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just-here-for-the-moment · 3 years

Note

I got Javier Peña and size kink. I can’t wait… also… can we somehow tie this into the universe of my Frankie request from before… 🤪

OMG girl, I don’t know how to work this into the Frankie fic, but only because I feel like if you had this good of a time with Javier, why would you have ever left him?? LOL… Forgive me for failing on that front, but I do hope you enjoy this little drabble/headcanon about Javier Peña’s size kink!

Update: Oh, hey, there's a Part 2 now!

Word Count: 1280

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Outline: Javier Peña x “You” (petite cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: mature and vulgar language; a smattering of cop/suspect roleplay; some dom/sub elements; SIZE KINK; one instance of Javier restraining your hands with his hands; one instance of a ripped dress; vaginal fingering; mentions of blow jobs and throat fucking; mention of P/V sex; Javier has a FILTHY mouth; this is pretty much just Javier talking dirty about his huge penis and how tiny you are (sorry/not sorry)

“You like that?” Javier hisses into your ear from behind as he presses you up against the wall of his hallway, one massive hand gripping your hip through your thin summer dress. “You feel that huge cock in my jeans? That’s all for you, baby.”

He grinds once more against your ass so that there’s no mistaking what you do to him, and it punches the air out of your lungs. You feel like you’re drowning with desire.

“Put your little hands up on the wall for me, sweetheart. Can’t have you trying to get away right after I got you just where I want you.” He emphasizes his command with a hot lick to the curve of your ear, and you feel your knees start to give out.

Javier’s fingers dig harder into your hip as he brings his free hand down to grab your wrist. You let him pull your hand up above your head, palm flat against the wall, and you bring your other hand up to join it.

Javier wraps his fingers around both of your wrists, pinning you to the wall as he grinds his hips against you one more time. You rest your forehead against the smooth, cool painted surface, grateful for the contrast against your heated brow.

Before you can collect yourself, Javier bends his knee and pushes it up between your legs, shoving it hard to one side. “Legs apart, open up for me. This is going to be a very thorough pat-down, honey.”

You suck in a massive gasp of air and revel in the feeling of Javier taking control. You love this game, and you trust the man to play it well and to play it fairly with you. He always gives you what you want and he’s never once come close to hurting you. But that’s the fun part, isn’t it? The hint of danger? The possibility that he could, at any time, just pick you up and have his way with you?

You love the fact that Javier has so much bulk and strength outmeasuring you. He’s more than a head taller, a good forty or fifty pounds heavier, and lots of it is ropy muscle honed from years of a physical job. Just the fact that he could very well pin you down for hours without breaking a sweat… it makes you moan.

“You hot for me already, baby? I haven’t even touched you yet.” His hand leaves your hip and you feel him skim it up to your breast, cupping it and squeezing before roaming to the other one.

Javier’s fingers drift back to the center of your sternum. He fumbles with the small buttons there for a moment before hooking his fingers into the openings between them and dragging the fabric hard to one side. You gasp and bite your lip, not quite hard enough to draw blood, but close. You hear the tiny pearl buttons clatter to the floor, but all he’s managed to do is pop off two or three.

“Keep your hands right there for me.” Javier growls into your ear. “Don't. You. Move.” And then he releases his grip on your wrists.

Even though you can guess what’s about to happen, you still go reeling when he actually does it. Javier hooks both hands into the opening he’s created at the bodice of your dress, and there’s the briefest moment of hesitation before you feel the pull of the fabric, the sound of more buttons hitting the floor, the cool air hitting your cleavage. You feel faint with desire, fighting the urge to slump down to the floor, let go of the wall, the only thing holding you in place.

You clench your jaw and try to remember how to breathe as Javier brings both of his hands up to cup your breasts through the lace of your bra. He bends his head down to nuzzle the back of your neck and you nearly faint right there.

Just when you think you can’t possibly take any more, Javier drops one hand down. You feel his fingers trail up the front of your thigh. He skims his fingertips up and under the hem of your dress until he reaches the edge of your panties.

In the blink of an eye his fingers dip between your leg and the lacy fabric, swiping up through your folds, straight to the source of your heat and your slick. He brings his face down to rest alongside your cheek, breathing hot and hard over your skin. You fight the urge to grind down against his hand, knowing that if you do he’ll make you wait even longer for the rest of your pleasure.

“I like your tiny, tight little pussy,” Javier whispers against your cheek. You roll your forehead to the side and let his hot words fan across your lips. The hand on your breast moves down to encircle your ribcage, pulling you tight against him to feel his erection again. “I love feeling you squeeze me… the way my fingers look so big when they’re inside of you.”

Javier’s fingers are sure and quick. Two of them tucked deep inside of you feel almost like four of your own. They are thick, one of your favorite things about him, along with the way his wide chest cages you against the wall where you stand, the way his strong arms encircle you when you have your head tucked against his front.

“Are you going to come like this? I’m not finished with you yet, but I’ll let you come on my fingers first if you promise to be good later.”

The words choke out from you in a whisper. “... if I’m good?”

Javier digs harder inside of you, reaching for the spot he knows makes you quiver, and he brings his broad thumb into play, pressing and circling your clit. You whine and bite your lip again, and this time there’s the metallic sting of blood against your tongue.

“If you let me put my dick in your mouth, slip it between those plump little lips of yours, suck all of it down for me... I’ll let you come. I’ll make you come.” You moan, a low, keening sound full of need and want, and Javier knows he’s got you right where he wants you.

“If you’re good, if you can fit all of me this time, I might even let you come twice.”

“Yes!” Your voice is foreign to your own ears, high and ragged. “Yes, Javi, I want you. I want you to stick your huge dick down my throat. Please.”

“And then? After you’re done taking me down your throat, I’m going to fuck you hard. Watch my massive cock disappear into that tight little cunt of yours. You want that?”

“Yesss,” you hiss, and your head is completely filled with the feeling of Javier stretching you open, the way that he fills you up... the way that he fucked you last week when you straddled him and he grabbed your hips and bounced you up and down on his cock like you weighed nothing.

“Oh god, Javi, I’m close.” His thumb rubs your clit twice more and he flexes his fingers inside of you, sending you over the edge. You keep your hands on the wall and promise yourself that you’ll be good for him, knowing that he’ll be good to you in return.

“That’s my girl.” Javier chews your earlobe and you finally slump, letting him turn you and pick you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you to his bedroom to finish the job.

---

Javier Peña character masterlist

JHFTM Main Masterlist

“Everything bagel” tag list: @quica-quica-quica @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian @javierpinme @eri16 @mandocrasis @pilothusband @bastillealmighty @eri16 @jitterbugs927 @babiiface95 @toomanystoriessolittletime @yespolkadotkitty @fisforfulcrum @prettylilhalforc @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @wildemaven @coreychick @castleamc @coreychick @astoryisaloveaffair

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neonponders · 3 years

Text

Okay I’m in this Flayed!Steve thing now. Here’s part 2 for this post ~

It’s the angsty middle (I don’t know if I’m doing a part 3 so this might just be angst with no conclusion LOL) so I’ll put it under the cut.

• • • • • • •

Billy frowned at Max’s gaggle of weirdos from atop his lifeguard throne. She had a pass to the pool - courtesy of his job - so the extremely obvious sneaking around was even weirder than that herd of freshmen usually behaved.

Whatever. It’s summer. It’s closing time, and Billy’s got plans to be nowhere in Hawkins tonight. He’s got a concert ticket burning a hole in his locker, and he can’t help but touch it fondly after he finishes his shower -

The lights go out.

He wants to slouch and tip his head back like Max does when she’s just over it. But since he’s the boss around here, he puts strength in his legs and barks, “HEY! Lights on and get out!”

When nothing changed, he quickly yanked on his jeans, t-shirt, and shouldered his backpack - ticket safely locked within an interior pocket -

Billy’s mouth opens to bellow, but someone else beats him to it.

“MAX!”

The voice is familiar but he can’t place it. Or rather, it’s out of place, so he doesn’t believe it until he sees Steve Harrington for himself.

“Max! Get out of the freaking sauna! I’m not interested in smelling like old men.”

Billy frowned. There was only one sauna, and women didn’t use it. A mild warning bell moves through Billy’s head at why Max could possibly be in the sauna at all, but instead he chooses to intercept the guy yelling for his stepsister.

“Hey, Harrington.”

It was convenient that Billy stood behind him; he got the full view of that Scoops Ahoy uniform as Steve turned around and -

Got a sandbag in the stomach. The pool staff used those to weigh down signs and traffic cones on busy days in the parking lot, but for the life of him, Billy had no idea where it had just come from. They weren’t stored anywhere near the locker rooms or sauna.

Billy gaped as the guy vocally coughed and flew backward. A good bit of spit got knocked out of him on the way into the sauna, and then the door slammed shut.

Freshmen swarmed around Billy, running at the door to bar it shut. Byers’ brother read the thermometer on the wall. “Almost at two hundred!”

“Max.”

Her red ponytail flew around her head as she looked at him and his confusion. “Billy, I don’t have time to explain.”

“You might!” Lucas intercepted. “We don’t know how long this will take!”

A new voice asked, “How long does it take?”

Billy analyzed this new person’s sailor uniform. “Who are you?”

“Robin. Who the hell are you?”

“I work here!” Billy growled. “What the hell are all of you doing after hours?”

“Steve’s possessed by something,” Robin said.

Billy’s voice went deadpan. “It’s July.”

She grimaced, “So?”

“So take your Halloween bullshit out of here - ”

Slow...quiet laughter turned their heads to the sauna door. Yet...the laughter didn’t match the sobbed, “Bullshit. My life is bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit.”

“Two-fifteen,” Byers narrated by the thermometer. As if connected to the temperature, Steve got louder, wailing an atrocious sound that made even Billy wince.

“We’re all getting arrested for this if you don’t let him out - ”

“We can’t let him out!” Wheeler shouted. Jesus, the kid was just as bullheaded as his sister. “The Mind Flayer’s inside of him. Maybe you might be bored enough to let this thing take over our dimension, but we’re not!”

“Mike, he doesn’t know,” Max said as if trying to soothe the situation, but Billy’s eyes were on the sauna window. Steve had stood up. And Max stood too close to the door.

A fist broke the glass and gripped her hair the same time Billy dove for her. Max screamed as they both landed against the sauna door. Everyone was yelling, but through the chaos, a hand entered Billy’s vision and Steve flew away from the door as if pulled by a rope behind him.

Billy dragged Max away, but not without seeing how Steve landed on the floor, broken tiles following him from the wall. A girl stood beside them, but Billy didn’t know her. She had a nosebleed but didn’t seem to care. “Steve. Fight it. Fight.”

No laughter this time, but the sound of Steve crying was...hard to listen to. Billy and Max slowly returned to the others, all of them peering into the sauna at Steve slumped on the floor.

“I can’t. I’ve been trying. I can’t anymore. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He held his bleeding hand, but all of him sounded broken. Billy heard himself ask, “What’s wrong with him?”

“Mind Flayer,” the girl said.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean anything to me,” Billy remarked.

“It’s a creature from another dimension,” Byers said...a bit too calmly. “It possessed me last year.”

“You seem fine,” Billy retorted, even though Byers was pale, skinny, and for some reason stayed true to that ridiculous bowl cut.

“My mom and brother got it out of me, but it won’t be as easy this time. All of the flayed people have been eating chemicals. Steve’s house is a mess.”

Robin pointed at the window, “Does that look all right to you?”

Billy refocused on Steve...and all the black veins on his arms, his face.

“Two-forty,” Byers said.

The curly-haired kid...Dustin, Billy remembered from some locked cabinet of his brain, said, “The human body can’t survive past one hundred and ten.”

“What if he’s not human anymore?” Lucas said quietly, like a secret.

“Steve’s still in there!” Dustin yelled, even though his tone was soaked with doubt. “Steve, you gotta fight it, man. Come on! I know you don’t have the best track record, but this is a fight you can’t lose!”

“I ALREADY LOST!” he screamed. Max was crying in Billy’s arms. He hadn’t realized they still held onto each other. Steve cried, “I lost. Soon as this thing’s out of me...I’m dead. I’m so thirsty. All he drinks is bleach. I’m not okay. There’s no way I’m okay. I’m sorry. Robin. I’m sorry. I tried. I tried so he didn’t see you. I tried every time...”

Billy didn’t know what the hell was going on, but Steve’s veins were black, all of them bulging beneath his skin as he began to convulse. Will moved, gasping and weirdly riveted to Steve vomiting something that looked too thick to be saliva.

Then he deflated. “That’s not it. That’s not enough. Two-fifty.”

“What’s it look like?” Lucas asked.

“It’s a cloud - a vapor. It’s - ”

“A shadow.”

Like rats scattering, they retreated from the window where Steve stood again. Except the girl remained, gazing steadily back at him as he reached through the window...not to grab her, but to test the distance.

Steve smiled. Billy felt cold. “Limited human parts.”

Her jaw stiffened as her hands formed into fists at her sides. Opening. Closing. Opening. Closing.

Opening, and rising to point her palm at the window. “When the spider leaves, the web dies.”

Billy couldn’t believe that Steve moved because of this girl, but he landed against tiled wall again...and again.

Dustin was shrieking as Lucas and Mike held him back. “You’re killing him! Stop! Please!”

The girl sobbed through the blood dripping past her mouth -

A guttural hack of a sound wrenched out of Steve, and the sauna went dark. Not like the lights going out...but like dust out of a vacuum. Soot from a faulty firework making Billy squint and then dodge out of they way of Lucas wielding a lighter and hairspray.

To Billy’s horror, the soot cloud moved. Dodging and evading the hairspray flames - some of it even catching light and moving like cinders.

Lucas, Mike, and the girl chased it out of the building, but Billy and the others looked at Robin wrenching the sauna open. Steve lay unmoving inside.

“Steve? Steve! Oh...god. We need a hospital.”

They didn’t have a hospital. But they did have a lifeguard.

“Move. Let me see him.”

Billy still had no functional idea of what the hell was going on. All he knew was that he didn’t get paid enough for any of this, and his CPR training told him: when in doubt, keep compressions going until better helps comes.

“Max, call an ambulance. Then stand outside to flag them down. Robin, help me move him out of here. It’s too hot.”

For all of Max’s faults, an unsteady head was not one of them. She took off for a phone and Robin was thankfully nearly as tall as Steve and Billy. They lifted Steve with ease and got him to a locker room bench. Dustin and Byers put cool-soaked towels underneath Steve’s armpits as Billy began chest compressions.

Both boys flinched back at the sound of bones snapping. Dustin exclaimed, “That’s not right! That can’t be right!”

“I have to break the sternum off the ribs to compress his heart. Stay the hell out of my way.”

Maybe it was the sound, or the sound coupled with Steve’s sweat and slimed-drenched face, but Robin finally broke. She ran for a toilet and heaved. Then both boys held onto her, crying as Billy gripped Steve’s hair and jaw to open his windpipe and breathe into him.

It was gross. It was terrifying. And it felt like nothing was happening. Steve was cold and unmoving. He tasted strange. Soft lips made acrid and sharp.

Voices echoed in Billy’s ears but he didn’t stop. He counted to thirty and breathed for Steve twice.

Thirty.

Breathe.

Thirty.

He still counted even after an EMT ripped him off of Steve, and left him standing vacantly in the lot as the firework of a truck sped away.

#tw the sauna scene #tw torture #tw medical #harringrove #flayed!steve #neonponders #i'm sorry haha

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hoodharlow · 3 years

Text

The Rat

EL Novio Quarantine Edition: Part 2

AN: Here's Part 2. It was suuposed to be posted yesterday but I spent the whole day out running errands, and I got home late. Hope you enjoy

Warnings: Mentions of dog bites, blood, waiting room scene, some sex jokes, baby talk and baby fever (idk if it’s baby fever but yeah lol)

Word Count: 2.2k

"Your mans fans can't be this oblivious." Medelyn told Claudia, sliding her phone to read yet another tweet about Calum and Claudia's friendship.

