laughter in your ear as you whined in complaint. "You reek! Maybe it's time to find a new job."

Once they were satisfied with their work, they stood back, chuckling at how mussed up your hair was from their handiwork. You pouted up at them and they were even more amused.

The doorbell rang before Yeonjun let himself in, the door still being unlocked. He waltzed into the kitchen with Taehyun in tow. "Who's ready to get whoop-" his face fell and his eyes began to search the floor, before looking between you and Soobin, brows furrowed. "Did you guys get a dog or something?"

Before Beomgyu or Soobin could do anything except smirk at you, you were turning on your heel and announcing that you were going to take a shower.

Yeonjun

When he arrives home, straight away his senses hone in on your jacket hanging over the porch railing, soaking wet—yet still he can smell what you've tried to erase. As soon as you hear his key in the door you’re there explaining, before he can utter a single word.

"This guy at the bus stop was all over me. I had to get a different bus so he wouldn’t be with me on the way here."

He stops midway through taking off his own coat, the shoulders of the garment hanging at his elbows. You hear the strain in his voice, see the fervor flash through his eyes. "What do you mean all over you?"

"He put his arm around me. He kept putting his face close to my ear to ask me questions… but-but I washed my hair when I got home. I washed my jacket twice but I wasn't sure if it would still get to you, so l left it outside. I'm sorry."

His expression faded as he relaxed a little. Still he kept his concentration solely on you as he pulled his hands from his sleeves and hung the coat up. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. Did he do anything else, anything more? Are you okay?"

You sighed tiredly, glad Yeonjun was home and you could have dinner and relax together and put the day behind you. “No, I’m fine.”

Stepping forward, he pulled you into his arms and pressed his cheek to the top of your head. “That’s all that matters.”

Beomgyu

Beomgyu stepped out of the cool night air and into the small store you worked in. He always picks you up when you work the night shift, preferring to drive you home than you taking the bus so late.

You haven't yet noticed his presence, despite the place being empty, busy tidying the shop for closing. As he slinks over to you, you reach up on your tip toes to put something away on a high shelf, and he means to put his arms around you to surprise, but something made him stop short behind you.

"Not again," he says, making you jump out of your skin.

"Gyu!" you yelp. "Don't do that!"

He pouts. "You smell like not you."

Pulling the fabric of your shirt to your nose and inhaling, you shake your head. "I don't smell anything."

You move off to the front desk, Beomgyu trailing behind, still complaining. "Of course you don't smell it, you pure-bred human—" and when you send him a look, he adds, "—affectionately. You just have to take my word for it."

He watches as you clock out and untie the apron from your waist, looking up at him tiredly. "Let's just go home, okay?"

He nods, and after turning off the lights and locking the doors, you make the short walk to his car. It's still warm inside, and it's such a relief to sit down after hours on your feet. You let your head rest back against the seat and look up at your boyfriend as he puts the key in the ignition.

"Thank you," you say tiredly.

As he looks over at you, he grabs something from the mirror and holds it out to you. Taking it from him, you look down to inspect what you've been given—his car air freshener. "You're welcome."

Taehyun

Taehyun couldn't hide his smile as he opened the door, until he got a whiff of something he didn't like. "Hey," he said, trying to act casual despite his senses waving tiny red flags at him. Yet, before he could stop himself, he was asking, "Where have you been?"

He watched as you took off your shoes, a hard task with your hands occupied with the pile of books and stationary you'd brought for studying, and usually Taehyun would be a gentleman and take them for you, but right now his mind was distracted.

"I stopped at my boyfriend's place. I'm sorry, am I late?"

Your boyfriend. He hadn't known you had a boyfriend... had he? He tried to rack brain, think of who you hung out with at school as he lead you into the house. "Oh... no, uhm..."

You walked across him to put your stuff down at the table and he got a stronger smell of the scent that hovered around you. Your boyfriend was definitely not completely human. He wondered if you knew. He wondered if he could compose himself enough to study with this smell hanging around.

"Let's get started," you were saying as you took a seat.

Taehyun tried to ignore his thoughts as he sat with you, listening to you talk about the assignment and dividing tasks. He did his best to focus on the words you were saying, your voice, your eyes, anything he could hold onto. But his instincts were strong. He stood up suddenly, your eyes following him, mouth forming a question. "Would you like anything? To eat or drink?"

Your expression cleared of confusion. "Sure, water would be nice."

Thankful to busy himself and get a break, he walked over to the kitchen and filled one glass, then another, breathing deeply all the while to try to calm his system. As he returned to the table, you were coming back from the front hall, suddenly without your jacket on. You reached out and took one of the glasses from him and sat down once more. He noticed that most of the scent was gone; he could bear being so close to you now.

"I really like that jacket you were wearing," he commented nonchalantly between discussions of school work.

You looked up from your notes with a smile. "Oh yeah? Me too. It's my boyfriend's, I'm always stealing it when I can."

He nodded, trying to keep the small smile from fading. It's okay, I'm okay, his mind was trying to console him. It probably wouldn't work out between the two of you anyway... right?

