#or when he was eating that pizza and slurping the cheese

[bookshelf-dust]

really know him

part i part ii part iii part iv

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3,987

warnings: swearing, slight sexual innuendos, mentions of past trauma, reader has tough relationship with parents, fluff (let me know if i missed anything)

a/n: hi!! yeah, yeah, it’s been an entire month since you got the first part of this and i’m sorry, i swear!! but school has been kicking the shit out of me. anyways, i’m happy with this, and i think it’s given this story a good sort of push in the right direction. there is one line that is hopper’s dialogue that you might catch. i hope you like it!!! love you and happy reading <333

“You see things, and you understand. You’re a wallflower.”

————

Eddie’s mouth is full when Wayne speaks. The food hasn’t even cooled off enough for anyone normal to eat it, but Eddie doesn’t care. He’s so fucking hungry. He swears he feels like this—like he’s never eaten before—at least once a day. 

“How long you and Y/N been seein’ each other?” Wayne’s got his arms crossed on the tabletop, letting his dinner cool some while his nephew allows noodles and cheese to burn the shit out of the roof of his mouth. 

Eddie knows it’s just Hamburger Helper but it’s so fucking good. He swallows, and takes a sip of his drink before he responds. 

Eddie’s leg starts to bounce and Wayne gently kicks his calf to get him to quit and take a breather. It works, like it always does. 

“How do you know her name? And we aren’t seeing each other. We’re friends.” He shoves more noodles in his mouth and chews for a minute while he thinks. Wayne just watches him, the beginnings of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. 

“Well, acquaintances, I guess.”

Wayne snorts. “I don’t think you have acquaintances at twenty, Ed.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and stabs his fork into the center of his bowl. He wipes his hands and moves his hair from where it’s slipped over his shoulders. 

His hair is wet. 

Ever since Eddie was a kid, a little while after Wayne got him, he’s tried to take his shower while Wayne fixes dinner with the goal of being finished by the time the food is on the table. He did that very same thing today. 

He does it even when they get takeout and tries to shower in the time Wayne is gone. He does it in the time it takes his frozen pizza to cook when he has to eat alone because Hellfire runs past the time Wayne leaves for work. 

Selfishly, Wayne hopes Eddie keeps this up. It makes him happy to see that childlike attitude run rampant. 

“I know her name because she’s lived here since her parents had her. I know everybody in this godforsaken park.”

Eddie takes a sip of his Dr. Pepper, slurping it obnoxiously. “Pulling the old and wise thing, huh?”

Wayne reaches the slim distance across the tiny table and wacks Eddie on the head, though it’s absolutely void of malice. “Ow!” Eddie exclaims as if he’s been brutally beaten. 

“And we aren’t seeing each other. I haven’t talked to her since before she graduated, actually. I just saw her the other night and we’ve just been…” Eddie gestures with his hands, flailing for a word or anything to describe what’s happening between you and him. 

You’re not friends. Right? 

And you’re definitely not anything more, but it’s not like Eddie would mind that. Being more. He’s sort of always had a thing for you. He’s never told anyone that. 

Maybe it had been a little subdued, but seeing you the other night had it rushing back, a wave crashing over and toppling him. 

Eddie’s been kind of worried about you since, actually. You didn’t want to talk about why you were upset, and he respected that, but he still wanted to know. He really didn’t like seeing you that way, and he wants to fix it, but he can’t if you don’t let him in. 

“Hanging out,” Eddie finally finishes, dropping his hands. 

Wayne takes the last few bites of his dinner and looks at his nephew. It’s not hard for Wayne to see that his boy feels something for you. Not with the blush spreading across Eddie’s cheeks. 

It’s like when Eddie was young and he’d ride his bike through the trailer park, or to a friend's house and he’d come back flushed. He looks out of breath. But he’s feeling this way because of you. 

Wayne thinks that’s pretty damn special. He thinks there’s something in you that’s opening up a part of Eddie he’s never seen before. Like you’re cracking open his boyish soul.

“Hanging out?”

Eddie chugs the rest of his Dr. Pepper, pretending like he’s not being interrogated. He gets up and pulls another from the fridge, setting the other by the sink where he can rinse it out later. 

He spoons more food into his bowl. They’re definitely not going to have leftovers.

“Yes, Wayne.”

“Does it still count as hanging out if you haven’t even gone out?” 

“Jesus H. Christ, we’re friends okay?”

Wayne laughs. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite sounds in the world, but he’s never told his uncle that. 

Wayne stands, taking his dishes to the sink to wash. He rinses out Eddie’s can and tosses it in the recycling bin.

“Hey, I was gonna do that!” Eddie whines.