At the start of quarantine, fans were surprised to see that Calum was in Torrey Pines and not at his house in Los Angeles. They weren't surprised to see him at the Santos' home. They all gathered that he has become a friend of the family. Some of their fans joked that he was using Claudia to get to Diego so he can then get to Guy Fieri since he obsessively watched Guy's Grocery Games. Some fans didn't think much of it, they were just happy to get Calum content whenever Claudia would record him trying her baking goods for TikTok.

The one thing that they never guessed is that they were dating. The few fans that listened to Claudia's podcast knew that her boyfriend was staying with her and her family. They just didn't know her boyfriend is Calum.

"They are." Claudia said, taking a large gulp of her licuado. "They're still trying to figure out if the girl from Taylor's party and Benito's album release are the same person. They're struggling because my hair was straight in New York and curly in Miami."

"Stop," Medelyn laughed. "Speaking of your mans, where is he?"

"He took Duke and Panchito out on a walk. My dad doesn't need him at the restaurant until later."

"I still can't believe Diego is making him make deliveries."

"He's gotta pull his weight." Claudia joked.

Medelyn went to check on her sleeping newborn in the living room where he slept on a bassinet. She came back a few minutes later to keep talking to Claudia. It was still a surprise to anyone that knew them back in high school to see them get along. A few weeks ago they talked about it in Claudia's podcast and dissected why they didn't like each other in high school. It had mostly to do with the internalized misogyny and how because they were both latina, they both couldn't be at the top. One of them had to fail while the other was successful. Listeners compared it to how Naomi Campbell and Tyra Banks were pitted against each other. But unlike the supermodels, Claudia and Medelyn were able to put their differences aside and eventually became friends.

The barking of multiple dogs was heard out in the front yard. Claudia got up from where she was sitting and went to see what was going on. The front door opened and closed as she tied her shoes.

"That fucking rat has it out for Duke and Panchito and it's owner has it out on me." Calum cursed, unclipping Duke and Panchito's leashes.

Claudia scoffed and watched him take off his shoes. "You're being dramatic. Mrs. Garner and her dog are literally so nice."

"The rat nearly attacked Panchito. If it weren't for Duke, we'd be on our way to the animal hospital."

"Ah ha okay."

"Claudia, I'm being serious." Calum got up and put away the leashes in the coat closet. "If you get bitten by that rat then don't come crying that you need a ride to the hospital."

***

"How the fuck did we end up watching three kids and a baby?" Claudia asked Calum as she slipped on some leggings. "They're not even ours."

"Because you wouldn't let me battle your brother in rock paper scissors. You're so predictable when you play." He said.

Calum leaned back on her bed and watched her get changed for their hike. It wasn't really a hike, they're just going to walk on the dirt trail behind the neighborhood with her niece and nephews while Danny and Medelyn spend some time together.

He gently smacked Claudia's ass a few times, watching it bounce against the fabric of her leggings. "I fucking love your ass."

"And I love yours. Jesse is a miracle worker." She said repeating his actions.

Calum rolled his eyes and followed Claudia out of her room to the living room. Guito, Paloma and Damian sat on the couch watching Duck Tales as they passed a giant bowl of popcorn. The three kids looked nothing alike, but it was obvious they were Junior and Marlene's kids. They all had distinct features from their parents. After spending time with them, it always left Calum wondering about how his kids with Claudia would look like.

Of course they haven't talked about having kids anytime soon. Claudia was about to graduate and attend grad school at UCLA. Calum knew better than to get in the way of her academic future. For now he just kept the thought of kids to himself. He also knew that Diego would murder him if he uttered baby making and Claudia in the same sentence.

Claudia emerged from the kitchen with a lunch bag and waters. She squatted down in front of the stroller and put in the things in the bottom basket along with the diaper bag Medelyn packed for them. She turned back and caught Calum's eyes permanently glued on her ass.

"I'm gonna ask Danny for a rematch." he said, pushing himself up from the couch.

"No you're not." Medelyn said, stopping him. "We need this. We stopped having sex the minute I couldn't see my feet. And add the forty days I couldn't do anything. We need this."

"Cal, don't worry. We'll be back in a blink. Danny is gonna need at most five minutes." Claudia said. She wrapped her arms around him, and pushed back his growing curls. She kissed his cheek and whispered. "When we get back I'll suck your dick."

"Let's get this show on the road." Calum told the kids. "When we get back, Danny and Medelyn can take all of you to Coldstone."

"Can we get Ice Cream cake?" Paloma quietly asked him.

"Sure."

The three kids cheered. One by one, they went to the front door and put on their shoes. Calum carried the stroller down the steps and helped Claudia put Sebastian in the stroller. After spending a good five minutes on the importance of 'Slip-Slop-Slap' and sunscreen, the party of six plus Duke and Panchito were on their way. The kids walked just a few feet ahead of Claudia while she pushed the stroller. Calum stayed back with Duke and Panchito. He didn't mind, the trail was slightly slanted and it gave him a spectacular view of Claudia's ass.

About halfway around the trial they all stopped at a bench under a tree. The kids sat down and ate some Gansitos. Claudia set down two bowls of water for Duke and Panchito to drink.

"You think they're done?" Calum asked Claudia when sat on the ground.

“Honestly, the last thing on my mind is how long my brother takes o fuck his girlfriend.” She said reaching over for her water.

He took off his windbreaker, leaving him shirtless. He stretched and flexed his muscles.

"You're so rude." Claudia said before taking a large gulp from her pink Hydro Flask.

They stayed in the shades area for another half an hour and then turned back home. Claudia and Calum fell into step while the kids raced each other distances determined by what they saw on the ground. They made a quick pit stop at the kids' house because Damian had too much water. He couldn't hold it until they got back to Claudia's house, who lived four houses up the same street.

When they got to the house, they found Danny and Medelyn passed out on the couch while 'Sortilegio' played in the background. Claudia placed Sebastian on his bassinet and unclipped Duke and Panchito's leashes. Damian and Guito stayed outside wanting to play some soccer with Calum. So Claudia and Paloma migrated to the kitchen to make some brownies.

Paloma left to play on her iPad the second Claudia placed the baking dish on the oven, leaving her to do all the cleaning.

A loud growl followed by a scream came from outside where Calum and the boys were. The front door slammed open with Calum carrying Damian with Guito following him.

"The rat bit him." Calum told Claudia when he sat Damian on the counter.

"Let me see." Medelyn said motioning Calum to step aside. She snapped her fingers at them. "Someone get me a first aid. Hopefully he doesn't need stitches."

Calum went to the pantry and grabbed the box hanging on the wall. Medelyn took it and got to work on Damian's arm.

After five minutes of tending the bite, Medelyn wrapped up his arm in a gauze and motioned Calum, Claudia and Danny.

"He needs stitches. The cut is pretty deep and he may need a shot, too." She said.

"Fuck." Danny cursed.

"I'll take him." Calum volunteered.

"I'll go with you." Claudia said.

After lots of convincing and crying, Damian, Claudia and Calum were on their way to a community clinic. Claudia's knee bounced while they waited for Damian's name to be called. He had fallen asleep on Calum's arms.

She texted Junior and Marlene updates. They were waiting outside in the parking lot for them. Ten more minutes pass until they call for Damian. Claudia stayed back while Calum went with him since he was there when the bite happened. Half an hour later they came out.

"So?" Claudia asked anxiously.

"The nurse gave Tío Cal her number, but he said no thank you." Damian said sticking a Spider-Man sticker on his shirt.

"Oh?" Claudia quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I still got it." Calum smirked.

"You say that as if you're fifty and not twenty-four." She snorted.

They made their way to the parking lot. Damian let go of Claudia's hand and went to hug his mom. He proudly told Junior and Marlene that the stitches and the shot didn't hurt. Calum briefly told them what happened and how the someone from the Humane Society was going to over in a few days to put the dog on house arrest.

Damian rode with his parents on the way back to Claudia's. The car ride was quiet. Calum and Claudia didn't even bother to put on music or a podcast.

"You okay?" she asked him when they got to her house. "Regret not taking the nurse's number?"

"Funny," He said. He took off his cap and scratched his head. "Just thinking about Damian and everything. I don't know, I just feel like this is my fault. Obviously it's not, I wasn't the one who bit him nor that was my dog. But I just can't help thinking that if we played in the backyard like we always do, he wouldn't have gotten bitten."

"I have no idea how to respond because I don't wanna dismiss what you're feeling, ya know. But I just wanna say that I'm very impressed at how responsive and on top of it you were. Like when we have kids, I'm not gonna worry because I know you'll be at my side ready." She said.

"When?" Calum asked.

Claudia's eyes widened, realizing what she said.

"Shit. I didn't mean it like that. Like today when we babysat. You knew what to do and stuff…"

"Miss Santos do you wanna have my children?" He teased her. Noting how uncomfortable she got, he stopped laughing. He cleared his throat and silently counted to five. "Would you ever want kids?" With me? He added in his head.

Claudia stopped playing with the elastic on her facemask and turned on her side and faced him. Calum mirrored her actions and shyly smiled at her.

"I didn't think we'd have this talk so soon." She giggled.

"Better sooner than later." he shrugged. "I'd want some or at least one."

"Yeah?"

"Preferably with you of course. But if Katy Perry drops Orlando Bloom, then we go our separate ways."

"That's fine, I'll just hit him up." She giggled. "Jokes aside, I do want kids. Just not right now. I mean we're in a pandemic for fucks sake. I also feel like it's too soon. Like my parents and brothers had their kids pretty young. I don't want to be responsible for someone when I'm barely learning to take care of me, you know? Like once we're more settled down and whatnot we can talk about starting a family. But for now I don't wanna share you with anyone."

"I agree with you 100%." Calum said, pulling her to kiss her. He pulled away. "We probably shouldn't kiss after coming from a clinic."

"You're right." Claudia laughed, pulling away from him. She pointed behind her. "Plus my dad's watching us."

***

Claudia and Calum took out their grocery bags from Calum's car when someone cleared their throat behind them. It was Mrs. Garner, the owner of the dog that bit Damian. A few days ago the Humane Society came by and put her poodle mix on house arrest for two weeks.

"Hi, Mrs. Garner." Claudia greeted, pulling up her mask to cover her nose and mouth.

"You're going to regret the day you crossed me and reported my baby, mark my words. You don't know who you're messing with."

With that Mrs. Garner turned on her heel and went back to her house.

"What the fuck?" Claudia said, trying not to laugh.

"C'mon, your ice cream and dino nuggets are going to melt." Calum motioned her.

Claudia turned back to Mrs. Garner's house and then back to Calum. "Has she always had cameras in front of her house?"

Taglist: @f-mu @another-lonely-heart @sunshinebabycal-deactivated2021 @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @cherryxwildflower @myloverboyash @idontneedanyone @findingliam-o @5-secondsofcolor @spicycal @sexgodashton @fckingpernico @2fangirl4u @calpops

#calum hood fluff #calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #calum hood one shot #calum hood fanfic #calum hood imagines #calum hood one shots #el novio quarantine edition #El Novio series

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cooper-ation · 3 years

Note

Head cannons, huh? Well, since it's the Month of spooks, how about the guys going through a haunted house? :) Like the kind with actors that jump out at you and honestly are kinda cheap. lol

They’d all split off at the start, because they all want to go at different paces (or not go in at all - but they all end up going in anyway)

They all go in full costume by the way, so Smitty is using that to his advantage, ie: scaring the poor actors

Everyone knows when Scotty gets scared, because he has one of those screams that makes birds fly from the trees

So there’s like, fifty of those screams throughout the entire night (fun fact: only forty nine of those screams were Scotty - the other one was Brian)

Most of Scotty’s screams are actually caused by stupid things like him getting caught in a cobweb he didn’t see, or tripping on a floorboard or something

Marcel acts all brave around the guys but once he gets lost he starts crying like a child

He keeps trying to blind the actors with his torch like it’s DBD and it kind of works

Tyler insists that nothing scares him but he falls for some of the jump scares

Whenever Tyler gets scared it involves a lot of cursing, and some rather vulgar language that the poor actors really didn’t need to hear

Evan is just set on making everyone’s night worse by feeding into their fears

Especially Brock, since he is scared of just most things in general (he was definitely brought there against his will)

Nogla and Delirious end up split off together, which is probably worst case scenario in a haunted house type of situation

They both insist on walking back-to-back the whole time so they won’t get scared

And Delirious keeps panicking and screaming and Nogla keeps telling him to shut up even though he is screaming just as much as Del

Brian finds them at some point and decides to fuck with them

So he creeps around the corner all sneaky-like, and goes to scare them…

But then Smitty pops out from around the corner, having not seen Del and Nogla

So everyone screams

Everyone comes out of the house a little shaken up

Except Evan and Brock, who get stuck in the mirror maze and have to be escorted out by an employee

Smitty does one last jump scare when they exit and Brock just breaks down into tears

So yeah, they never do haunted houses ever again

#banana bus squad #cooper answers #cooper’s hcs #hello! haven’t seen u in a while!!

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thecomposerofstories · 3 years

Text

Information on Amy.

(Be warned it's a ~little bit~ long, any other pieces of information you want to know I'll gladly answer if you ask.)

~General Information~

Fandom: Toy Story.

Name: Amy the Ragdoll.

Nickname, if any: Amy, Ames, and Doll-Face(usually by more villainous characters or used in a joking manner).

Gender: Female.

Sexuality: ??? (I mean I know the gender of who she has a crush on, but I'm unsure on what her actual sexuality should be tbh)

Age: Mentally, mid-twenties in the first story second movie, thirties to forties in the third and fourth. Physically, she doesn’t have an age, but in regards to when she was made (the 1950’s) makes her fifty to sixty.

City they currently live in: San Francisco, apparently that’s where Toy Story takes place.

Any pets: Would Rex count? He just follows her around like a nervous puppy.

Current occupation: I mean she’s practically a therapist, but she’s a toy and she only treats Rex so it probably doesn’t count lol

~Physical Appearance~

Height: 10 inches.

Body type: Stocky, but a bit gangly too, similar to Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

Eye colour: Black.

Skin tone: Light.

Clothing style: Pale green/turquoise shirt with short puffed sleeves, with a denim dungaree dress with a daisy print in the centre over it. She wears yellow rain boots.

Hairstyle: No style, it’s just there. It’s messy and gets in her face easily and is made out of dark brown thin string.

~Speech/Language/Communication~

Amy speaks quietly and politely, rambles a bit if left without a reply or under pressure, very nervous in front of intimidating characters.

First language: English.

Learned languages: A bit of Spanish (Ya’ll remember Toy Story 3!)

Accent: American.

Pitch of voice: High, but soft, not quite annoying, unless she’s stressed, then it gets very pitchy and shrill.

~Behaviour/Habits~

Amy tends to just stand there when she can’t find anything to do, and will immediately try to find Rex, Hamm, Buzz or Jessie if surrounded by strangers (Though she’s not sure if it’s for their comfort or her own) Amy is very polite.

Spending habits: She doesn’t like to be made a fuss of at all, the very fact of someone giving something to her is unnerving (even if the thing never costed anything at all) and she feels compelled to give the giver something in return.

Morning routine: She gets up same time as the others, but wishes she could stay in bed a bit longer though. Before she came to Andy’s room, her sleep pattern was all over the place.

Bedtime routine: Similar to above, now she goes to bed the same time as the others, but before she just slept and got up willy-nilly.

Nervous habits: Amy will try to find Rex if she’s nervous, and she’ll pretend it’s because she’s worried for him, which is quite true, but she also just feels most safe with him. Speaking of, Amy will let Rex hold her hand and squish it whenever he or Amy is nervous, it’s calming to the both of them.