Huening Kai

He found you on the couch, laying on your side, tucked into a ball. “Hi hun,” he spoke softly, knowing this habit of yours meant something was up. He wasn’t going to bring up the scent he had picked up before he’d even opened the front door just yet.

You peeked up at him and he could tell you were exhausted. “Hi." His smile and his eyes were so warm that you immediately blurted out what was wrong without him needing to ask. "I went to a party.”

“Oh?" Your voice was so small and meak it tugged at Kai’s heart. "A party?”

“I didn’t want to go but my friends… they dragged me there, and I… I’m pretty sure everyone there was…” You pressed your lips together.

“Stinky,” he finished for you with a playful scrunch of his nose.

Nodding, you uncurled yourself to make room for your boyfriend on the couch. He sat and reached for your hand, holding it inside his big, warm one. His hands were always warm. He was always warm. It was one of your favourite things.

“It was kinda scary,” you admitted. At this, he tugged your hand towards him, a sign for you to come closer, and soon you were tucked into his lap.

"I know," he said softly, rubbing his hands up and down your arms soothingly. "I know it's still all new to you."

Humming in agreement, you allowed your head to fall into the crook of his neck. This was the place you felt safest in the whole world, even before you knew that the world was not as you had always thought.

Kai's voice rumbled through his chest, vibrating through you as he spoke. "Maybe a bath might help you relax."

You looked up at him, and he brought his face down to rub his nose against yours, his trademark show of affection with you. "Do I really smell that bad?"

The boy couldn't hide his smirk. "Just a little."

written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form

[itas-taffy]

Excuses to give for little gear!

Toys:

-Childhood nostalgia

-Collecting

-"I know it's kinda embarrassing, but I still play with them as an adult."

-They belong to someone else

Kids plates:

-I collect them (If they're from some sort of fandom or vintage)

-I'm a babysitter

-They're for when relatives with kids come over

-I don't like when my food touches and it's easier than washing 20 dishes

Kids silverware:

-I'm a babysitter

-They're for when relatives with kids come over

-They're easier to hold

-I hate big silverware

Pacis:

-A kid I babysit/Relative with kids forgot it when they were here

-It's from when I was a kid

-It stops me from biting my nails

Will post more when I think of more

[sidekick-hero]

It's finally here, my entry for the @steddiesummerexchange. This is a gift for my dear friend @starryeyedjanai - I was so delighted when I found out you were my giftee 💜💜💜 Your prompt 'Steve can't get his inheritance until he marries someone' really tested me and took me out of my writing comfort zone. I hope you like it and that I did your prompt justice! Special shout out to the best beta in the whole world, @acasualcrossfade 💜🙏

Pairings: Steve/Eddie, Robin/Chrissy Characters: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Chrissy, Max, Dustin, Wayne Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake Marriage, Platonic Stobin, Platonic Hellcheer, idiot4idiot, Friends to Husbands to Lovers, Humor and Fluff and a smudge Angst

Summary:

When Steve's grandmother dies, he finds out that he can only get his inheritance - half a million dollars - if he marries someone. It's her way of forcing Steve to live a heterosexual life. Sucks for her that gay marriage has been legalized since she wrote her will. Sucks for Steve that he doesn't have a man or woman in his life to marry. Cue Eddie Munson, roommate and best friend of Robin's girlfriend Chrissy and the guy Steve has had a crush on for years. What could possibly go wrong?

Read on AO3 - the fic is finished and has 4 chapters, the last one will drop June 24

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 1 (5.6k) under the cut

"Rob! Robbie!" Steve yells as he walks into their two-bedroom apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. "Robin Juniper Buckley, where are you?"

He hears the telltale clatter of dishes and sure enough, he finds his roommate and best friend in their tiny kitchen washing the dishes. It's his turn to do them, but his schedule has been hell this week. He's been spending so much time at the firehouse cooking for a crew of five to twelve perpetually hungry firemen and women that the thought of cleaning up their kitchen at home has made him want to cry.

"I'm here doing the dishes, because if I didn't, we could have proven Darwin's theories right here in our kitchen." Despite the scolding words, she doesn't look particularly angry at him, and he figures he'll be forgiven in no time. She knows he's been working himself into the ground lately, pulling double shifts whenever his boss will let him. Living in Chicago is expensive enough, but Steve also has to think about Max's education. There's no way his little sister can't live up to her full potential just because their parents are assholes who stopped caring about their children the second they turned out not to be the perfect son and daughter Richard and Emily Harrington wanted them to be.

He walks up to her and hugs her sideways, resting his head on her shoulder for a moment as he mumbles, "'m sorry, Robs. I'll make it up to you."

She sighs, and he knows he's already forgiven. "I know you will. It's okay. Not like I forgot to do something once or twice."

He leans back to look at her for full effect, waggling his eyebrows. "Oh, like when you started dating Chrissy and were so busy having sex that you barely left your room or her apartment?"

Robin swats at him with the towel slung over her shoulder, but there's a smile on her face at the memory.

"Okay, now that we've established that you're jealous that I have an incredibly sexy and wonderful girlfriend," Robin says, ignoring his indignant Oi!, "do you want to tell me why you stormed in here yelling out my full name, which I've clearly forbidden you to use except in emergencies?"