“No you weren’t, Ed. But anyways, your friend can come over anytime she likes.”

Eddie drops his forehead against the countertop, face burning. He’s supposed to be too old for this shit.

————

Your parents aren’t home. In fact, they’re gone for the weekend, which means you’re alone. It means that the trailer is quiet and you don’t have to lock yourself in your bedroom or storm outside and cry on a rickety picnic table. 

You’re taking advantage of the free couch when you hear the mailman outside. You hop up, knowing that if you don’t collect all of the mail you’ll hear about it. But this also gives you your chance to be nosy and see what kinds of things your parents are being sent. 

You hop down the steps, wishing you’d put on a jacket because it’s a lot chillier than you’d expected. You meander down the road a little ways to the row of mailboxes containing yours. 

You’re nose deep, retrieving the newspaper and a small stack of what you’re sure is mostly junk, when a car door slams and makes you jump. 

You use your elbow to close the mailbox door, and when you spin around you’re met with a cheesy grin and a mess of curls belonging to one Eddie Munson. 

“Jesus Christ,” you smile, “Hi, Eddie.”

He grins, spinning his key ring around his index finger. “Hey. How are we this afternoon, m’lady?”

“Okay. Just get done with school, buddy?”

“Oh fuck you,” Eddie laughs. It makes you grin and Eddie thinks he’s swooning. Like, big time. 

Your eyes crinkle and these sweet lines form around your mouth. You’re so pretty. So pretty, he thinks. 

“But yeah.” Eddie scratches his nose like he wants to say more but he needs a second before he goes for it. “Passed a quiz today and everything,” he finishes. 

He doesn’t usually talk about his academic-related endeavors with anyone, but he’s got this feeling that you’ll be supportive. You’ve never once looked at him like he was stupid, or didn’t deserve your time. 

One day towards the end of your first and only senior year, the both of you sat in the back of the class, your nose buried in a book, and Eddie had placed a finger against the page to get your attention. He’d said he wasn’t graduating, and you didn’t judge him. Maybe that’s why he’s always had this thing for you. Because you don’t think he’s this piece of shit freak.

Your grin gets bigger. It’s so much better than the sad way you looked at him the other night.

“Oh yeah? That’s so good! I’m proud of you, Eddie.”

Eddie blushes. You see it. He feels it. There’s no going around this and suddenly he’s afraid you’ll point it out. 

You don’t. You just tuck that little bit of information—that Eddie seems fond of praise—away for another time. 

A letter slips from your hand but Eddie is quick to catch it, before it even hits the ground. 

“Sorry,” you say.

“It’s okay.” He slides it in between two other pieces of mail from the stack tucked in the crook of your arm. 

The both of you stand there awkwardly then, you not knowing what to do next, Eddie realizing he didn’t really have a plan for what he was going to say when he came over here. 

You turn a little, like you’re going to walk back towards your home, and Eddie freaks out inside. He doesn’t want you to go. Again. Dammit. He’s totally done for. And even Wayne had seen it, hadn’t he? Fuck. 

You decide to go for it. “Do you wanna come inside for a while? I mean, of course you don’t have to, at all, but you know, if you wanted to…shit, I don’t know,” you falter. “I guess I just thought, since you’re here—”

“Sure. I mean, as long as you’re sure, but yeah,” he drags a hand over his face, lashes leaving shadows on the skin under his eyes, to hide the fact that he’s gone shy at your offer. “Yeah, I want to.”

The words hanging out flash through his mind and Eddie has the sudden urge to bang his head against a wall. 

You take that as your queue, walking towards and then up your porch steps. “I’m assuming you’re following me,” you say, pulling the screen door open. 

Eddie was not, in fact, following you, too off in his own world. He clambers up behind you, holding the door open above your head while you push your way inside. He pulls it shut after he steps up, watching you toss the mail on the counter and move around your home. 

There’s something interesting to him about watching you like this. Where you look calm. 

You flop down on the couch, patting the cushion beside you. Eddie follows your flop with an even more aggressive one, leather and chain making quite the noise as his weight settles into the sofa. 

Eddie notices how quiet it is, and he can’t stand that. His brain doesn’t allow quiet. 

“Your parents at work or something?” He inquires. 

You move so that your back is to the arm of the couch and you’re now facing the boy you’ve just let in, pulling your legs up underneath you. 

“They’re out for the weekend. Visiting in laws or something like that. I said I had too much homework to do so I could get out of it, which is true, I do have homework, I just didn’t want to go.”

Eddie shifts to mirror your position, lanky limbs splaying out a little less gracefully. He’s smiling at you again. It starts small, a slow grin spreading across his face. 

“What are you smiling for, dumbass?”