Bad habits: Not a very good exerciser, but then again, she’s spend basically half her life in a small attic, so I’ll give her a break.

Skills/talents: She’ very logical, mind-over-matter, (mostly, very good at calming others down and/or convincing them. She’s very good at spelling and knows quite a lot of words, some of which others haven’t even heard of.

Hobbies: Reading, talking (especially with Rex, Jessie or Hamm), and generally just lazing about or walking around somewhere, on her own or with a friend.

~The Past~

Amy’s first owner was a little girl called Alice. Alice loved nothing more than to read Amy stories (Mostly fairy tales), but of course, Alice grew up like all kids do, and she left Amy in the attic for someone else to have her.

Amy waited for many years, and all that time she’d never given up that someone would find her.

She thought she’s hit the jackpot when Andy and his family move into Alice’s old house, but they don’t go up into the attic to collect her. Some weeks later, though, Andy’s mother brings a set of boxes filled with junk into the attic and leaves. Woody, Buzz, Slinky, and Rex were trapped in one of the boxes (Call me a cheater but this part was actually inspired by a Toy Story comic, where those four toys get stuck in the attic that way and have to escape. It struck me odd that they never met at least one new friend there, so I made one. It was also my first story, I needed some inspiration!)

Amy, in a fit of panic, goes and hides.

But then she’s found by Rex as he and the others try to find a way out.

They then decide to let the strange, dust-covered ragdoll come back to Andy’s rom with them. (well, Rex did, anyway.)

Home town: Would Alice’s old room count? But it’s now Andy’s Room, so it won’t count will it?

Happy or sad childhood: Pretty normal to be honest, as normal a life as a toy could have anyway. And as for sadness, having spent all that time on her own for all those years, having missed out on so much, is a little sad. But Amy made sure she never became bitter over it or used it as an excuse for anything.

Earliest memory: Waking up in her toy store, with a friend of hers for company (a ragdoll Prospector, a much as she remembers) and as she gets bought by Alice’s Auntie, she says she hopes he gets picked up by a kid. (Unbeknownst to her, she would meet him again in a while to find out he never got to experience it)

Saddest memory: One, being left by Alice, yet being so happy for her and how much she’s grown up, if she could cry tears of joy for her owner, she would. Two, some (or most) of the days she spent waiting for a new owner to arrive. And three, watching Rex have a mental breakdown of anxiety.

Happiest memory: One, the time she and Alice went to the park, (Amy absolutely adores nature) Two after sliding down a drainpipe to get to Andy’s room, and three, having known she’d helped her friend out.

Significant events: Being bought, being left in an attic, being rescued from the attic, while gaining some new friends.

~Family~

The entirety of Andy’s room, whether they like it or not, they’re all in this together and are some kind of mish-mash, found family in a sense.

Siblings: I’ve been thinking of giving Amy a brother (since I based her on Raggedy Ann, a matching bootleg Raggedy Andy seems reasonable) bur I’m unsure about it, since I’ve already mapped out Amy’s entire series of stories (Around six or seven all together, so far I’m currently writing only the third) and I can only fit him in the fifth or sixth if I can.

~Relationships~

Romantically? I’d like to say she has a crush on Rex, I don’t know why I thought of it, I was contemplating it one day as I sketched a rough (and terrible) sketch of her, and I drew Rex too because he’s just so fun to draw and I wanted to make a scale for Amy’s size, and one of my friends (who had been watching me) immediately said “I ship it!” and well, the rest is history, I made the decision to ship it too.

Friends: Jessie, Hamm, Buzz, and Rex are her closet friends, but she’d like to say that all the Gang are her friends. Later on she becomes good friends with Mr. Prickle Pants, Buttercup, Trixie and Totoro, and she absolutely loves the peas and Forky.

Best friend(s): Hamm, Mr. Prickle Pants, Jessie, and Rex.

What do people like about them? Amy’s pretty easy to talk to, she’s polite and attentive and will sit in companionable silence with someone if they need it. But she won’t hesitate to give hard truths and advice if it’s needed.

What do people dislike about them? Amy is quite a doormat, if someone is rude to her or breaches anything she just lets it happen, and sometimes she’s too indecisive about her own stuff, unsure whether she’s going to offend others or not over the smallest things, which annoys others quite a bit.

~Mentality/Personal Beliefs~

Amy is a toy of logic, and though she believes others can do it if they set their minds to it, she doesn’t quite believe in herself. She believes she must follow the rules of being a toy at all times, no matter what.

Phobias: Dust. She hates it. It took a good five weeks to brush all the dust out her hair and clothes, and even so there’s still some in her pockets and places she can’t reach. And being alone, too. Now she can’t be alone for more than an hour before she starts to get antsy and nervous. And for a short time books gave her a strange tiredness, after reading them for so long and for so many years she couldn’t even stand the sight of them.

But of course, not for long, since Amy found out Andy had a copy of Red’s Dream by a Mr. William Reeves.

Optimist or pessimist: Depends on the situation really, if her mind can’t come up with a solution, then there’s no point in trying anymore. Unless someone else can think of something, that is.

Personal philosophies: “You are here to make good things happen. No person here is made for one reason only, or even only one. There’s no point in pretending to be someone you’re not just for the attention of others, no matter how cool they are. We should find are own meaning, as we’re the only ones who have control of it.

It’ll take a while, but I swear, it’ll be worth it.”

Biggest dream/wish: Amy wants nothing more than to find meaning for herself, but finds it rather hard to do so. Of course, that doesn’t mean she’ll settle for someone else’s meaning. As cheesy as it sounds, she just wants an adventure. She doesn’t necessarily want to be the hero, though, she’s just happy to go along with the ride so long as it gets her out the house for a few hours. She also, above all else, wants Rex to find meaning too, even if she never does, it would be nice to know that he had.

Greatest strength(s): Persuasion, story-telling, logic, and good grammar.

Biggest flaw: Despite being a ragdoll, Amy can’t sew because of her fingerless hands, which are just soft mittens in shape. Amy is also quite a doormat, as I said before, so if her calm persuasion and reasoning doesn’t work, she’s left to be walked all over.

Regrets: Staying in that dratted attic too long, the window was open, she could’ve just climbed out, but no, she had to stay there for some mind-rotting decades. But if she had just escaped, she would never have met her new friends. Amy just wishes she had met them a lot sooner.

Achievements: Escaped the attic, slid down a drainpipe, leapt onto the windowsill (though nearly knocking Woody and Buzz over in the process) stopped her friend from having a panic attack, and managed to remember the entire Dictionary and is able to recite it down from A to Z, and even Z to A.

Secrets: Not much, just strange feelings for one of her friends, but it’s not much of a secret, Bo knows, and Mr. Potato Head and Hamm could see it from a mile away, and the others have their suspicions.

Goals: Read the entirety of Andy’s (and later Bonnie’s) bookshelves, become more confident in herself, have her own book-worthy adventure, and figure out what those strange feelings for her friend is.

~Likes/Favourites~

Favourite colour: Even before meeting Rex, Amy’s favourite colour was always green. Every time Alice had taken her to the park, Amy adored watching the sunlight pour through the leaves with a golden-green glow.

Favourite book(s): Because it’s sentimental to her, being her owner’s favourites, she loves Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Peter Pan, and The Wizard of Oz. They all hold similar plots (a little girl in a blue dress goes to a fantasy land, has a few adventures, and then leaves said fantasy land to go home to her family and responsibilities) but it reminds Amy of her old owner Alice (who was actually named after Alice from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland) and their playtimes together.

Favourite Book Quotation(s):

“Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises.”

“There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The true courage is facing danger when you are afraid.”

Favourite movie: Amy does much prefer books, since they allow her to imagine the setting and characters in her own way, but doesn’t mind movies, and isn’t picky on what they watch, though she does quite like horror films.

Favourite song: Amy likes any kind of music, new or old.

Favourite game: Amy never really cared for games, the competitiveness always bothered her and stressed her out. But she’s more than happy to watch Rex play his video games and cheer him on.

~Relationships with other characters~

~Rex~

- Hit it off pretty quickly.

- Amy helps him with his anxiety, and helps him find confidence in himself, she acts as a certain therapist to him.

- Both become very stressed without the other around.

- Rex will hold and knead at Amy’s hands sometimes; it calms him down.

- Rex will let Amy ride on his back if she’s tired or needs to see something (Because she’s so short).

- One of them can basically be talking about the most boring-est things ever, yet still the other will hang on to their every word.

~Jessie~

- Became friends pretty quickly.

- Will drag Amy along anywhere.

- Get along fairly well.

- Jessie does the talking and Amy does the planning.

- Jessie always pranks the other toys and makes Amy tag along (along with Hamm).

- Introvert/Extrovert dynamic for sure.

- Both were left in alone for years so like to find solace in each other.

~Hamm~

- Hamm begrudgingly warmed up to the timorous ragdoll.

- Surprisingly good pals.

- Have full conversations without saying anything.

- Like to sit and look out of the window together.

- Hamm makes Amy laugh when she really shouldn’t (mainly when he makes fun of the other toys, mainly Woody).

- Hamm makes fun of Amy having a crush on Rex every once in a while, though he doesn’t mean any harm.

~The Potato Heads~

- Mr. doesn’t really interact with Amy much, but finds her surprisingly tolerable, if a bit high-strung and annoying.

- Like Hamm, Mr. makes Amy laugh at the most wrong moments.

- She and Mrs. Are quite good friends, and she sometimes lets Amy take care of the aliens if she and her husband are busy.

~Woody~

- Are aquianteces.

- Don’t exactly interact much, even though the whole room practically revolves around him, in Amy’s opinion, though she would never say it to his face.

~Buzz~

- Amy thinks he’s super cool (then again, he is Buzz Lightyear, he practically invented coolness)

- Both are just as clueless as one another when it comes to social cues and interactions.

- Amy helps him with vocabulary and spelling every once in a while.

~Mr. Prickle Pants~

- Are absolute BFF’s.

- Go back and forth with book quotes to the point of driving the other toys insane.

~Bo Peep~

- Amy's not exactly sure if Bo has befriended her or not.

- (She has)

- They later become good friends.

- Amy misses their talks, Bo was one of the only toys she could talk to that could keep a secret.

#amy the ragdoll #toy story #oc #toy story oc #character information #original character #oc's #ocs #character development #fan character

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izzyfandoms · 4 years

Text

Sleepality - Inky Freckles

SHIPS: Sleepality, background Virmile and Thomgan, and mentioned Dukeceit (though neither of them show up)

WARNINGS: Remus sends one text message with an implied threat (not towards the recipient), very very background sympathetic deceit and remus (they aren't acc in any scenes), mild swearing

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @ajdraws0430 @phantomofthesanderssides @creativity-killed-thekitten @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread

Masterpost

Patton chewed distractedly on the end of his pen, tapping his foot on his bedroom floor as his eyes remained on his clock, watching as the seconds and the minutes ticked by.

Five minutes. Ten seconds.

Five minutes and ten seconds until the moment he turned sixteen.

January 15th, 1:46 am on the dot: the exact date and time of Patton’s birth. Precisely sixteen years after that moment, his soul would open up, and the bond between him and his soulmate would be formed, like an invisible string from one soul to the other. Any ink spilled on Patton’s skin would show up on his soulmate’s, too, and vice versa. Of course, nothing would happen if Patton’s soulmate wasn’t also sixteen yet, but it was still a big moment in his young life.

(If he even had a soulmate, that was. Most people didn’t, but Patton wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t hopeful.)

Four minutes. Thirty-six seconds.

Patton got up from his desk, pacing around the room a few times before sitting down on his bed, leaning back against the pillows and pulling his knees to his chest. Despite the coolness of his room, and the goose-bumps on his arms, he was dressed in a worn blue t-shirt and pyjama shorts, revealing as much skin as possible, just in case. His father, Roman, had gifted him a new pack of pens – the ones made specially to be safe for skin – and he’d picked out the glittery light blue one, his favourite colour, ready to write.

Three minutes. Twelve seconds.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Patton mumbled.

Three minutes. Seven seconds.

He yawned loudly, stretching and almost dropping his pen. It was late – much later than he usually stayed up. Patton was a well-behaved kid; he went to bed when his father told him to, never stayed out past curfew. He was usually fast asleep by 11pm at latest, so this was rather unusual for him.

Tonight was one of a kind, after all.

Two minutes. Fifty-one seconds.

The tick of the clock was maddeningly slow, every second seeming to take hours. Patton couldn’t wait for when he didn’t have to keep watching.

He reached over to his bedside table, taking his phone and switching it on.

There was one new message, from his uncle Remus, sent a few minutes ago.

UNCLE REMUS

tell your soulmate if he ever hurts you ill rip off his dick and shove it down his throat

Patton sighed, switching off his phone and placing it back down beside him. He wasn’t sure why his uncle was so certain that he had a soulmate – he claimed it was because he was psychic, though his husband, Janus, had chided him and told him not to get Patton’s hopes up.

It was hard not to be hopeful. Impossible.

One minute. Forty-nine seconds.

Patton chewed nervously on his lip, looking over his freckled arms and wondering what exactly he’d write to his soulmate.

Would a simple ‘hello’ suffice?

There was no point in writing a whole paragraph, especially when it was statistically unlikely that Patton even had a soulmate – and even if he did, perhaps they were younger, and their connection wouldn’t start until his soulmate turned sixteen, too.

One minute. Zero seconds.

A minute. A minute. A minute. Just a minute until Patton (maybe) talked to his soulmate for the first time. That was so little time – though it felt like so much.

Patton couldn’t help but burst into delighted laughter, and he was sure that if anybody was watching him, they’d think he was insane. The hope bubbled up inside him, like a cup overflowing with water, unable to be suppressed.

Fifty seconds.

He moved forward, and then lay down on his back, spreading his arms out like a starfish.

Patton tried to keep the hope down, tried to keep it from spilling over even more. Or maybe that was nausea, swirling in his stomach, but it almost felt too good to be that. Too happy. Too excited. Both, maybe.

Forty seconds.

Patton twirled the pen in his hand.

It slipped from his fingers, hitting the carpet with a quiet thump.

He bent down – wobbling slightly and nearly tumbling right off his bed – picking it back up and then sitting up again. He moved so his back was pressed against the wall, and tilted his head up to look at the pattern at the ceiling, counting each swirl.

He glanced back at the clock.

Twenty seconds.

His heart thumped loudly in his chest, and his eyes remained on the clock, watching it tick.

Ten seconds.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Zero.

Zero. Zero. Zero.

Patton sat up straight, squeezing the pen tightly, so tightly that his nails dug into his palm.

He pulled off the cap, dropping it on the bed beside him and holding the tip just above his wrist. His hand shook (nervousness or excitement? Both) as he pondered what to write for another moment.

He pressed the pen to his skin.

Hello?

Hopefully that was good enough.

Patton waited a few seconds, almost a whole minute, and then sighed, leaning back so his head hit the wall and closing his eyes. He was disappointed, but he knew that it was his own fault. He shouldn’t have let himself get so hopeful. Maybe he didn’t have a soulmate – that was alright, his uncles weren’t soulmates and yet they were wonderfully happy together.

(But his brother, Emile, did have a soulmate, and there was something amazing about the way he and Virgil could practically read each other’s minds, communicating effortlessly without saying a word. Patton wanted that. He really, desperately wanted that, more than anything else in the world.)

He wouldn’t cry.

He wanted to cry, but he wouldn’t.

His lower lip trembled.

All of a sudden, Patton felt a funny sensation on his wrist, like someone else was writing on it – the non-existent pen so light on his skin he almost couldn’t feel it. Almost.

Patton’s eyes shot open, and he immediately lifted his wrist to stare at it, wide-eyed.