Her question brings back the excitement that propelled him from the grocery store to her apartment in record time, and reminds him of the news he's been dying to share with her in person, rather than by phone or text message. He needs to see her reaction firsthand.

Taking hold of Robin's shoulders, he locks eyes with her azure gaze, unable to contain the grin that splits his face in two. "She’s gone!"

Robin blinks in confusion, prompting him to clarify. "Grandma Harrington, she's kicked the bucket, bit the dust, you name it."

A puzzled expression lingers on Robin's face momentarily before realization dawns. "No way! She... really?"

Unable to contain his excitement, Steve gives her a gentle shake. "Yes, really. Grandma Harrington finally called it quits."

They look at each other, their grins widening until they both look like madmen. Steve is aware that all of this is probably a highly inappropriate way to react to the death of a human being, but Eleanor Harrington had been the worst human being Steve or Robin had ever had the displeasure of meeting in their lives.

She had visited her son and daughter-in-law infrequently over the years, never giving them much warning when she was coming over and occupying one of their guest rooms for the unforeseeable future. More than once, Steve had come home to find her sitting at the kitchen table or on the sofa, staring at him with her judgmental gaze, disappointed in him before he even crossed the threshold. Any friend who had the misfortune to accompany him was ordered to sit with her and be interrogated, always found wanting as her grandson's companion. Everyone was beneath a Harrington, even Tommy, even though his father was a lawyer. ‘Too many freckles and that awful grin’ was one reason, ‘I don't like the way he looks at you, Steven, too greedy’ was another.

Robin, who had become a permanent fixture in Steve’s life after becoming his project partner in one of their shared classes his junior year, hadn’t fared any better. To this day, Steve has no idea how Grandma Harrington found out that Robin was queer, because at that point Robin hadn't even been out to her parents, only Steve. But when she did, she had spit at Robin. Steve had lost it then, too angry, too hurt to think rationally. He had thrown caution to the wind and come out to her, too, even though the thought of liking boys was still new to him, something he was still trying on to see how it would fit.

He doesn't even know what he expected to get out of it. Certainly not acceptance or even approval, no matter how much a part of him still craved that from his family. The only thing he got was her calling them both horrible names and saying such cruel things that Steve had to hold Robin and wipe away her tears afterwards.

That episode alone was reason enough for Steve to hate the old woman. Never mind that she had raised his father to be a bigoted, heartless man who had never learned what it meant to truly love anyone, not even his own son or daughter.

When their faces begin to ache from smiling, Robin shrugs casually, as though dismissing the significance of the moment. But Steve knows better. He knows the weight of hurt and resentment they both carry because of that woman.

"Rest in peace, I suppose," Robin remarks with an air of detachment, and Steve can only offer a noncommittal hum in response, realizing that any words he might speak would only add to the inappropriate nature of their conversation.

"Alright, so what does this mean for you, Steve?" Robin asks, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "Is this going to change how you deal with your family?" She pauses briefly before adding, "And what about your inheritance?"

Steve offers a slight shrug, his expression turning pensive. "I'm not entirely sure yet, Robs," he begins, his tone serious despite the lingering excitement from their earlier celebration. "I mean, I guess it means I don't have to deal with her anymore, which is definitely a relief. But as for the rest of the family, I don't know. They've never been particularly warm or welcoming to me, you know that. I mean, you’ve been there when they wanted to send me to a psychiatrist to help me get over being queer. I doubt they've changed much since then."

Robin nods in understanding, recalling the numerous tales Steve had shared about his family's cold demeanor and their refusal to accept him for who he is. She reaches out, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I mean, you know she was loaded. So yeah, there is an inheritance, but -" Steve continues, his gaze distant as he contemplates the implications. "There's a condition in Grandma Harrington's will. I can only inherit if I marry someone.”

Robin's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Marry? Seriously? That seems archaic, unfair, and downright manipulative."

Steve lets out a wry chuckle. "Tell me about it. Grandma always did enjoy her control games. It's probably her way of trying to mold me into the perfect, straight grandson."

"You've got to be kidding me! Seriously? You... what, have to marry some woman so you can be the perfectly acceptable heterosexual son and grandson your family always wanted? Fuck off!" Despite the heavy topic, Steve can't help but smile at Robin's outrage on his behalf. He could always count on her. After all, she was there to pick up the pieces when his parents told him in no uncertain terms to either learn to be straight or leave.

He left and lived with the Buckleys until Robin graduated and they moved to Chicago together. It was the best decision he could have made, even if it still hurts some days.

For a moment, they both fall silent, each lost in their thoughts. Then Robin squeezes his hand again. "We'll figure it out, Steve. We always do. And hey, maybe this is the perfect opportunity to really stick it to them."

"What do you mean?"

A devilish grin spreads across Robin's face. "Tell me, does her will say that you have to marry someone, or that you have to marry a woman to get your inheritance?"

Oh.

Oh.

Steve looks at Robin, his eyes wide with sudden understanding. “You’re a genius, Buckley,” he says, grinning. “I think it’s time for us to pay my attorney a visit.”

Turns out Robin is right. It seems that Grandma Harrington wrote her will at a time when gay marriage was still illegal in most states, and never thought to change it after the courts made it legal in Indiana and Illinois in 2014.

Steve's lawyer, who he honestly couldn't afford if it wasn't for the fact that she was an old family friend, agreed to help him pro bono just to give his bigoted parents the middle finger, as her sister was a lesbian. She said that the requirements of the will would be met if Steve married a woman as well as a man. As long as it was a legally recognized marriage, he would get close to half a million dollars. Enough to pay for Max's education, the rest of Robin's student loans, and maybe even a small house here in Chicago for him and Max once she was done with college and wanted to live with him until she was ready to be on her own.

The only problem was that Steve didn't have anyone to marry, woman or man.

His last serious relationship had been in high school, for crying out loud. Not for lack of trying. Steve loved love, but love apparently didn't love Steve back. Robin insists that's because he's sabotaging himself. She thinks deep down he's afraid of getting hurt again, so he only falls for people who a) he can't have or b) are a terrible match outside the bedroom.

She might have a point, he thinks in his more introspective moments. He has no shortage of options, and he always finds someone to hook up with, but he rarely makes it past the second date.

"Maybe you could hire someone?" Robin suggests, sipping her Dirty Shirley. After seeing John for some legal advice, they had gone straight to their favorite bar to hold a strategic summit over drinks.

So far, they have only made it to the drinking part.

Sighing deeply, Steve considers the idea for a second before shaking his head vehemently. "No way. I'm not paying some stranger to marry me. It's probably illegal anyway, and it sounds a lot like prostitution."

He knows it's the wrong thing to say when Robin raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "And what, Steven, is wrong with prostitution?"

"Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with it. A job like any other job,” he hastily assures her.

His answer seems to satisfy her and he knows she's right. It's just that sometimes the things he's been raised to believe, thanks to his extremely conservative parents, are hard to leave behind. They have a tendency to bubble back to the surface when he least expects it.

"That's what I thought. But I get it, it feels wrong to pay someone to marry you."

"Exactly. And I mean, it's about trust. Who guarantees that they won't double-cross me somehow and run off with all the money? I can't risk that."

He looks over at his best friend, his platonic soul mate, whom he trusts with his life and, more importantly, his little sister's life. Right now, he thinks, there’s only one person he could imagine being married to.

"How about we get married?"

He regrets it as soon as he asks.

Not because he thinks Robin wouldn’t do it, but because of the two of them, she is the one in a loving, stable relationship that could very well end in marriage one day. It's unfair of him to put her in a situation where she feels like she has to choose between Steve and Chrissy.

Worst of all, he knows she still wants to say yes to him. He can see it in the soft, sad way she looks at him. They both know they'll spend the rest of their lives together anyway. The simple truth of both their lives is that they would do anything for each other, walk through fire, face any horror the world could throw at them, just to see each other happy. And it's not like they couldn't get a divorce later, so Robin could still marry Chrissy, sure. But it would take something from her.

"Steve, I -"

"No, wait, don't answer that. It was a stupid idea, I shouldn't -"

"It's not stupid, it's just -"

As they talk over each other, their voices clash until they both instinctively reach over, silencing each other with a hand over their mouths at the same time. Their wide-eyed surprise quickly gives way to laughter as they realize the absurdity of the situation.

Steve is the first to recover from their fit of laughter, quickly sobering up to reassure Robin in a mild voice. "Seriously, Robs, I shouldn't have asked you to do this because it puts you in a shitty position. I know how much you love Chrissy and it wouldn't be fair to either of you. Especially when the two of you could finally get legally married. I don't want to take that away from you and make you agree to a fake heterosexual marriage like it was the 80's."

She looks at him with her big blue eyes, impossibly soft, and takes his hand in hers.

"Steve," she begins, her voice as gentle as her gaze, "thank you. For getting it, I mean. It wouldn't be all fake, though. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But you're right, I'm not in love with you and you're not in love with me. And we both deserve to marry someone we feel that way about. In a perfect world, we would. I mean, I don't even know if Chrissy would ever want to marry me, but," Robin stops here, her eyes widening in sudden realization. "Oh my God, Steve!" Robin cries out in excitement and wonder, her reaction clearly colored by the strong cocktails their favorite bar always provided, before her voice becomes softer again, but no less wondrous. "I really want to marry her. I want to marry Chrissy so badly, Steve, I can't believe I didn't know.”

"And I can't believe you're realizing this after I asked you to marry me. Way to keep a guy's ego in check," Steve jokes with a big grin on his face. It's less news to him than it is to Robin, to be honest. Ever since Robin stumbled into their apartment with a piece of paper in her hand with a number on it, gushing about the gorgeous woman she had just met at the bookstore where she works, Steve knew his best friend was completely smitten with Chrissy Cunningham. That was four years ago, and they are still going strong, obviously madly in love.

She throws her arms around him and says, "I'm sorry," not sounding sorry at all, still giddy with her newfound realization. "I'll make it up to you. I actually might have an idea how we can get you your inheritance and still stick it to Grandma Harrington."

"I sense a but."

"But I can't guarantee it'll work."