His breath stuttered at the words now written in black ink just below his greeting.

holy shit

Before Patton could truly process what was going on, before he could regain his breath, the sensation resumed, and more words began to appear below those first ones.

guess im ur soulmate lol

Patton couldn’t help but giggle, practically vibrating with excitement.

He picked his pen back up, ignoring the slight stain he’d left on his bedsheets. He’d spilt enough juice and milk on his bed to care about one little stain, especially right now, when he had a much more important thing to focus on.

Oh my gosh!!!!!!

Soulmate!!!

Im Patton!

Patton Picani!!!

thats a lot of exclamation marks babe

Nervousness tinged the edges of Patton’s bubble of excitement, enough that he almost didn’t notice the use of the word ‘babe’, which made his heart skip a beat.

sorry

not a bad thing

its cute

Patton bit his lip, wiggling excitedly as his heartrate increased. He watched as the words continued coming. They were messy, but Patton was sure the handwriting was the prettiest he’d ever seen, though he could admit that he might’ve been a little biased. He would read a million books written in this handwriting.

im Remy

Sanders

my bdays acc the 16th lol

tomorrow

i turn 17

Its my birthday today!!!!

Only after Patton wrote that did he realise how obvious it was – of course it was his birthday – but he didn’t particularly care. The ticking of the clock had faded into background noise, and it was hard to believe it had ever annoyed him so much, though it was impossible for him to think of anything negative right now. He was floating on cloud nine.

happy birthday

were running out of arm space

id have to strip to get leg room

wanna gimme ur number?

Okay!!!

They quickly exchanged phone numbers, and Patton immediately grabbed his phone, creating a new contact labelled ‘Remy’ followed by seven colourful hearts – a rainbow of love. But before he could text Remy, Remy texted him first.

REMY:

what time is it for u

Patton glanced at the clock.

PATTON:

Almost 2am

REMY:

same

Realisation struck Patton, and his eyes widened with guilt and concern. He bit his lip, and quickly resumed typing.

PATTON:

Oh my gosh im so sorry!!!! Did I wake you up?

REMY:

nah babe dw bout it

i was already up

i always sleep late

PATTON:

That sounds unhealthy :(

Get some rest!!!

REMY:

u sound like my dads lol

PATTON:

What are they like?

REMY:

my dads?

its just the three of us

their names are logan and thomas and theyre the sappiest motherfuckers on earth

gotta love em tho

theyre gonna be real thrilled when they find out bout u

bet theyll love you right away

wbu

whats ur fam like

PATTON:

Oh! Well ive got my dad

His name’s Roman

He works in theatre!!! Hes so cool

And I’ve got my older brother Emile hes 22 and hes a therapist

He uses cartoons to help people!!

Hes also got a soulmate his name is Virgil and hes a florist

They got married last year and the wedding was so much fun!!! So many pretty flowers!!!

And I’ve got my uncle Remus hes my dads twin hes a writer and his husband Janus is a lawyer theyre also both so cool!!!

And that’s everyone!!

REMY:

if theyre all as sweet as u sugar then im sure ur all v popular

PATTON:

Well we do have dinner with our neighbours a lot!!!

Mrs Smith gives me lots of candy

Its often stale but I eat it anyway cos shes just so sweet!

Sweeter than her candy lol

Patton’s door suddenly swung open, and he jumped, his phone slipping from his fingers and landing right in his lap. His father, Roman, stepped inside, yawning and rubbing his eyes, wincing at the bright light that hung from the ceiling.

“You still up, Pat?” He asked sleepily.

He squinted, his eyes landing on the still-on phone in Patton’s lap.

“Who are you te- by the glittering horn of a unicorn! Is that writing on your arm?” He sat down, taking Patton’s arm and looking over the words. He then glanced back up at his son, his eyes shining excitedly. “You have a soulmate,” He breathed.

“I do!” Patton exclaimed, bouncing excitedly in place. “His name is Remy and he turns seventeen tomorrow and he’s just so cool!”

Roman beamed. “Wow, I’m so incredibly happy for you, Pat!” He said. Then, he chuckled, his smile turning a little teasing. “But... it’s late, and you really should be sleeping. And I’m betting that Remy should be, too.”

Patton pouted a little. “But it’s a Friday! I don’t have any school tomorrow.”

“But the family’s coming over tomorrow at 10 for your birthday, and I know you. You’re gonna be all grumbly in the morning, instead of our happy-pappy Patton, and that’ll be even worse the less sleep you get.”

Patton drooped, like a little wilting flower, but couldn’t deny that his father was right.

“Okay...” He frowned, picking up his phone, switching off the screen without looking at it, and holding it against his chest. “Can I at least say night to Remy, first?”

Roman smiled. “Sure.”

He leant forward, squeezing Patton’s arm supportively, before pressing a quick kiss to his son’s forehead. Roman gave him one last smile, affectionately ruffling his hair, before pulling back and standing up. He brushed the non-existent dirt from his pyjamas.

“Goodnight, Pat,” He said. “And happy birthday.”

In the excitement that was talking to Remy, Patton had almost forgotten that it was his birthday, and he blinked in surprise as Roman left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Patton then took a deep breath, before switching his phone back on to see whatever messages he’d missed.

REMY:

u rlly r an angel huh

PATTON:

Awwwww!!

Your making me blush

REMY:

thats the goal babe

PATTON:

Such a flirt!!

REMY:

im gonna be ten times more flirty when i get to see ur pretty face in person

PATTON:

How do you know Im pretty?

You havent even seen me yet

REMY:

i can just tell

im awesome like that

i bet ur the cutest person in the whole damn world

the whole damn universe

but while were on the subject of seeing each other

were waiting to meet naturally right?

PATTON:

Yeah!

Its good luck

REMY:

yea

PATTON:

Welp!!!

Dad says I gotta go to sleep now!!

Night <3<3<3

REMY:

night xoxox

Patton switched off his phone, placing it on his bedside table and getting off the bed. He wobbled slightly as he stood up, suddenly realising how tired he really was, and quickly walked up to his fairy lights, switching them on before switching off the main light. He then climbed back into bed, settling in the soft nest of pastel pillows and blankets, and his last thought before he fell asleep was of his soulmate.

He barely knew Remy, but he already couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with him.

***

The sound of the alarm from Remy’s phone rang through the room, waking him up suddenly. His immediate reaction was to groan, shutting it off quickly and then returning to the warm comfort of his mattress and pillows and blanket. It was the weekend, he had no plans, so if his dads wanted him up, they could come in and get him up themselves. Remy wanted to sleep.

Then, the memories of the night before flooded back to him, and he shot up in bed, pulling out his arm and staring at it wide-eyed.

The words Patton had written last night had now been washed away – likely to leave room for new words and new conversations – whilst Remy’s words still remained, though now a little smudged and faded. The only sign that Patton’s words had ever been there in the first place was the new word on his wrist, just below his palm, in baby blue, like the ones before.

Morning <3

Remy grinned, jumping out of bed much more enthusiastically than he usually did, grabbing the black pen on his bedside table and rushing to the bathroom, thankfully not bumping into either of his dads on the way there.

He washed his arms as quickly as he could, leaving them a little sore and red, though he didn’t care, and uncapped his pen with his teeth, leaving the lid in his mouth.

mornin

!!!!!

Do you always get up this late?

Remy laughed. The handwriting was a little larger and a little neater than his, and each i was dotted with a heart, which made him even more convinced that his soulmate was probably the cutest person on earth.

what time is it

10:30

later usually

what time did u get up

8:30

oof

i could never

What do you do for school then?

suffer

Remy took the pen lid out of his mouth, pocketing it and twirling the uncapped pen between his fingers, watching as more light blue words appeared on his arm. The sensation was feather-light, barely there, but impossible to ignore.

Aww no!!

I don’t want you to suffer :(

dw babe ive got coffee

life saver

id die without it

100%

Well make sure you don’t drink too much!!!!

Its bad for you!!

dw my dad always tells me that

he keeps an eye on it

Which one?

logan

Okay

There was a brief pause, and Remy almost continued writing, but he got the feeling that Patton wasn’t done, so he just waited patiently, tapping his foot against the tiled bathroom floor.

Do you mind if I doodle on my arms?

I usually do when Im bored but I thought Id ask

I wont if you don’t want me to tho

go ahead

what do u doodle?

I usually just connect my freckles

Like little constellations!!!!

It was impossible to keep the grin on Remy’s face from widening – Patton's enthusiasm was adorable and infectious – and he sat down on the edge of the bathtub, crossing one leg over the other as he pressed his pen to his skin and continued writing.

u got a lot of freckles?

Yup!

Theyre everywhere

everywhere?

Yeah!

one day

im gonna kiss every single one of your freckles

(Perhaps that was a little bold for only their second conversation, but Remy was a natural flirt, and Patton was his soulmate, after all. He’d back down at any sign of discomfort, but so far Patton had seemed receptive.)

every single one

Thats a lot of kisses

not enough

but itll be a good start

A little, swirly scribble appeared just beside the words Remy had written – the universal key-smash equivalent for soulmates writing on their skin. Just the thought that he was already able to fluster Patton so easily made Remy very, very happy. He grinned.

Gtg! Presents time!

Ill talk to you later <3<3<3

later xoxo

Remy fished the pen lid back out of his pocket, capping the pen and pocketing it. He then strolled back out of the bathroom, down the stairs, and towards the kitchen.

His fathers were both sat at the kitchen table, eating breakfast and talking. Their legs were pressed together under the table, and it was clear they’d just been flirting. Both Logan and Thomas looked up when Remy entered the room, surprised.

“What kind of natural disaster got you up before midday?” Thomas joked.

Remy waved his arm, showing off the writing, and Logan choked on his coffee. Thomas patted his back a few times worriedly, and Remy waited impatiently for the conversation to resume, tapping his foot against the floor.

“Is that what I think it is?” Logan asked incredulously, once he was breathing again.

Remy nodded. “Yup. Can I make coffee?”

Thomas nodded slowly, but it was clear he was much more focused on the previous topic at hand.

“You have a soulmate?” He asked. “Oh my gosh! What’s their name? Aren’t you gonna tell us about them?”

“Well, his name’s Patton,” Remy began, heading towards the coffee machine and immediately getting to work to make himself a large mug. “It’s his birthday today – it was actually, like, 2am, or something – and he’s real cute. I think you’ll both like him.”

Thomas exchanged a look with his husband – the former much more openly thrilled, whilst the latter looked more confused, though undeniably pleased. He then stood up, opening his arms immediately.

“I think this calls for a family hug,” Thomas grinned.

Logan sighed, but put his own coffee mug back down, getting up obediently.

Remy groaned. “Really? Before my coffee? Do I have to?”

“Yup! Right now,” Thomas said, wrapping one arm around Logan’s waist and resting his chin on his head, keeping his other arm outstretched, awaiting their son. “This is a big moment! It calls for a family hug. C’mere.”

“There is no point refusing, Remy,” Logan said dryly. “I learnt that a long time ago.”

“Aww, you love me.”

“Of course. That is why we got married, after all.”

Remy groaned again. “Are you two really flirting, right now? Gross.”

“Well, if you want us to stop flirting, you’re gonna have to join the hug.”

Remy sighed exaggeratedly, dragging his feet as he walked up to his dads, reluctantly joining the family hug. Then, he pulled back as quickly as he could get away with, making a face and turning back to the coffee machine. He quickly made himself a large mug – with excessive amounts of milk and sugar, something his father would usually criticise, though he seemed to turn a blind eye for today.

Remy then sat down at the table, beside Thomas, sipping eagerly at his coffee and leaning back in his chair.

His fathers didn’t take their eyes off of his arm, clearly reading the words, and after about a minute, Remy rolled his eyes, placing the coffee on his table and crossing his arms.

“What are you looking at?”

“Attitude, Remy,” Thomas sighed. “Be nice. And we’re looking at your arm because we’re excited! You have a soulmate, that’s a really big deal! We should celebrate.”

Remy perked up. “Celebrate?”

Logan nodded in agreement. “Perhaps tonight we could have dinner at the Italian place that you like.”

“Ooh, the one with that fancy pasta?”

“Weren’t we planning on going there tomorrow?” Thomas asked his husband.

Remy blinked, surprised. “We were?”

Thomas blinked, and then gave his husband a slightly sheepish smile. “I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that.”

Logan sighed. “Well, I think we can put that off for tomorrow, then. Today... you may invite a few friends over.” Remy opened his mouth, but Logan quickly continued, interrupting him before he could speak. “Three friends, maximum. No parties.”

Remy pouted. “Only three? Lame.”

“If you complain, we’ll bring it down to two.”

“Three sounds great!”

***

Patton picked up his phone, holding it to his ear as he paced casually around his room.

“Emile!” He greeted. “How are you?”

“Happy birthday, Pat!” Emile greeted cheerfully, and Patton could practically hear the usual smile on his face. “And I’m doing great. Virgil invited his brother to dinner yesterday, so that was fun, and I had a real breakthrough with one of my clients, too. You?”

“I’m good! Hey, do you think this counts as Remy and my anniversary? I mean, I know we haven’t actually really met, yet, but it’s been a year since we first spoke, and we are soulmates. Does that count? Would it be weird to count it?”

Emile hummed. “I think that if you want it to count, it counts.”

“That’s a bit vague,” Patton sighed.

Emile laughed. “That’s just how it works, I’m afraid. How is Remy anyway? It’s his birthday tomorrow, right?”

Patton perked up at the opportunity to talk about his soulmate. “Remy’s great! He got a new job at the Starbucks near his house; he’s pretty excited about it. And yup, it’s his birthday tomorrow! He turns eighteen. It’s a funny coincidence, isn’t it? That our birthdays are so close?”

“It’s actually a lot more common for soulmates to have these similarities than you’d think,” Emile said. “Close birthdays, close locations, things like that. I mean, Virgil and I were both born in the same hospital.”

“Really? Oh, that’s cool!” Patton smiled.

He sat down on his bed, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged, and moving so his back was against the wall, half-sitting on one of his pillows.

“Yup! I’ve researched a lot about these things,” Emile said. “And- oh, Virgil, there you are!”

Patton heard rustling on the other end of the line, like Emile was temporarily putting his phone down, probably to greet and kiss his husband. He waited patiently, humming a song from the Steven Universe movie and drumming his fingers against his leg. His eyes scanned the various words written across his arms. Shiny black and glittery light blue. There were doodles, too – lines connecting the dots of his freckles, done by himself, and little stars and moons and hearts by Remy.

Then the rustling resumed, more movement, and Patton stopped humming.

“Morning, Pat,” Virgil greeted.

Patton smiled. “Virgil! How’s work going?”

“Not bad. I helped a guy arrange a hate-bouquet for his ex-boyfriend yesterday, so that was fun.”

“Sounds interesting!”

Virgil hummed in agreement, and it sounded like he was nodding. “I’m gonna hand the phone back to Emile, now. Happy birthday, kid.”

“Thanks!”

There was another moment of rustling, and then Emile returned.

“Okay, Virgil and I have to get to work,” Emile said. “We’re stopping by later for dinner, dad already knows. And, before you ask, no I will not tell you what your gift is, you’re gonna have to wait and see.”

Patton pouted. “Aww, okay. Bye!”

“Bye!”

Patton hung up the phone, before switching over to the texting app, and opening up his conversation with Remy.

PATTON

Hey im running out of space

So im gonna clean my arm

Can you too?

Remy responded almost immediately, as he usually did.

REMY

sure

one sec

Patton smiled, getting up and pocketing his phone. He headed over to the bathroom, quickly scrubbing away the words on his arms (he could leave the ones still remaining on his legs and torso, for now), and watching as Remy’s words disappeared at about the same time.

He then returned to his bedroom, sitting back down on his bed and fetching and uncapping his favourite pen.