"And..."

"And you might not like it at first, but honestly, it's genius, you just have to trust me. And if it really doesn't work out, then we'll get married and you'll pay for my 'I'm-sorry-I-love-you-please-stay-with-me-even-though-I'm-fake-marrying-my-best-friend' vacation with Chrissy. And the divorce."

Maybe it's the three beers he's already had, or maybe it's the fact that Robin would actually marry him just to help him out that makes him agree. He's sure he'll regret it along the way, but maybe he should take a leap of faith. If it doesn't work out, then it doesn't. No way to find out but to try.

Drunk Steve is clearly an optimist.

"I feel like I'm going to regret this, but all right. What's your plan?"

Robin grins mischievously, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she leans back, holding Steve at arm's length.

"Steve Harrington, you won't regret this, I promise," she declares, her tone brimming with confidence.

Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly, unable to suppress a chuckle at Robin's enthusiasm. "I'll hold you to that, Robin. But seriously, when do I get to know the master plan?"

Robin's grin widens, but then she sobers slightly, a hint of seriousness creeping into her expression. "I need to talk to Chrissy first. It's... complicated. But I'll tell you everything as soon as I can, I promise."

Steve nods, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension swirling inside him. "Okay, fine. Just... don't keep me waiting too long, okay? I've had enough surprises for one night."

Robin reaches out, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "I won't, Steve. Trust me, this is going to work out. You'll see."

Despite his lingering doubts, Steve can't help but be swayed by Robin's unwavering confidence. With a nod, he squeezes her hand back, a silent agreement passing between them. Whatever Robin's plan entails, he knows his best friend has his back. And maybe, hopefully, they'll come out on top after all.

Drunk Steve should not be allowed to make any decisions, sober Steve decides.

Because he instantly regrets trusting Robin's secretive plan as soon as he steps into their apartment a week later, only to find not just Robin, but also her girlfriend Chrissy and Chrissy's best friend and roommate Eddie lounging in their living room.

All eyes turn towards him as he enters.

Robin's expression is the most transparent. Though the furrow between her brows is subtle, her lip-chewing and rhythmic tapping betray her worry, likely anticipating his reaction to whatever scheme they've concocted.

Chrissy, on the other hand, wears a radiant smile, her bubbly demeanor suggesting she's delighted about something. Yet, Steve can't shake the feeling that her enthusiasm might spell trouble. While he adores Chrissy and cherishes her friendship almost as much as he does Robin’s, he's well aware of her propensity for stirring up mischief.

Their shared history stretches back almost as far as hers and Robin's. It's a tradition for Robin and him to introduce their second dates to each other, one of their many platonic soulmate privileges. Steve often wonders if this practice inadvertently sabotages any chances of a third date, but he's unwilling to compromise on the importance of his friendship with Robin.

In any case, if someone can't accept his slightly unconventional bond with his best friend, they're probably not the right fit for him anyway.

Eddie's expression proves the most enigmatic. He appears utterly deer-in-the-headlights, his wide brown eyes resembling those of a startled doe. His usually pale complexion now seems even more ghostly. Steve notices how Eddie's fingers have been incessantly tousling his hair, rendering his dark curls resembling more of a chaotic bird's nest. Steve recognizes this as one of Eddie's nervous ticks, alongside fidgeting and rambling. His suspicions of Eddie's unease appear justified as Eddie avoids meeting Steve's gaze, opting instead to stare down at his hands, absently toying with his rings.

Something is going on and Steve has a sinking feeling that he won't like it.

"Um, hi?" He offers tentatively, his gaze flitting between Robin, Chrissy, and the nervously fidgeting Eddie. "Am I missing something here? Is this an early birthday surprise? Because if it is, I hate to break it to you, but my birthday's not for another nine months."

Before Robin can respond, Eddie interjects, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Hey, Steve! Yeah, it's been a while, hasn't it? Nah, no birthday party, man. We definitely know when your birthday is!"

"We do?" Chrissy chimes in with a playful grin, clearly jesting, as Steve knows she's the one who meticulously keeps track of important dates in their circle.

Eddie, caught off guard by Chrissy's banter, stumbles over his words. "Uh, yeah, of course! February 23rd. Remember that baseball-themed cake from last year? I almost dropped it on the icy ground!"

Steve remembers it too, mostly because he was so chuffed to learn that in order to save his cake, Eddie had taken the fall instead, choosing to land on his admittedly not very well padded backside so that the cake could live. He had been unable to sit properly at their little gathering all evening. Steve had felt sorry for him, but also fond in the face of Eddie's sacrifice for him.

"It's so good to see you, Steve. You look great today, that shirt really makes your eyes pop. Doesn't it, Eddie?" Chrissy gushes, nudging Eddie's side as he just stares at Steve in a way that makes Steve worry that he's about to go into cardiac arrest.

Eddie's mouth opens and closes like a fish. "Um..."

"Okay, what's going on, Robin?" Steve turns to the only person who doesn't act like she's on drugs or caught red-handed at a crime scene. Or both.

Robin, bless her soul, doesn't beat around the bush. "I told you I had a plan. This," and she points to Eddie of all people, "is my plan."

"That's Eddie," Steve states the obvious, but he feels he can't be blamed. Nothing makes sense, so he's glad for every single thing he knows. Then the rest of her statement sinks in.

Blinking at her, his eyes wide, he says the first thing that comes to mind. "You can't be serious!"

There's no way she's saying what he thinks she's saying. Because right now it looks like her plan to help him get his inheritance involves marrying Eddie. Which, no. No, no, no, no. Not Eddie. Maybe she means some other plan that Steve has forgotten. Like Eddie helping him with Dustin's birthday surprise, which sounded much more likely than -

"I told you he didn't want to marry me," Eddie's voice sounds loud in the stunned silence after Steve's reaction. "This was a stupid idea, I don't even know what I was thinking." Then, addressing Steve with his eyes somewhere to Steve's right, "Listen, man, I'm sorry. I totally get it, no hard feelings, okay? I wouldn't want to marry me either."

The wry chuckle doesn't sit well with Steve, nor does the way Eddie still refuses to meet his eyes, or the fact that he's started walking toward their front door. Before he can think about it, his hand wraps around Eddie's arm as he passes Steve on his way out.

"Eddie, wait." Eddie does, looking at Steve's hand wrapped around his forearm. Steve's grip isn't tight, so Eddie could easily break free, but he doesn't. He just looks, quietly waiting. Still not meeting Steve's eyes.

"I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I was just surprised, okay? A little warning would have been nice." The last part is mostly for Robin, who at least does look contrite at his words.

"It's fine, Steve, really. Don't worry about it. Now, if you'll excuse me. Places to be, things to do, see you when I see you, you know the drill."

Steve could let him go, maybe should let him go, because Eddie is obviously embarrassed and the whole situation has gone south anyway. But Eddie doesn't sound fine, and Steve feels terrible about his lack of a brain-to-mouth filter. Something that is usually Robin's specialty.

So instead of letting Eddie walk out of the apartment, Steve steps in front of him to block his way. "Eddie, please wait. I really didn't mean it the way you think I did, you have to believe me. You're a catch, okay? Anybody would be lucky to marry you."

And okay, wow, he didn't mean to say that, but it's the truth.

"You really mean that?" Eddie asks, pulling a strand of hair in front of his mouth. It looks incredibly cute and Steve wants to kill Robin for putting him in this position. She had said that he would not like her plan and that should have been reason enough for him to stop her. Because now he's between a rock and a hard place.

Either he lies and lets Eddie walk away thinking he's not good enough to be married, even if it is a scam to get his grandmother's inheritance. Or he tells the truth and risks getting his heart broken or their friendship ruined.

Because the thing is, Steve means every word. Steve has had a crush on Eddie for years. He's been able to keep those feelings in check because he and Eddie never spend time alone together. It's always group hangouts, or Eddie being there when he and Robin visit Chrissy, or Eddie joining them when they meet at their apartment. It also helps that Eddie keeps his distance from him. Sure, he's nice enough to Steve, but every time Steve tried to get close to the other man, his efforts were rebuked until he got the memo and stopped trying.

Before he can come to a decision, Robin steps in.

“I’m sorry we’re springing this on you, Steve. I could’ve prepared this a little bit better but Chrissy and I were so excited that we found the perfect solution, we couldn’t wait any longer.”

“And this is the perfect solution,” Chrissy jumps in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Tell him Robin!”

Infected by Chrissy's enthusiasm, Robin’s voice carries an equally excited note. “You said it yourself, you’d need someone we can trust. And you trust Eddie, don’t you?”

Steve can feel Eddie’s eyes on him. “Of course I do.” He doesn’t miss the sharp intake of breath next to him at his decisive tone. Eddie’s a great guy, him rejecting Steve’s advances doesn’t change that.

Of course he trusts him because Eddie never gave him any reason not to.

But he remembers the stories Chrissy told them to explain why Eddie was a little wary of Steve. Apparently, Eddie didn't have it easy growing up. Chrissy wouldn't go into details because it's Eddie's story to tell, but she did mention that people used to treat Eddie like a criminal, a fuckup, trailer trash. Especially the jocks and rich kids at their high school, so since Steve was kind of both, Eddie had been wary of him.

So much so that Steve had overheard Eddie asking Chrissy once, early in her relationship with Robin, why Robin kept bringing that rich asshole jock over all the time. The words had hurt, but Chrissy's explanation had softened the blow. Still, he'd stopped trying to flirt with Eddie after that because he'd figured that even if Eddie came to accept him, he'd never be interested in going out with someone who reminded him so much of all the bullies in high school who had made his life a living hell.

All of which makes it easy to see how Steve's implicit trust could come as such a surprise to him. Which still kind of stings, because Steve had hoped that the last four years had shown Eddie that Steve was not what Eddie expected him to be just because he grew up rich and popular and into sports.

Before he can get lost in his thoughts about Eddie and what he has to do to earn Eddie's trust the way Eddie has his, Chrissy chimes in again, raising a finger. "So you trust Eddie. That's like the most important thing. Second," she raises another finger, making a playful peace sign in their direction, "Eddie's single. Not like Robin."