The moment the tip of his pen touched his skin, a small black dot appeared just below it, like Remy was doing the exact same on his side – unintentionally trying to write in unison. All of a sudden, a wave of peace and happiness washed over Patton, but the emotions didn’t come from within himself. No, they came from an outside source, from somewhere else. Not from him.

From Remy.

At first, Patton was confused, disoriented, and then his heart skipped a beat, and he lifted his pen from his wrist.

The feeling stopped.

He then returned the pen to his wrist, creating another dot of light blue ink. For a moment, nothing happened, the feeling didn’t return, but then a small black speck appeared just beside his.

This time, the happiness was joined by an almost cautious excitement, tinged with something else.

What was it?

Love?

Love.

It felt like Patton was loving himself, except the love came from elsewhere, it came from Remy. Like a warm, comfortable blanket of love, wrapping around him and keeping him safe.

Patton beamed, wide and toothy and delighted, leaning back against the pillows and practically wiggling with excitement, careful to keep his pen tip on his wrist. A similar, thrilled feeling came back at him, and Patton quickly realised that whatever feelings he was getting from Remy, Remy was probably getting some very similar feelings in return from him.

damn babe

either something v weird is happening to me or thats ur feelings im feeling

I can feel it too!!!

Oh my gosh!

good i was worried i might be drunk

Have you been drinking?

nah thats why i was worried lmao

would be v weird to be drunk with no booze

Well that sure would be unusual!

The feelings from Remy weren’t constant, they only surfaced when both Patton and Remy were writing at once – flashes of emotions that were practically addicting. He wanted to keep feeling those feelings forever.

this is v weird

on and off

think itll get more constant the more we talk?

like we wont need to be both writing at the same time to feel it or smth?

Yeah!

I think so

Thats what happened with Em and Virge at least

cool

cant wait

There was a brief pause, and then Remy’s writing resumed.

can we doodle?

might make the empathy connection thingy better

Sure!

Patton giggled, unable to help himself, before pressing the tip of his pen to one of his freckles and drawing a thin line from it to another. Then another and another and another. Over and around the written words. He wasn’t making any specific shape or pattern in particular, just connecting the numerous dots. As he did this, Patton felt new shapes and doodles appearing on his legs, though he couldn’t see them through his trousers. Hearts and stars and moons and pawprints, most likely. The last one was new – Patton’s favourite.

He could feel Remy’s peace and contentment and love (love, love), like it was flowing through the air and seeping through his skin, filling him with happiness. Sometimes, it even increased for a brief moment, usually just after Patton’s happiness bubbled over into delighted giggles. It was a cycle – happiness creating happiness creating happiness.

Patton loved Remy. Remy loved Patton.

Love. Love. Love.

***

“Hey, Remy!”

Remy glanced up from his phone, straightening up as noticed and watched his best friend, Toby, approaching him. His foot tapped impatiently against the pavement, and his sunglasses were on to shield his eyes from bright midday sun.

“Gurl, what was taking you so long?” Remy complained, stuffing his phone into his pocket and crossing his arms, practically pouting. “I’ve been waiting here for, like, hours.”

Toby gave him a dry look. “I’m ten minutes late.”

“And that’s, like, ten hours in gay-and-in-a-hurry time.”

“In a hurry? What the hell are we even doing? Your text was very vague.”

“Well, it’s my dad’s birthday in a-”

“Which one?”

“Thomas. Bitch, stop interrupting me.”

Toby laughed, and Remy glared at him. He held his hands up defensively in mock surrender, and then gestured for Remy to continue.

“Anyway, it’s my dad’s birthday on Sunday and I’m supposed to get him a gift. I dunno what, though, so you’re gonna help me.”

“I’m pretty sure you know him better than I do.”

Remy shushed him. “Gurl, I am not letting you get out of helping me. So, we’re going to-”

He suddenly froze, going silent. Remy’s brow then creased, too, and after a moment of stillness he began to rapidly pat his arms and legs, like he was looking for something, though he didn’t seem to find it. Toby gave him a bewildered look.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

“I can feel Patton’s emotions,” Remy said.

He could, but only barely – just little hints of Patton, pricking the edges of his soul – much less than he was used to, but still impossible to ignore. He was used to these feelings by now, always recognising them immediately, though this time it was... different.

“Okay... so, he’s writing to you? Isn’t that normal?”

Remy looked back at him, looking just as confused as Toby. “No, he isn’t. He isn’t writing to me. No ink.”

“He... isn’t?”

“I can always feel it,” Remy explained. “Always. But not right now. Why... why-” He froze, his eyes widening behind his dark sunglasses.

“What?”

“He must be close. He must- oh my god, he must be close!” Remy looked around quickly, at all of the surrounding pedestrians. None of them looked right – none of them were Patton – but he could practically sense him. He was so close.

Toby blinked. “Really?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes. Yes, really. I know what I’m talking about!” Remy exclaimed, perhaps a little harsher than intended. “The empath shit only happens when you write or when you’re close. Gurl, that’s, like, common knowledge.”

Toby held his hands up. “Right, uh... sorry.” He cleared his throat. “So, how are we gonna find him?”

Remy’s brow scrunched up in thought. “I don’t know.”

His best friend shrugged, even more lost than he was.

“Maybe... maybe...” Remy continued, trailing off, before he suddenly straightened up. “It’ll get stronger the closer I get to him, so I just have to follow where it’s stronger, right? Like... like getting warmer and colder.”

Toby nodded slowly. “That makes sense. So, uh, walk around, and we’ll go in the direction that makes it stronger.”

Remy immediately began to pace in circles around Toby, pulling a slightly panicked face when at one point the feeling completely disappeared. Then, it got stronger, a wave of anticipation and curiosity, nervousness and excitement.

It suddenly hit Remy that if he could feel Patton, then Patton could feel him, too.

Patton was probably looking for him.

The corners of Remy’s lips twitched up into a smile. He was practically oozing excitement, and it was contagious, as Patton’s also seemed to increase – even Toby began smiling, too.

Toby patted him on the shoulder.

“Go on, follow your gut. I’ll be right behind you.”

Remy immediately turned on his heel, sprinting in the direction the emotions seemed to be coming from, and Toby almost tripped over his own feet following him. The empathy got stronger and stronger and stronger with every step, until it was even stronger than it usually was, and as his excitement further increased, so did Patton’s.

He rounded a corner, and immediately ran right into someone running at a similar speed, and they both tumbled to the ground with two loud thumps.

“Ah, fuck,” Remy groaned, closing his eyes and massaging the bridge of his nose as a jolt of pain shot down his leg.

“Oof,” The other boy winced.

His voice was like a bell, ringing through the air: suddenly the only sound that Remy could hear.

That was when Remy realised that Patton’s emotions were now equal to his own – mixing together in Remy’s soul until they were one and the same. It was almost like they were thinking and feeling as one, which was rather disorienting, to say the least.

Patton... Patton was right in front of him.

Remy opened his eyes, immediately coming face-to-face with the most gorgeous person he had even seen – a wide-eyed and freckled boy, about a year younger than Remy, staring back at him with parted lips and an equally startled expression. He was wearing a blue and grey t-shirt, showing off his arms and the words Remy had written to him today, and all the constellations he’d doodled on his own skin. Now, Remy could see the stars that he’d been missing, and, in his opinion, they were even better than the ones in the night sky.

Patton.

Patton, Patton, Patton.

“Patton,” Remy breathed.

“Remy.”

Remy laughed, uncontrolled and loud and delighted, sitting up straight and taking Patton’s hand in his own, squeezing it. It was warm and soft, Remy never wanted to let go, and when Patton squeezed back, he felt... complete. Perfect. Heaven.

Patton smiled – like a shining sun, one that thankfully didn’t hurt to look at, as Remy couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

“Wow,” Remy laughed. “You’re... wow.”

“Wow,” Patton echoed.

People were probably staring at them – Toby included – but Remy couldn’t take his eyes off of Patton to check. Patton seemed to be doing similarly, his eyes slowly taking in every part of Remy’s body, before returning to his face, staring into his eyes.

Patton’s eyes were brown, like honey in the sunlight. Beautiful.

“It’s... it’s nice to finally meet you,” Patton said softly.

“Likewise.”

There was a beat.

“You are gorgeous,” Remy continued, the words coming out before he could stop himself. He almost regretted blurting it out, but then Patton’s face turned a particularly pretty shade of pink, and Remy immediately grinned.

Patton squeezed his hand. “You, too.”

“Oh, I know I’m hot, babe,” Remy said, making Patton giggle. “But you, you’re... you’re an angel. Like, damn, how the hell did I get so lucky? I must’ve done something really freaking amazing in a past life to have deserved you.”

“You’re even more of a flirt in person,” Patton smiled, a little teasingly.

Remy laughed. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I warned you.”

“You did,” Patton said, smiling fondly.

“Is it too soon to ask if I can kiss you?” Remy asked suddenly. His tone of voice was casual, like he was joking, but they both knew – Patton could probably sense – that he was serious.

Patton didn’t hesitate, answering quickly. “No. I mean, yes. I mean... no, it’s not too soon. Please?”

Remy didn’t waste any time, reaching forward, carefully cradling Patton’s face in his hand and kissing him gently. His lips were soft and warm and Remy never wanted to stop kissing him. Patton covered Remy’s hand with his own free one, kissing back a little clumsily, though it was without a doubt enthusiastic.

Then, he got a little too enthusiastic, and Remy tumbled backwards, pulling Patton along with him.

They broke apart, and after a moment of startled – slightly awkward – silence, they both started laughing loudly, and Patton climbed off of him. He finally stood up, holding out his hand and helping Remy up, too.

The pedestrians that had been watching them had mostly all moved on by now, leaving only Toby hovering awkwardly nearby. He had his phone out, trying to distract himself, give them some privacy, though he was undeniably still keeping an eye out. It wasn’t every day you saw a soulmate pair’s first meeting.

Remy took Patton’s hands in his own, looking him over again and again and again.

An idea came to him – not a new one, one he’d thought about and talked about and dreamed and daydreamed about a million times – and he grinned in a way that he could feel made Patton’s heart skip a beat.

“Remember how I said I wanted to kiss every freckle?"

#me #writing #sleepality #sanders sides #remy sanders #sleep sanders #patton sanders #mosleep #soulmate au #human au #sanders sides au #thomas sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #emile picani #cartoon therapy #virmile #thomgan

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libertarianblue · 3 years

Note

Thanks for answering. By "picky", I mean that for example, on okcupid if they say they're politically liberal or whatever I swipe left. Same for if they talk about any gender shit. I just don't want any part of that. On tinder obviously it's mostly looks you've got to work with but I think I'm probably swiping right on over half of the profiles I see. I am a little picky about looks probably, since I just don't find black or latina women attractive, nor do I want to date someone who's seriously obese. I'm okay with some fat, and frankly I've got some too, but if they're wider than they are tall then it's just disgusting. I'm also not a stellar person myself, I'm a college dropout who's working a minimum wage job and loves with his parents, but it's not like I'm putting that on my profile. I'm trying to get out of that situation but I've basically lost the last decade+ to mental illness and am only now really capable of actually talking to people without panicking. I've only recently started making friends again since high school. Sorry if I'm rambling a bit. I have a short list of things I feel are important for a prospective gf and I to share, mainly boiling down to not being a leftist, being attractive to me, not having kids, ideally being a creative type, and enjoying video games. I know the last part seems dumb but I'm working to be a developer and to me they're my art form. I want someone who I can share that passion with. i don't want to just date someone as a fling, but I don't know if I'd end up saying someone away because of my inexperience. None of the girls I've sent messages to on okcupid have responded at all, and I've only ever gotten a couple of matches on tinder after two years on there, half of which unmatched before I got a chance to say anything. There are a couple that I have matched with who are still there, but none of them have anything in their profiles that really spark any interest. I know I should talk to them but that kind of leads me to my other problem, I really don't know how to talk to someone in a way that works for dating. I don't know how to ask them if they fit my list without sounding weird, and I have no idea what to say to instigate a relationship. I've fairly recently met a girl who I find actually fun to talk to, something I've never found before, but we really share pretty much nothing in common and she's interested in someone else anyway. I was always told that compliments from men were creepy to women, so I'm afraid the way I talk ends up being very stale. In general I think I've been so unsuccessful in part due to my highly feminist upbringing. I'm having to unlearn pretty much everything I was told that women appreciate, so now I just have no clue what to do or how to act. It seems like all the advice online ends up being "be a meek and mild feminist ally", "be an alpha male" or "just be yourself! :)", none of which are actually helpful to someone like me. I don't really think highly of myself so there may have been women who've implied interest that I just assumed were being friendly, but there's only one woman who I've actively avoided because she was both unattractive to me and frankly her personality gave me anxiety. Other than that I've basically never received any kind of positive attention from women my own age. Women in their forties and fifties absolutely love me, but probably because I remind them of their children, lol. If only I could find someone actually my own age.

Damn, sorry for how long it took to answer this. I started to write a response and saved it in my drafts but then it fell off my radar because of some real life stuff, and I don't dig back into my drafts as often as I maybe should. Let me add a break then see if I can offer any advice.

I'm going to start with the part that's going to suck the most to read, and I apologize for this. Don't take it personally, cuz I'm not trying to insult you and some of this advice could be applied to myself, too.

The negatives you listed about yourself: Dropout, minimum wage, lives at home, not as fit as you'd like...Those are unfortunately probably the most common reasons for a woman to lose interest, especially when they're combined. I know you mentioned a lot of this is because you recently recovered from mental illness, but that kinda brings me to the next thing and what my big takeaway was:

I think you should be working on yourself, and not even for the sake of dating. I can relate to having some major stumbling blocks in your life and recovering from them later in your development than you'd like, but these things are important to address. Working on things like your career and your living situation will do wonders for your self-worth and conquering any lingering depression you might still be feeling. As an added bonus, and what will matter to you right now, is this is also the best way to attract a partner. Being the kind of person you'd want to be with will naturally make you more appealing.

I know that's a big ask, but I think you need to do it, both for your own good and for the sake of your future partner. HOW to do that is a bit out of scope for a relationship ask, but there's plenty of resources out there, depending on what you'd like to focus on improving first. One thing I will say now, though, is you're absolutely right about discarding what you learned about being a man (or a potential boyfriend) from feminists. When I was much younger I put too much stock in that thinking, too, and it made me both miserable and also a terrible boyfriend until I finally accepted the people that craft that theory don't have my best interests in mind and aren't actually interested in offering helpful advice, they just want everyone to be as miserable as they are.

When you do look to date, you might also want to relax certain restrictions, especially the gaming one. As a general rule I haven't met as many women into video games as guys, but more importantly, I think this is malleable. It's extremely common for people to take up their partner's hobbies once they start dating, and this is especially the case when it comes to something they're extremely passionate about. People are attracted to the passion of others, so when your partner sees how much this means to you, they're much, much more likely to take an interest themselves.

I know I didn't address every single point raised (like the difference in attraction from older vs younger women etc) but I'm not sure if my above advice would change whether of not you still need info on those things. I don't mean to be reductive, but I genuinely do think the best advice is to focus on improving yourself and I really do think that will make your dating life that much better. And even if you stay single forever for whatever reason, you'd still get the dividends from whatever you invest in yourself.

Sorry again for taking so long to get to this, I really hope you got something useful out of it!

#ask #anonymous #anon #real dating advice #long #longpost

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z0mbunny · 3 years

Note

do you have anything else to say on the “evil doctor” type of character being another support/healer legend?? just dump anything you have, I love hearing about possible legend ideas (specifically support since we really got nothing)

🥺🥺🥺GLADLY ANON OFC I WILL…….. i also already happen to have an evil doctor type character look at that …

evil doctor/engineer/cybernetics creator novocaine…… real name redacted, don’t ask about her medical degree. she’s a doctor who creates experimental cybernetic enhancements, which tend to injure and kill its users more than help them. novocaine worked as an underground doctor and cybernetics engineer for many years, improving her craft and managing to get by as best as possible.

novocaine is a little over seven feet tall and her entire body from the neck down is cybernetic (no fake skin or anything either, just fully exposed black and grey wiring). safe to say, she’s dedicated to her craft.