Ah, okay, Steve can see why Chrissy is so excited about her and Robin's 'plan'.

"'m sorry, Chrissy, for proposing to your girlfriend," Steve sheepishly apologizes, giving her a crooked smile, which she returns with a sunny one of her own.

"No hard feelings. I get it, believe me. Being with Robin means being stuck with you. Just like Robin is stuck with Eddie. Which is the third reason why this is a great idea," she adds, raising another finger. "We all spend a lot of time together already. Nothing really needs to change."

Aside from the fact that Steve secretly wishes things could change between him and Eddie, he's not so sure that's true. But to argue her point would mean revealing more about his feelings than he's comfortable with, so he lets it slide for now.

Objectively, Steve knows they're right. If he didn't still feel... something for Eddie, he probably wouldn't even hesitate. Because yes, he trusts Eddie not to screw him over, and he's also a close acquaintance who's been teetering on the edge of being a real friend for years. But he's also the reason Steve had to leave last year's Friendsgiving party early because Eddie showed up with some guy who couldn't keep his sleazy hands off of him. It drove Steve crazy to see someone else have what he wanted so badly.

In the end, it is the thought of being able to give Max all the chances she deserves that finally makes him look back at Eddie.

"And you're sure you want to do this? Fake marry me, I mean. Because, Eddie... I can't tell you how much I appreciate you being willing to do this to help me out, but... you don't have to do this, okay? It's not your mess or your fucked up family, it's mine."

Finally, Eddie is looking back at him, meeting his eyes.

"I do. Wanna do this, I mean. I know I don't have to, but -" Here Eddie pauses, apparently searching for the right words. After a few seconds he breathes a sigh and continues. "Look, for once, I love the idea of sticking it to an old homophobic hag, so that's a big incentive. Also, I was actually hoping you could help me out as well. Because there's this amazing record store that's for sale, but the bank refuses to give me a loan unless I have some kind of collateral. So I'm kind of hoping that being married will sway them."

At Steve's surprised look, Eddie hastens to add, "I don't want your money! That's for you and Max. Just the fact that I'm married to someone with money will probably be enough. And we can totally do a prenup or something like that."

Eddie sounds anxious, like he's afraid he's said something wrong, when in fact he's doing Steve a huge favor and asking for something incredibly small in return. Steve thinks he can't be blamed at this point, he just has to touch Eddie. So he does, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Thank you, Eddie. Really. Of course we can go to your bank and convince them to give you the loan. It's the least I can do to thank you."

It feels good to be holding Eddie like this, even more so when, after a moment's hesitation, Eddie hugs him back. Even though they've known each other for years, Steve can count the times they've done this on one hand. It's never lasted this long either, and Steve can't suppress his disappointment when Robin interrupts the quiet moment by clapping her hands excitedly, causing Eddie to pull away.

"Oh, I'm so glad we worked it out. Go us!"

Chrissy, just as excited, jumps up and down next to Robin. "I'm so happy for you guys! We can totally help you plan the wedding. It's going to be great, I know it."

Steve and Eddie look at each other in growing confusion.

"Chris," Eddie begins, his voice careful. He's clearly more experienced in dealing with an overly excited Chrissy, so Steve lets him take the lead. "You do realize that Steve and I are only getting married on paper, right? I don't think -"

"You can still have a wedding!" Chrissy interrupts, clearly not deterred by anything silly like pragmatism or logic. "It's still a special day, and you deserve to celebrate it with your friends and family."

Before Steve can say anything - what, he has no idea - Robin jumps in on the ‘you should have a real wedding’ party.

"Besides, it has to look real, right? Why wouldn't you have a real wedding if you were getting married? Everyone would wonder. It's just easier to pull out all the stops and make it look as real as possible so no one will question it."

And that... actually made a lot of sense. Goddammit.

Looking at Eddie with an apologetic look on his face, Steve says, "I guess she's right," and shrugs his shoulders in a ‘I wish she wasn't, but what can you do’ kind of way. Eddie, to his credit, just sighs and nods, accepting his fate with as much grace as he can. He glances at Chrissy, who is almost vibrating.

"Fine. Chris, do you want to help us plan a wedding?"

She actually squeals. "Yes, yes, yes!" Then she rushes over and pulls them into a group hug.

Steve, looking over Chrissy's head at Robin, opens his arm. "Come here, Buckley." It's all the invitation Robin needs to join their celebratory hug.

For just this moment, Steve allows himself to feel as if this is all real, him and Eddie announcing their wedding and their two best friends in the whole world sharing in their happiness. It's a nice feeling, and when he leans his head on Robin's shoulder and looks at Eddie, he finds him looking back with the same soft smile on his face as the one Steve thinks must be on his own.

[kaziwi]

Don't Mention It

Character(s): Law

WC: 1,153

Summary: You and the crew celebrate Law's birthday...but not in the way he'd expect

Note: happy birthday law <3

Law slowly opened his eyes, waking up from a good nights rest. It was rare for the captain of the Heart Pirates to get his full 8 hours, but after Bepo had asked to cuddle he couldn't say no. The soft fur and warmth radiating from Bepo lulled him to sleep, and now he lied awake, way behind his schedule.