EDIT: novocaine is also one of the older legends! late forties, early fifties. i love older women and you all have to deal with it

novocaine joins the games for her own benefit, both to see how she can improve her own cyber body as well as gain a little extra cash to fund her projects. she doesn’t mind getting a little blood on her hands, she’s done it many times before. she has the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair.

as a healer, novocaine can obviously heal her team but also allow a sort of life steal. the more an enemy loses their health, the more they gain. as a quick note, i don’t actually play the game (LMAO) but i have seen this ability in many games and they seem to pull it off fine. it also goes to show how parasitic novocaine can be! symbolism

speaking of her parasitic tendencies, novocaine is very affably evil. she may rip out your organs with her cybernetic claws but she’ll have a big cheshire grin on her face as she does it. very confident, very smug. novocaine isn’t very easy to make angry, but once you do… it’s not fun :(

as for relationships with other legends, her and caustic don’t exactly get along—frenemies at best. she likes to poke fun at him and laughs when he gets irritated. novocaine wants to use pathfinder and revenant for parts; she compares revenant to a very angry small dog—intimidating to some, but not so much her. lifeline doesn’t approve of her unorthodox and unethical methods, novocaine sees her as a naive child and she sees wattson similarly. novocaine actually gets along with octane because she offers to give him cybernetic enhancements for his bionic legs, which would most definitely explode and kill him. mirage is absolutely intimidated and terrified of her. bloodhound doesn’t like her and neither does artur, and she’s actually a little sad the cool bird hates her :( doesn’t rly care abt bloodhound though lol

that’s all i have so far but! if i come up with more or want to add more, i definitely will

#apex legends #oc #ty anon!! i love you

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cafedanslanuit · 4 years

Text

Sweet Creature || Jumin x MC -Oneshot

sweet creature, wherever I go, you bring me home

genre; fluff. so much fluff.

summary; Jumin gets stuck in another country away from his wife. He’s been having trouble falling asleep, so MC decides to tell him a bedtime story. A simple request ends up making Jumin open up about a small insecurity he had over is wife and his best friend.

notes; I said Jumin is in Peru because the law is very strict here: flights are not allowed and we’re under mandatory quarantine. Also because the time difference was a nice touch for this lol. Oh! This idea came up while listening to this song, hence the title~

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

“Isn't it dangerous to travel these days? :(“

Jumin read that text over and over, as if, somehow, he could go back to the moment where he read it for the first time. He should have postponed his business travel, but due to his father giving him more responsibilities at C&R and himself thinking nothing wrong could happen, he was now trapped in Peru, kilometers away from his wife.

He turned around on his hotel bed, dreading the soft aroma of whatever detergent they used for the sheets. It wasn't unpleasant itself, but it wasn't the smell of your shampoo that always lingered on the pillowcases.

It had been more than fifty days already. All he wanted was to return home, but flights were prohibited and he had no way to return home to you. Jumin checked his dual clock on his phone and decided it was okay to call you. It should be 5pm in Korea. It went unanswered, making him furrow his eyebrows. Surely nothing bad had happened, since you were under lockdown as well.

He was letting his mind go to dangerous places when he received a call from you. He picked up, your face appearing on the screen with a smile.

"Sorry! I was at the bathroom. I thought you were already asleep, isn't it... like, 3 am there?" you asked, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Couldn't sleep" Jumin replied. He put his phone against a pillow, just where you would be lying if you were actually by his side. Picking the cue, you did the same, laying on the bed and looking at your husband through the screen.

"What's on your mind?" you asked.

"How long am I supposed to wait to be able to embrace my wife" he sighed.

"Probably a while more. When you come here, I think you'll have to go under quarantine yourself. Just in case" you answered, with a small pout. "I know it’s been already fifty-six days apart, and that those other forty when you get back aren't ideal for our first year as a married couple, but... we'll survive".

"You sound so collected. I thought I was supposed to be the businessman and you were the dedicated piano teacher" he teased. His smile grew as he watched you laugh.

"I may have learnt a thing or two from you. But honestly..." you let out a big sigh "I miss you too. Whenever anyone from the RFA checks on me I'm always sulking about how I can't see my husband".

Jumin's smile faded a little, watching you lose focus a little, your eyes lost somewhere in your bedroom.

"I'm sorry. I should have listened to you, I-- I thought it would be safe. Sorry for not being there for you".

"But you are" you assured him, your eyes on him again. "You are here for me. I'm in one of the safest buildings in town, there's plenty of food and I don't need to go outside for anything since you set up a delivery for me and Elizabeth be 3rd. You are still protecting me from so far away".

"We're missing so many celebrations. I was planning to take you out each month on our anniversary date for our first year as a married couple".

"I know, but you'll definitely be here for our anniversary! And we'll get to celebrate together, have a nice and romantic dinner at home and then fall asleep next to each other".

Jumin smiled at your promise of a future where he wouldn't sleep on a empty bed anymore. He had got used to sleeping next to you so quickly, he didn't understand how was he able to sleep alone for so long.

"I am worried about something, though" you admitted. Jumin immediately scrunched his face, concerned.

"What is it?"

"I'm worried it's 3 am there and you can't seem to fall asleep" you said, concerned.

"I miss you"

"I miss you too. How about I tell you a story?"

"A story?"

"You know, a bedtime story. Maybe it can help?" you offered, shifting on the bed.

"I've never listened to a bedtime story. Wouldn't it be rude to fall asleep while you're talking?"

"No" you chuckled "That's the point. Let me try, okay? I'm going to tell you the story about... Mia. Mia was a girl who loved playing the piano. She loved it so much, sometimes she would cancel plans with her friends to stay home and play. She studied at a Music School to be a teacher and got pretty good grades".

"The piano?" Jumin asked, with a small smile. He then closed his eyes.

"Yes, this new and exciting character loved the piano. Anyway, one day she decided to download an app she didn't know, thinking it was a game she could play while on the bus. There she met these incredible people who ended up being a big part in her life. Even if things got… complicated surrounding lost brothers and surprisingly, cults, everything worked out in the end. She ended up falling for one of them, you know?”

“I always thought you would fall for Jihyun” Jumin commented, his eyes still closed.

“What?” you shifted on the bed, supporting yourself on your elbow.

“Mia. I always thought she would fall for Jihyun because they're so alike” he opened his eyes and put a hand through his hair. “They are very emotionally intelligent and always want the best for everyone around them. Natural caretakers. And also inclined to an artistic career”

You stayed in silence for a minute, not knowing if your husband was trying to make a joke you couldn’t understand or if he was being serious. You took a deep breath before talking.

“Hmmm, she liked him, yes. Jihyun was kind but she saw him the same way she saw Hyun or any of the others. He was a friend she could trust and a friend who would easily understand her when she was having a problem”.

“But if he could understand what she was feeling with a glance why did she…”

“She felt protected” you interrupted him “and loved by everyone at the RFA. But there was this man, the oldest of them all, who at first seemed cold and detached, but soon revealed his true self. You won't believe this, but he would send tons of photos of his cat to Mia!" Jumin chuckled. "But it was a beautiful cat and he was a beautiful man, so Mia liked it. He was fun, even if it was in an unconventional way. He went through a rough time when his cat got lost, but thankfully Mis was there for him. She got to know him a lot more on those days. For example, she found out he had trouble dealing with his feelings”.

“Not like Jihyun”

You sighed. “You think he was jealous of Jihyun?”

“I think so, yes. At least because of how easy it was for him to show emotion to his old girlfriend. How it was easy for him to express himself”

“Mmmm... Well, Mia didn't think the same. See, some people say music is a language itself. So she learnt from a young age words are not only the only way to express oneself. And there are a lot of ways for that. Some people say they love you, some people bring you presents, others spend quality time with you… there are a lot of ways, seriously. So when this young, cat-loving man asked Mia to stay for longer at his apartment, she understood he meant he wasn't feeling okay and that her presence, somehow, was helping her deal with everything. So she stayed. And... if you insist on Jihyun, I don't think he and Mia would have made a good couple" you say, tapping your chin with your index finger. "I think whenever one of those would have had a discrepancy, the other one would have made a drama out of it. I think they were so alike they wouldn't have let the other one grow. But whenever Mia talked with this guy I’ve been telling you about, she would always learn a thing or two. She would see a problem from another perspective and actually understand it better. Also, let's face it: she was melting whenever those dark eyes landed on her. Boy, did she feel like a teenager whenever he said something kind to her! It was embarrassing honestly” you laughed, hiding your face with your hands.

“Like a teenager?” Jumin asked with a soft smile, raising his eyebrow.

“Yes! One of those days she stayed at his place, he asked her to dine together, so she went to ‘refresh herself’ to the bathroom, okay? Actually, she was having a meltdown, fixing her makeup the best she could and thinking about interesting topics she could talk about with him”.

“Really?”

“I'm not joking. Jumin, she would get up earlier than him, brush her teeth, comb her hair and lay on her bed again so she would look somewhat good when he came to see her in the morning. It was pathetic. That's how smitten she was with him. Thank God I've never acted that way" you scoffed. Both you and Jumin looked at each other and smiled. “Not a long time went by before she ended up marrying him, can you believe it?” you asked, feigning surprise. Jumin chuckled.

“Sounds unreal” he admitted.

“I know, right?” you asked, laughing softly. “But she did, she actually married this guy in a beautiful church surrounded by the people she loved. It was a wonderful day. She couldn’t believe she could love someone that much”.

You stayed silent for a while, just looking at each other's face, remembering just how much in love they had been from the moment they saw each other.

“I'm sorry my story didn't help you sleep” you apologized in a soft voice.

“I do feel more relaxed now. I'm going to try and get some sleep now” Jumin said, stretching his neck.

“Please call if you can't. I'm always here for you, Mr. Han.” you teased him with a grin.

“Thank you, Mrs. Han. Have a nice evening. Please remember how deeply grateful I am that you chose me” he said in a soft voice. You smiled and blew out a kiss for him.

“As I am. Goodnight, my love”

#mystic messenger #jumin han #mysme #mysme jumin #mystic messenger imagines #mysme jumin han #mm jumin

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lurkingleighbee · 3 years

Text

Thrawn Ascendancy: Greater Good Chapter 15 - Chapter 18

Chapter 15

Ar’alani gets to “Sunrise” and sees no lights or any signs of life, which scares her

a super circular asteroid just happens to be floating into view... hmmm....

checking all previous records of battles/visits to the planet to see if it was there

and it appears that it wasn’t

Ar’alani points out Thrawn would have noticed the asteroid, as “even in the middle of a battle, there’s very little that gets past him.”

Wutroow calls it a moon, which I think is a cute little callback to the Obi-Wan Kenobi quote from A New Hope

that’s no moon!

This exchange is great:

“Captain Lakinda, are you game to try something dangerous?” “As opposed to just being part of the Expansionary Defense Fleet,” Wutroow added.

Lakinda is a little bit intimidated, I think

I wish Lakinda had her own gal pal with her

Ar’alani and the enemy get into a back and forth argument about who has been asked by the refugees to help them out

While that is going on, Lakinda planned to decimate the asteroid (which is really a giant bomb with missiles attached) in a careful way

I write planned, because “without warning the entire asteroid exploded, hurling shards of stone outward in all directions

I want to feel excitement, but given that Ar’alani will survive all the way up to Thrawn: Treason and I don’t feel like Lakinda is going to get axed, it is difficult to muster up the feeling

Chapter 16

the Grayshrike takes some damage, and with “the view port blast shields automatically slammed shut,” so they have to reply on sensor and tactical displays

in the center of the asteroid’s internal framework “was the missile, its nose peeking out of the thick casing through the launcher.”

they are trying to destroy the entire thing before the launcher goes after the Vigilant or the Grayshrike

Thankfully its disabled

However, the Battle Dreadnought and the Vigilant are locked in battle

even though Ar’alani wanted Lakinda to bring the asteroid/launcher with her, Lakinda opted to go in assisting Ar’alani without it

Ar’alani gets into another sound of aggressive negotiations, both of them taunting the other

I know how to destroy you!!!

Nuh uh!

or more flowery: “Your statement lacks accuracy. It is I who knows how to destroy you.”

Just as Lakinda and Ar’alani are about to destroy the Battle Dreadnought when it decides to self-destruct

overall, a success but Lakinda tears herself down for not getting the launcher and thinks Thrawn would have found a way to have done it

compare yourself to Thrawn and you will always fall short

I feel like Thrawn would tell her to chin up and focus on her own talents and strengths, instead of tearing herself down for her weaknesses

MASSIVE SPOILERS HERE ON OUT

Memories VI

Haplif is still trying to push Yoponek to his intended goals, but he considers the young Chiss spineless

Shimkif decides to take matters into her own hands. AGAIN.

and employs straight up biological warfare against Yomie and makes her very ill

Shimkif also manages to figure out that Yomie “doesn’t want Yoponek to give up all his hopes and dreams for her. She wants him to be willing to give them up. Once she’s satisfied that he would do that for her, he can go charging on to fame and fortune on Celwis, and she’ll stand by smiling and being all proud of him.”

Having gotten to the end of the book, hell to the end of the chapter - I can ensure you this information means nothing in the long run

Because Yomie has figured out that Haplif is telepathic

So that leaves Haplif utilizing Option Three - killing her

Her body is left in the vast emptiness of the universe

Call this blaming the victim - but it seems like Yomie had suspicions from the start that Haplif and his crew (of fifty, that we never see btw) were iffy.

So why did you go along with complete strangers and really press on their hospitality as hard as you did?!

Still does not make her murder okay

And presumably, her boyfriend doesn’t care about her whereabouts (since he buys some cock and bull story right away), her parents do not check on her, and her friends don’t either

COMPLETELY USELESS CHARACTER!

Chapter 17

Lakuviv is just agog over the treasure Lakjiip “confirmed” for him

This trap is so obvious to everyone but to these two numbskulls

And this exchange would probably make Thrawn pull his own hair out:

“They said the metal has no particular value of its own. It’s the skill with which the artists turn it into jewelry that’s important.” Lakuviv shook his head. “Idiots.” Lakjiip shrugged. “In general, I suppose that’s mostly true of art. Give an artist a hundred Univers to spend on paint and a presentation board, and out pops a picture someone else will spend thousands for. It’s just in this specific case the whole thing is reversed.” “If you ask me, everything about the art world is just barely controlled anarchy.” Lakuviv said. Thrawn would be like:

Lakuviv and Lakjiip want to get this up the chain of command

Lakuviv invites the Patriel over for a chit-chat about a nyix mine that practically fell into his lap, with no strings attached, totally above board, no suspicions, nope, no ma’am

Yoponek points out that Lakuviv could pull emergency powers

backed into a corner of your own making?

emergency powers!

Had to read this a couple of times before I made sense of it, but if I have this summarized correctly:

if you declare a family emergency, you can bring back officers and warriors (I assume that means enlisted soldiers)

The rules are so convoluted

if you’re one of the Forty Families that used to be one of the Ruling Families AND have an under crewed family fleet, you are allowed (?) to call in the Chiss from that specific family for an “emergency”

This is so ripe for abuse

And this is kind of recent history

But it is so made up and so unnecessarily complicated

These are the chapters when the book really started to lose me

Yoponek has to be the one that explains this

Lakuviv or Lakjiip could have done this on their own - looked for an excuse to exploit the mines

Yoponek and Yomie are so useless

Chapter 18

So, Thrawn’s name is even known among farmers as that art guy

lol

This is this the convo between Lakphro and his cousin:

“...Senior Captain Thrawn has a reputation for knowing a lot about alien art and artworks.” “I’m happy for him. But I don’t need an art critic. I need a metals specialist.” “I know that’s what you asked for. Here’s the thing. I’m wondering if Thrawn might be able to tell us something else about the brooch, just as it is. Maybe something important.” “Like what?” “No idea,” Lakbulbup admitted. “But once we take it for testing, even a little bit apart, that chance is gone.” “I don’t know what he could possible see that we can’t,” Lakphro said. “It’s just a bunch of metal threads, and they’re woven together in a pattern. End of story.” “Like I said, I don’t know, either,” Lakbulbup said. “But I...” ... “Maybe,” Lakphro said. “But what if-” “But nothing,” Lakbulbup said firmly. “Trust me, Lakphro. I’ve heard stories about this Thrawn fellow, and I truly think it’s worth running the brooch past him.”

Lakuviv is irked that Patriel Lakooni points out the obvious - that this is clearly a scam

Yesss!!! Common sense!

Unfortunately, it does not get to prevail

even Lakuviv has the gut instinct to back down, but he pushes on ahead

He takes her hostage and uses Lakooni’s personal codes to call for an emergency

Lakinda gets the jewelry piece from Lakwurn (these names are starting to run together) and an hour before she leaves for space, she gets the “family emergency”

Lakinda is torn between family and duty

she decides to stay for the family emergency

she does forward the box to Thrawn

and she send the Grayshrike on ahead with Mid Captain Apros on it

Thurfian gets to listen to a long-ass presentation about this slightly suspicious “Universal Analysis Group” that I initially thought might be important later

but having read to the end of the book, I can tell you - that it is not

Thurfian manages to deal with the squabble in such a way that Speaker Thyklo (who are you again?) says he reminds her “a little of Syndic Thrass. He was also good at appearing to give people what they wanted while simultaneously doing what needed to be done.” “Really,” Thurfian said, feeling a stirring inside him. “I assume that’s a compliment. “Very much so,” Thyklo said with a smile. “Thrass wasn’t as skilled at it as you are, but he definitely had the talent. A terrible shame that we lost him.” “Yes. To Thrawn.” “Or to circumstances,” Thyklo said. “It’s easy to place blame, but it’s not always productive. Or always accurate.”

Also, rumors abound that the Speaker and at least two Patriels are looking to retire

Thurfian is thinking about moving on up

Instead of all this time with Haplif (and Yoponek and Yomie) - why not spend the memories sections on Thurfian and develop his character?!

Give me a good reason for why he hates Thrawn so much!!!

Like, Zahn is kind of telling me but I need more information as to why Thurfian is this obsessed over this one guy Me reading this book:

#thrawn #mitth'raw'nurodo #ar'alani #that's no moon #thrawn ascendancy #thrawn ascendancy: greater good #lakinda #thurfian #timothy zahn #book review #star wars #thrass

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ohshit-itsyagorl · 3 years

Text

Four Dipshits and a Michelle

Part 6

Y’all I’m getting tired of linking all the chapters every time I post an update, so I’m just going to link the first part and my masterlist.

Part 1, Writing Masterlist

Read the story here on AO3

Summary: Michelle never believed in soulmates. But what happens when she turns seventeen and gets her mark? What happens when she inevitably finds the person with the matching tattoo? And what is she supposed to do with Peter Parker. Her best friend in the whole world. Her crush. Someone she feels drawn to for some inexplicable reason.

Also, I know it’s been a long time since the last update (yikes). I actually update every Sunday night on AO3 and just haven't had the time to catch up, so if I ever go a long time without updating just check there first lol. Alright, here we go...

Michelle woke to the sound of a camera clicking and soft snickering. The sun made her head hurt, eyes blinking rapidly.

“I’m sending this to the group chat,” she heard Ned say from somewhere behind her. She yawned into Peter’s chest. Oh no—this was not happening right now. She turned her head to see Ned standing in the doorway, furiously typing away on his phone, grinning like an idiot.

“Ned,” she whined, “please don’t.”

“Too late. It’s already done.”

“Damn you, Ned. It’s too early for this shit,” Michelle complained, though she kept her voice quiet so as not to wake Peter sleeping behind her.

She carefully tried to shimmy out of his grip, successfully turning around to face the edge of the bed, but when she tried to scoot out of his arms she found she couldn’t.

Peter mumbled something and pulled her closer to his chest, arms banding around her waist—going under her shirt—as he buried his nose in the hair at the base of her neck.

MJ felt her cheeks redden as Ned tried and failed to hold in his laughter, letting out a loud cackle that effectively woke Peter up and simultaneously ruined MJ’s morning.

She turned her head and watched as he blinked the sunlight out of his eyes, then looked to Ned, who pointed at MJ, who wanted to sink into the ground and die just to escape the embarrassment she felt crawling like ants under her skin.

Peter looked down at her. He stared for a second—two; then he seemed to realize what he was doing—one hand wrapped around her waist while the other disappeared under her shirt, scraping across her ribs, dangerously close to the undersides of her breasts. “Oh my—oh my god,” he cried, quickly withdrawing his hands and sitting up. The sheet pooled around his waist, and MJ shivered as her eyes dropped to his chest. To that spider tattoo over his left nipple. Peter covered his face with his hands, tight muscles rippling with the movement. MJ bit her lip.

Click.

“Goddamnit, Ned!” Michelle screeched. She grabbed a pillow, soft sheets scraping against the calluses that covered her hands from drawing, and threw it at his head with all her strength.

Ned squawked in outrage. Then seemed to remember what he was doing. “Man, Betty and Cindy are never going to let you guys live this down,” Ned muttered, looking at his phone. “So embarrassing.”

Michelle stumbled out of the bed, grabbing her phone and bag on the way to the bathroom. She flipped them both off for good measure. She slammed the door and collapsed down onto the toilet. Pulling out her phone, she opened up her text messages.

Four dipshits and a Michelle:

Ned: Check it out!

Ned’s text was followed by a photo of Peter and her. She had her face pressed against his chest, his arms were banded around her sleeping form, and his nose was buried in her hair. The sheet had been kicked down to their waists, and Michelle blushed when she realized her shirt had ridden partway up her back. It did look rather incriminating, though it really wasn’t. She scrolled down.

Betty: WHAT THE FUCK?!?

Cindy: I FUCKING KNEW IT ERIJFNCNDLW

Then there was the other image. The one of Peter’s shirtless chest, abs on full display, hands covering his face. And there she was—obviously looking lower than his face, biting her lip, large t-shirt hanging off her left shoulder, clearly showing she wasn’t wearing a bra.

She opened the other group chat with incoming messages—the one with only Betty and Cindy.

Cindy: Well, this is a morning I will never forget

Betty: The way she was looking at him in that second photo, tho

Cindy: I KNOW! MJ with horny eyes is almost scarier than MJ with angry eyes.

Betty: Someone’s got the hoTS FOR PARKER!!!

Betty: MJ, have you locked yourself in the bathroom yet?

Michelle’s fingers flew furiously across her keyboard.

MJ: Those were NOT horny eyes.

There was a split second where the bubble icon popped up. Then it disappeared. Reappeared.

Cindy: They were definitely horny eyes. Betty?

Betty: I agree. The council has convened. Michelle Jones has a crush on the nerd next door.

Betty: Also, SINCE WHEN HAS PETER BEEN RIPPED???

Cindy: Yeah, when the fuck did that happen?

MJ: He’s had abs for a while.

Cindy: You’ve seen him shirtless before?

Betty: !!!

Cindy: Girl, you are so screwed.

MJ: Stop trying to kill me. I died, like, twenty minutes ago.

Betty: But you LOOOOVE him

Michelle shut off her phone at that. One minute. She would allow one minute of embarrassment, then move on.

She leaned her head back against the wall and groaned, trying to use the cool tile to calm her racing mind. Her eyes fluttered shut, slowly counting down from sixty. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight.

The way Peter had reacted, like he was uncomfortable waking up with her. She had been uncomfortable, too, but that was because of Ned. What if Peter was uncomfortable because of her?

Forty-five.

Her skin still felt like it was on fire, mark tingling pleasantly in a way that sent shivers down her spine. She cursed quietly.

Thirty. Twenty-nine.

And maybe the unrequited love was starting to drive her crazy, but she could have sworn he had been breathing her in—he had been asleep, of course, but…

Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve.

Her whole body cried out at her to tell him, to be with him, to make him feel good—body and soul.

Seven.

But she couldn’t.

Three.

Silence. Resignation. Determination.

One. Zero.

MJ stood up and shucked off her t-shirt and Peter’s boxers, nearly tripping in the tight confines of the bathroom. And maybe she was being selfish, but she shoved the boxers into her bag along with her shirt. Peter wouldn’t miss one pair. But wearing his clothes… it just felt so right, and she decided that after this morning, she would allow herself that small satisfaction. She put her hair up into a ponytail and looked at herself in the mirror. Then, before she could think better, she reached out a finger and touched her tattoo. Hissed. It was so sensitive—so sensitive after a night spent curled up with him. She could feel her heart beating quickly in her ears, but she could also feel the pulsing rhythm of a slower heartbeat; Peter, it seemed, had calmed down more than she had.

She put her clothes on and marched out of the bathroom. “Not a word from you,” she snapped at Ned as she stalked past. Peter had already put on a shirt and shorts, thankfully. She didn’t think she would be able to keep her eyes off that spider tattoo and then Peter might start to get suspicious.

Michelle turned to look at them. “So… the park and then lunch at Delmar’s?” She asked.

“Sounds good to me,” Peter replied, running a hand through his hair. Michelle looked away quickly, lest her eyes track the movement.

Ned noticed, though. He smirked. “Shut up,” MJ quipped.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You said nothing very loudly,” MJ grumbled. Ned just grinned at her. She flipped him off.

————————————————————————

By late August, the heat had become pretty much unbearable, the little air-conditioning units used in the cramped New York apartments no match for the sweltering summer.

Which is why Michelle found herself reading on the fire escape with a fold-out chair, trying and failing to cool down, sweating buckets and hating mother earth.

She turned the page. A small breeze swept through the alley and caught her bookmark. She reached out blindly to catch it before it flew out of reach of the fire escape. Just as she caught it, upper body leaning over the railing, sweat plastering her hair to her forehead, she felt hands come to steady her waist.

MJ screeched and whipped around, punching her attacker straight in the face.

Spider-man stumbled backward, hand reaching up to cup his masked jaw, and cried, “What the hell was that for?” His voice was clearly being altered by mask. Another way to protect his identity, she guessed.

Michelle shook out her wrist. “You touched me.”

Spider-man’s eyes widened. He reached his hand up as if to run it through his hair, but he was wearing a mask. “I was trying to help!” He said indignantly, bringing his arm back down and crossing them both over his chest. “I thought you were going to fall.”

“I wasn’t even off balance,” MJ quipped. She reached to push some stray curls off her sweaty forehead, then eyed his suit. “Shouldn’t you be dying in that thing? It’s, like, over a hundred degrees out today.”

“Built-in cooling technology,” he said, leaning against the railing. Michelle rolled her eyes; she supposed he thought it looked cool. It did, but that was beside the point.

“Lucky you,” she snarked. “I’d kill for that on a day like today.” She motioned to her sweaty face.

“The sweat suites you, darling,” he said, white eyes shifting down her body.

Michelle’s face reddened. “Oh my god, that’s disgusting. You could be forty—and if you touch me again, I swear—”

Spider-man’s eyes widened in shock. “No—I’m not forty! I’m a boy—I mean—young man!”

Michelle raised her eyebrows. “How old are you, exactly?” She asked. She waited a moment. “If you don’t answer I’m going to assume you’re older than thirty, which is still creepy, by the way.”

“I’m not, okay?” He said. She waited. “…I’m seventeen.”

MJ furrowed her brows at that. She was seventeen. She could know him. “Okay,” she said.

“You believe me?”

“Do I have a reason not to?” She arched a brow at him, a small smile tugging on the corners of her lips.

He shook his head furiously. “All I’m trying to say is you’re still really pretty, even with all the…perspiration.”

She looked at him more closely; something about him seemed familiar, the way he talked, or the way he held himself—maybe she really did know him from school. “Thanks, I guess. You’re not too bad yourself for a teenager wearing a spandex unitard.”

His hand slipped from the railing, and he stumbled to keep his footing. MJ’s shoulders shook with repressed laughter as she watched him, forgetting for a moment how hot out it was. “It’s not spandex!”

Michelle reached out and touched his arm. He froze. She chuckled. “It sure feels like spandex.”

“Well, it’s not,” he said a bit defensively. He nodded to her book. “What are you reading?”

“A Secret History by,” she checked the cover, “Donna Tartt.”

He nodded. “Is it any good?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Yeah, I’ve actually read it before, though. I ran out of new books and I’m too lazy to go to the library so I just picked up an old one.” She shrugged.

“Maybe I’ll go get it after the superhero gig tonight,” he said. She held out the book to him. He just looked at her, then at the book. “What?”

She rolled her eyes. “I was offering for you to borrow it, dipshit.”

His eyes widened again—it was actually a little creepy how they dilated; like, how did they know when to dilate? “Really?” He squeaked, reaching out to grab the book.

She pulled her hand back. “You’re not a serial killer, are you?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“What? No, I’m a superhero,” he said, still holding his hand out. “Why is that part of the vetting process for borrowing one of your books?” He made little grabby motions with his fingers.

“I feel like being a serial killer goes hand-in-hand with ruining borrowed books,” she said, narrowing her eyes. She handed him the book. “But if you damage it, I’ll kill you—friendly neighborhood Spider-man my ass.”

“Who’s the killer now?” He joked. Then he tilted his head to the side. “Well, I’ve got to go. Duty calls!” He reached his arm out and shot a web, swinging off the balcony with the book in his other hand.

“Don’t you dare drop it!” She called after his retreating form. She shook her head, not sure why she was smiling.

———————————————————

Michelle saw Spider-man again two days later. She was out reading on the fire escape again when he landed with a soft thud. She didn’t look up right away, determined to finish one last page.

He cleared his throat.

“I know you’re there,” she said.

“Oh.”

MJ let out a hum, reaching blindly for her bookmark and slipping it between the pages of her book. She looked up at him. “What do you want, Spider-pig?” She smiled to herself at her inside joke, remembering that day in biology with Peter.

He held her copy of A Secret History out to her. “I finished. It was really good—I can see why you enjoyed it.” She took the book from his hands, peering at him from her chair. His eyes narrowed at her.

“What do you want? I can tell you want something,” she deadpanned.

“What should I call you?” He hopped up onto the railing. Her eyes widened a fraction watching him. He chuckled, “I’m not going to fall. Spider-man, remember?” He mimed shooting webs out of his wrists in rapid succession.

“You can call me Michelle.”

“Really? Your friends call you Michelle?” He swung his feet back and forth, leaning back over the railing so his body hung precariously over the alleyway below to grab a piece of garbage floating in the breeze.

“No. I have a nickname, but you can call me Michelle.” She didn’t just let anybody call her M or MJ, and just because he could swing around the city on wisps of silk didn’t mean he deserved special treatment from her.

He huffed a breath. “Fair enough. You look nice today. How have you been?”

Wow, that was a lot to unpack. She looked nice? She was wearing a ratty old painting shirt that hung below her knees and her hair was up in a topknot. How had she been? Well—

She decided to ignore the first comment. “I’ve been fine. I painted today so now my back hurts, but beauty is pain, right?” She said, gesturing to her paint-stained t-shirt.

“You have paint on your face,” was his only reply. He leaned forward, reaching his hand out toward her cheek, “Here, let me.” He brushed his finger over where she assumed the paint was, but then his eyes narrowed and he ran a finger over the spot again.