He knew what today was. His birthday. Law just never liked the idea of birthdays...and the memories that came with them. Each year he begged the crew not to mention it, and treat it as a normal day, but they always failed to do so. He hoped this year would be different.

Law quickly changed out of his pajamas and made himself look presentable. He could already hear the teasing from Shachi and Penguin for waking up late. As he left his quarters, he noticed the Polar Tang to be surprisingly quiet. He made his way to the kitchen and was shocked to see a whole buffet of food laid across the table. And the best part...there was no bread.

"Mornin Cap! Never thought I'd see the day when you slept in," Ikkaku teased as she washed the dishes. He didn't even notice her here.

"This is more breakfast than we usually eat...is it for...special occasion?" Law obviously knew this was for his birthday, but for some reason he wanted to hear someone else say it.

"Hmm, I don't think so...unless I'm forgetting something."

Oh...that was kinda weird...Ikkaku didn't mention it was his birththday. No matter, someone else was bound to eventually.

Law sat down and began to take some of the food that was spread across the table. In all honesty it was probably the best breakfast he'd ever eaten. He handed his plate to Ikkaku and began to make his rounds.

He had expected to see Shachi and Penguin goofing off, or having to fix something that Bepo messed up, but everything was perfect. The ship was at top maintenance and all of the chores were completed. When he had gone back to question Ikkaku about where everyone was, she said they had all gone out to the island they docked at to explore.

It's not like Law didn't enjoy the quiet, he basically begged for it everyday, but it just felt strange. He decided to use this opportunity to go to his room and read a new medical textbook he got. Hopefully that would help to pass the time.

Knock Knock

"Captainnnnnn open upppppp!!!"

Law didn't even know how much time had passes, but it seemed Shachi and Penguin were back from exploring the island. Law reluctantly let them in, knowing that they were going to make a big deal about it being his birthday now.

"Cap you will never believe what we found," Shachi started.

"Close your eyes and hold out your hands okay, trust us," Penguin said excitingly.

Law let out a long sigh and indulged their request. Something was put in his hands. It wasn't too heavy...but it wasn't light either. He opened his eyes, and his jaw almost dropped. It was the limited edition Sora Warrior of the Sea art book. He could see how Shachi and Penguin's faces beamed at his reaction.

"I knew you'd like it Cap! We saw it while exploring today and knew we had to get it for you!" Penguin said while Shachi nodded in agreement.

"Wow this is...," Law started, "Amazing, thank you both.."

Caught up in the excitement of his new gift, Law almost forgot that this had to be a birthday gift, there was no way it wasn't.

"So, what prompted you to get this gift," Law questioned, "Was it because it's a special day today?"

"Is it? We just saw it and thought you'd like it," Penguin said, looking at Shachi.

"Yeah, I mean we can return it if you'd like," Shachi chimed in.

"No! No you don't have to. I really like it, thank you again," Law said with a hint of disappointment. Was it really a coincidence that they bought him this gift, or were they lying about not knowing it was his birthday. He ushered them out of his room and sat back his desk. There was no way the whole crew forgot it was his birthday....right?

Throughout the rest of the day, each one of the Heart Pirates made their way to Law's room and gave him a gift. Even Bepo came in with a bouquet of flowers (they were actually weeds) that he has picked just for Law.

Law was very appreciative of all the gifts, but was a little sad no one had said happy birthday yet. He knew each year he begged them not to, but now that they hadn't acknowledged it at all....he almost missed the attention.

It wasn't till later that night, after they had eaten his favorite dinner, made only entirely by "coincidence", that he got his first happy birthday.

Knock Knock

"Come in Y/N-ya," Law said, eyes not looking up from his book. He could already tell it was you, since you were the only one not to visit today.

You walked in, holding something behind your back.

"Happy birthday Captain," you said with a big smile. Law looked up, a little shocked by your words, and stared into your eyes.

"You..said it.."

"I mean, I'm sure you realized that all of the gifts, the ship being in tip top shape, and the food wasn't all a coincidence. Everyone wanted to make your day easier and fun! We just didn't want to mention it was your birthday since you always tell us not to....but I'm sure by now you figured it out."

Law really hadn't thought that all of these acts were for his birthday. He had a small suspicion, but without anyone confirming it he didn't want to get his hopes up.

"I know my gift isn't as big as everyone else's," you smiled sheepishly, "But I still hope that you'll like it!"

You handed a small box to Law as he took it with caution. He opened it up and gasped at it's contents.

Inside was about 40 collectors coins, all ones he didn't have in his collection.

"Y/N-ya...how...I mean.."

"I started finding them a few islands ago and decided to get as many as I could for your birthday! Everyone else also pitched in a little and gave one to me if they found one!"

He dumped the coins on his desk. Each one with a new island's name on it. Sabaody....Water 7....Alabasta...and even some places he hadn't even heard of.

"Thank you," Law said, a soft grin appearing on his face, "Tell everyone else I said thank you too."

"Of course Captain," you said as you left the room, eager to tell everyone that operation "Celebrate Law's birthday and also respect his wishes by not mentioning it" was a success.