“It won’t come off, Idiot. It’s dry.” She smirked at him as he withdrew his hand.

“You didn’t punch me,” he breathed.

She raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t. Don’t get too comfortable, though—I might be in a bad mood next time you try to pull shit like that.” She mimed a quick sucker punch, then blew on her fist as if to cool it off.

Spider-man laughed at her antics. “You could give most common criminals a run for their money, you know.”

She shrugged, looking down at her hands. The paint under her fingernails seemed way more interesting than it had earlier that day when she had opted not to spend twenty minutes cleaning it out. “I learned from experience. My dad—” She stopped herself before she could say anything more. That was too much information; information she hadn’t even told her best friends, that she definitely did not want to tell an almost-stranger.

She was saved by a ding coming from next to her on the chair. She picked up her phone.

Four dipshits and a Michelle:

Ned: Has anyone seen Peter? We were supposed to meet to build the millennium falcon.

MJ snorted. She quickly typed out a reply.

MJ: Nope. He probably stayed late at the stupid Stark internship.

MJ: Also, you’re both total dweebs.

She looked up to see that Spider-man wasn’t sitting on the railing anymore. She almost had a heart-attack when she heard a voice right next to her ear. “Peter… Peter Parker?”

She squawked, turning around to see him upside down in an army-crawl position on the wall behind her. “Never,” she panted, “do that again.” Then his words registered. “Wait, you really know him?”

Spider-man propped his head up on his elbows. “Yeah, I know him—from the, uh, the Stark internship—which, by the way, is not stupid.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “It’s rude to read someone else’s messages.”

“Well, I got to go,” he said suddenly. “I have somewhere I need to be.” He shot a web to the roof of the building next to hers and launched himself off the fire escape, disappearing as quickly as he’d come. Michelle looked down at the book in her lap. “Hey!” She looked up to see a red and white mask peering at her from above. “What book are you reading?!”

“The Assistant by Bernard Malamud!” She called back.

He gave her a thumbs up and disappeared again.

She waited, but he didn’t come back a second time.

Part 7

#peter parker #Peter Parker fanfiction #peter x michelle #Peter Parker soulmate #michelle jones #soulmate #soulmarks #Smut #eventual smut #fluff #angst #spideychelle #best friends #spiderman

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birbleafs · 4 years

Text

[fic] It’s A Matter Of (In)Convenience

Series: Saiki Kusuo no Ψ-nan || The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. Rating: T Genre: Humour, Breaking The Fourth Wall Character(s): Saiki Kusuo, Aiura Mikoto, Toritsuka Reita, Kaidou Shun, Kuboyasu Aren, Nendou Riki, Yumehara Chiyo, Teruhashi Kokomi Warnings: None, save for canon-typical shenanigans Summary: Saiki Kusuo’s plan for a quiet Sunday spent shopping for desserts in an ordinary konbini is thrown into disarray when he runs into several… inconveniences, much to his dismay. A/N: I've been re-reading/re-watching Saiki K. during this quarantine period and I haven't laughed this hard since I was into Gintama. This series has given me so much ridiculous joy, it’s great for helping keep anxiety and existential despair at bay lol. Fic can also be read on AO3

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Saiki Kusuo could not say he dislikes commuting by public train but he’s not particularly a fan of it either. After all, it’s exceedingly more troublesome and vexing for someone like him, encumbered with psychic abilities beyond human comprehension. He’s unable to switch off his telepathy at will, so it’s no small feat being stuck in a packed cabin and trying to filter out the cacophonous thoughts of fifty-odd passengers buzzing incessantly in his mind throughout the long ride to the next town. Distance isn’t an issue today, however. Not that it had ever been an issue, mind you—he could teleport to almost any location he so wished. But Kusuo had long since mastered inconspicuousness into an art form, and teleporting to his destination and appearing seemingly out of thin air in the middle of a packed convenience store was sure to draw unwanted attention to himself. No, it’s not worth the risk, even for such a coveted goal at the end of his journey. Besides, Kusuo is a man of principle, one who does not easily succumb to using his powers for self-interest. He will do this the ordinary, pedestrian way.

In any case, travelling out of Hidariwakibara-chō to neighbouring Tonari Machi on a random Sunday morning would also mean the chances of him running into certain... inconveniences are very nearly zero. Forty-five minutes and twelve stops later, Kusuo beams in quiet triumph as he walks past the automatic sliding doors and into the aforementioned convenience store, barely registering the musical jiggle over the speakers. He steps through the sparse crowd, pausing midway through the snack and desserts aisle when he finally catches sight of the neat row of orange boxes with silver trimmings on the top shelf. Kusuo allows himself a tiny grin as he reaches for a box, eyes bright with anticipation as he gazes upon its wondrous contents—three cups of chocolate brownie and cherry parfait, infused with coffee jelly and topped with dollops of luscious cream and cinnamon sprinkles. A simple but unmatched delicacy right here in this nondescript konbini, he thinks, savouring the glorious moment a little longer. Still, as fate would have it, he would be reminded in less than ten seconds that his life is but an unfortunate series of daily disasters, and his current reprieve short-lived. And it comes in the form of a young woman who had waltzed through the crowd and is now latching onto his arm with garishly pink manicured nails, her wavy blonde hair already casting a dark cloud over Kusuo’s face. Aiura Mikoto, resident soothsayer and trendsetter gal. Inconvenience No. 1. Ah. So it begins. “Wassup, Kusuo!” Aiura chirps a little too brightly. Already two or three mob characters in the konbini are throwing scandalized looks their way, but to Aiura they’re nothing but background scenery and lazily drawn silhouettes. “Who woulda thunk we’d meet here like this? It must totes be our destiny as soul mates, fer sure!” Isn’t it more because someone is totes a stalker? Kusuo deadpans telepathically her way, even as he makes no real attempt to avoid Aiura’s smothering embrace. Instead, he fixes her with a stare as blank as stone canvas. This is an invasion of privacy. Also, what’s with the meta observation in the previous paragraph? Stop messing with the readers like that. “Man, you sure are a ray of sunshine sometimes,” Aiura pouts, before she breaks into a giggle and relents. She unlatches herself from him, putting some distance between them. “Anyway, can’t your BFF like, just accidentally bump into you while shopping for the same box of snacks you no doubt travelled all the way out here for?” So you admit you really are a stalker then, Kusuo counters drily, only to frown again at the sudden creeping presence of another aura. He feels the weight of another arm draping carelessly over his shoulder, followed by the brusque yapping of an over-eager and desperate hot-blooded young male in his ears. “Yooo, Saiki-san! What a coincidence!” Toritsuka Reita, the spirit medium and an exemplary specimen of the most depraved life-form, the lecherous scum. Also known as Inconvenience No. 2. Saiki Kusuo, a man most unfortunate, lets out a weary sigh. “I see you’ve got that accusatory glare painted all over your face.” Toritsuka wags an annoying finger before Kusuo. “Now, now. Before you also accuse me of stalking, Mister Doom and Gloom, let me just say that I’m only here for one thing.” He flicks a furtive glance towards a discreet corner of the magazine section. The shelves are filled with magazines wrapped in plastic, large R-18 stickers plastered across the covers and over the spines much like indecent warning signs. Toritsuka dabs towards the third shelf, waving a mini poster at both Kusuo and Aiura, and this sentence then abruptly proceeds to describe the close-up of said poster—a particularly titillating centre spread featuring a curvaceous model’s skimpily clad... assets. “Surely there’s no better reason to be here now than for the special compilation of EROmag’s Greatest Upskirts And Panty-shots Of The Month!” Toritsuka exclaims, echoing the thoughts of all resident perverts. “Ugh, grody to the max,” Aiura says, lips curled in utter revulsion. For once, the stars are aligned and Kusuo finds himself wholeheartedly agreeing with her sentiment. Before he can get a retort in edgewise however, he’s unceremoniously tugged closer into Toritsuka’s one-armed embrace, who then proceeds to thump a hand over Kusuo’s chest in a grand show of obnoxious male posturing and solidarity. “You women will never understand,” Toritsuka counters with an ingratiating smirk. “But Saiki-san and I, we’re bosom buddies, connoisseurs of refined aesthetics. Together, we’ll finally gaze upon those heavenly lace panti—A-ACKK!!” He hacks up a lung just as Kusuo nonchalantly drives a sharp elbow right into his solar plexus, causing him to stagger backwards onto the floor. Bosom buddies? Kusuo echoes ominously, glaring daggers at the pathetic writhing form before him. Pretty sure that ridiculous thump you just pulled is both an outrage and insult of my modesty. Hey, can I call the police? I’m calling the police. Aiura nods at that, lips curved into a Cheshire grin and looking extremely pleased with herself as though she’s the one to suggest calling the cops. “Delusional sleazebags should just crawl back into the garbage bin where they belong. Like the skeevy trash panda that they are, right Kusuo?” “Who are you calling delusional, huh?!” Toritsuka snaps, jumping back to his feet. “I’ll have you know that Saiki-san and I have been nothing but the most loyal, the tightest of all bosom buddies—” Refer to me as your bosom buddy again and I’ll crush your windpipe, Kusuo interjects without missing a beat, and the EROmag poster in Toritsuka’s hand spontaneously combusts into flames. “Argh, not the panties!!” Toritsuka yelps, watching in despair as the poster shrivels up in the blaze, only to catch sight of the eerie, voidless depths of Kusuo’s inscrutable gaze. The spirit medium pales at the split-second reminder of his fleeting mortality, sweat dripping down his nape as he carefully backs away from the precarious jaws of death. “B-B-Bros! I-I meant that we’re the best kind of bro-some buddies, ahahaha! T-That is to say, brotherly and wholesome—R-right, Saiki-san? So don’t get all conceited just because you’ve got big knockers, Tits McGee!!” “Pfft, brotherly and wholesome? As if!” Aiura scoffs, unimpressed. “You’re about as wholesome as your d*ck aura and a college frat boy’s porno stash. Just admit you ain’t nothing but a tiresome anime trope!” “Look who’s talking, Miss Fanservice. This is a wholesome shounen series, so how about you take those bazongas back to Hooters where they belong!” “Haaah? You looking for a fight, you raunchy racoon?!” “Bring it on then!” Kusuo scowls at the petty squabbling, exasperated at how easily his quiet Sunday was already going awry, much like the metaphorical train wreck poised for a manic spiral off its rails. He decides to take his leave then from the two inconveniences bickering loudly, making his way towards the self-checkout station near the entrance. He pays for his items, stealthily packing them away with a subtle flick of his psychokinesis, and is only a few paces away from complete freedom at last when the generic musical jingle blares from the speakers overhead. “♪~Welcome to F☆mily Mart Konbini, We Guarantee 99.9% Shopping Satisfaction! It’s A Matter of Convenience~! ♪” Kusuo frowns at the jingle. Why is it only 99.9% satisfaction? And really, a matter of convenience? Not when he’d already run into two inconveniences in a row and all in a convenience store. Is God conspiring with the universe and pulling a sick prank on him right now? What a horrible sense of humour. The automatic doors at the entrance slide wide open then, and in saunter three terribly familiar faces—Kaidou Shun, Kuboyasu Aren, and Nendou Riki. Inconvenience No. 3, No. 4, and No. 5 respectively. “What did I tell you, Aren? Not only did we manage to beat traffic, but this unexpected change in my Sunday routine would’ve thrown a wrench into Dark Reunion’s plans of attempted kidnapping. Too bad I, The Jet-Black Wing, am always several steps ahead. Heh.” “Uhmm, yeah I guess… Hey, Shun, look! There isn’t a queue for the limited edition Ginta-Man figurine raffle tickets here at all. Good thing you insisted we meet at the crack of dawn—Tch, Nendou, don’t dawdle around and block the entrance like that! What’re you looking at anyway?” “Oh? I thought I saw my pal just a few seconds ago...” “Huh, Saiki’s here too-?! Oh, you mean that. Don’t be daft, Nendou, that’s just a cardboard cut-out of that kiddie hero show, Cyborg Cider-man Mark II.” Seriously?? Kusuo curses irritably as he dives inconspicuously out of sight from the passing trio, right into the bath and shampoo aisle. It’s just been a series of inconveniences one after another this morning, the metaphorical train wreck already hurtling itself past the edge of no return. Good grief, what a pain. May as well have the rest of the cast show up next— Another cheesy musical jingle, another swoosh of the sliding doors, and— “Waahh, it’s really you, Kaidou-kun!” “Hello, what a nice surprise to run into everyone here.” “Oh, hey there, Yumehara and... Offu~! T-T-Teruhashi-san?!” Saiki Kusuo, ever the suffering protagonist, drags a hand over his face. See? God hates him. Two aisles over, he can still hear Aiura and Toritsuka’s voices drifting over: “Man, I’m sick of looking at your pervy mug. C’mon, Kusuo, let’s ditch this loser—Huh, where did you run off to, Kusuo?!” “Your petty squawking has given us all an earache and must’ve driven Saiki-san off as well!” Oi, oi, Kusuo flinches inwardly, seized by a helpless fear of watching his quiet Sunday careening off the cliff and further away from his grasp. Quit yelling out my name like that and throwing me to the wolves already! Too late. At the mention of Kusuo’s name, Nendou cranes his neck 270 degrees Exorcist-style like a hideously monstrous owl and rushes over to Toritsuka’s side. “Oh! Did you just say my pal is here?!” he exclaims happily, shaking Toritsuka by the shoulders like a dog shaking an unfortunate chew toy. “I knew I’d seen him when we walked in earlier!” Not to be outdone by Nendou, Teruhashi also leaps forward before Aiura with none of her previous composure, her unblemished, porcelain visage now dusted with a hint of rose, a conflicted mix of perplexity and (envious) shock pooling in her angelic eyes. “D-Did you say ‘Saiki’?! H-Hey, Aiura-san, you did say ‘Saiki’ and not actually ‘Kusuo’, right? M-My, I must have misheard things, right? R-Right?!” “What the heck is going on? Is Saiki really here?” Anxious, Kusuo grits his teeth at the growing clamour as his friends converge from all corners of the store towards the aisle where he’d been forced to hide. Guess there’s no avoiding it after all, he frets despairingly, and in less than a nanosecond, teleports unnoticed from the konbini to an empty street outside. Kusuo sighs, relieved to have finally escaped. Minor inconveniences aside, perhaps a quiet Sunday spent savouring chocolate brownie and cherry parfait in the comfort of his home isn’t beyond his reach yet. What? Didn’t he just use his powers for self-interest to teleport out of a sticky situation? Foolish readers, that was for self-preservation and completely acceptable, of course. He holds his shopping bag close, pleased that he’d managed to avoid a disaster, and begins to walk down the street—only to freeze mid-step when he feels a sudden splitting headache jolt through him… A flash of images appears: Aiura and Toritsuka crouching in fear together, Kuboyasu bracing his bleeding arm, Kaidou screaming shrilly as he shields Yumehara and Teruhashi from a masked man brandishing a gun, Nendou digging his nose with his pinky—That’s just disgusting, no one wants to see that, stop it!! The vision finally ends, and Kusuo lifts a hand to his face, massaging his temple to clear the precognitive fog from his mind. An armed robbery, huh. He lets out another resigned sigh. Good grief—What a pain, Saiki ‘I-don’t-(but I actually really do)-care-about-my-friends’ Kusuo mutters internally in annoyance, even as he yeets himself head-first into other people’s business and right back into the convenience store to stop a future robbery. Still he smiles, eyes soft with perhaps the slightest flicker of affection for this dysfunctional bunch of people in his disastrous life. Someone has to protect them and save the day, after all.

–End–

#saiki kusuo no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki kusuo #aiura mikoto #toritsuka reita #fanfic #too lazy to tag all the characters here #this show's over the top ridiculousness and crack is 10/10 my type of comedy #i love it lol

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