He tosses his head back and your gaze falls to his neck for just a second. Though a second long enough for you to think about what it would feel like against your fingers—

He looks back at you. “Didn’t you just say you were proud of me for making an academic achievement?”

“I did. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t still a dumbass.”

Eddie snorts. “Well, at least it’s not ‘freak.’”

You cross your arms, feeling a little angry about how people have treated him in the past. “You’re not a freak.”

He scratches at his chin and you notice it looks like he might not have shaved in a few days. “Maybe in some ways I am.” 

You run both hands over your face, trying to suppress the burning deep in your belly. “I bet so,” you mumble. You lower your hands just enough to look over them and Eddie quirks a brow at you. 

You start to laugh behind your fingers and it makes him do the same until you’re both sitting there giggling like children over an immature joke. 

“So you’re gonna be alone all weekend?” Eddie manages to ask through a breathy laugh. 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “It’s not the first time, Munson.”

Eddie is home alone all the time, but for some reason he doesn’t like the idea of you being alone like that. He wants you safe. Comfortable.

The words are tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them. “Why don’t you spend the night with me?”

“Huh?”

“You know, so you don’t have to be alone and whatnot.” He gestures with his hands. He’s scrambling for even a fraction of proper brain function at this point. It’s evading him. 

“Eddie.”

“Come on. You literally have to walk across the road.”

You stare at him and he stares right back. Eddie studies the lines of your face, the color of your eyes, the way you’ve got a crease between your brows because of how hard you’re thinking this over. It looks like you’re contemplating a life or death situation. That situation is Eddie. Spending the night with Eddie Munson. 

“Are you sure about this? You literally watched me sob a few days ago and now you want me to just hang out in your house? I could be a murderer.”

Eddie spins the ring on his marriage finger around and around. “Are you? A murderer?” “Not last time I checked.” He laughs. “Then I don’t see the problem here.” “We barely know each other.” “How are we supposed to get to know each other if we don’t hang out? Isn’t that what sleepovers are for anyways?”

“That makes it sound like you’ve never had a sleepover before.” Eddie pulls his knee up and rests his chin on top of it, pale skin peeking out from the tears in his jeans. “Does being too stoned to drive home and passing out on your friends couch count? Or on his bedroom floor?”

That makes you laugh and the sight of your smile makes Eddie feel exponentially better. He’s starting to think it could heal any ailment. “There she is,” he says, swatting your calf with the back of his hand. It makes you burn and you think about when you actually held his hand. You want to do it again. 

You look around your living room, trying to avoid the big brown eyes you can feel boring into you. One look and you’ll give in–you just know it. 

“Okay. I’ll spend the night with you.”

“Ha! I knew you’d say that.” Eddie jumps up, clearly excited. He juts out a hand in your direction and you just look at it. “Come on,” he says, tilting his head to the side. 

You slip your hand into his and let him pull you up. “No more m’lady’s?” you ask. 

Eddie grins brilliantly. He looks boyish, like he’s just found some new bug he needs to show you. “I’ll give you as many m’lady’s as you want. Now come on and pack your shit. We’ve got bonding to do.”

————

“Is this really necessary?”

“Lift that corner, yeah! See? You got it.” Eddie watches you step around the mess that is his bedroom floor and help him heave his mattress up off the box spring. Once you’ve got it up, he starts to walk backwards and guide the both of you—sort of blindly—down the hall. “And yes, this is completely necessary.”

“If you say so,” you grunt, almost knocking a picture frame off the wall. 

“Let me live for fucks sake,” Eddie says. He’d already moved the coffee table out of the way, so you’re able to just drop the mattress on the floor in front of the couch. 

Eddie stands across from you, slightly out of breath which you find a little funny. “You can go put your pajamas on if you want,” he tells you. 

You grin. “Oh, can I?” 

The both of you had already eaten, Eddie having ordered a pizza because there was legitimately nothing to eat anywhere. His sleepover planning was admittedly very poor. But yeah, he wanted you to go put your pjs on so he could actually do something he’d come up with. 

“Yes. You can. Hurry it up m’lady, we have shit to watch.”

You give him a two finger salute. “Whatever you say, boss.”

Eddie waits for you to make it to his room and shut the door behind you before he gets to work. He changes the bottom sheet–the only sheet he uses because he finds top sheets obnoxious–on his mattress and shoves it in the washing machine to take care of later. He’ll probably forget and Wayne will berate him, but it’ll have been worth it. 

He opens the linen closet and pulls out a new sheet and some of the others that are in there. He pulls out the best blanket for you too, the really thick one that they don’t use all that often. Eddie looks at it for just a second before tossing it on the couch, remembering the day he came to Wayne’s. The day that this became his home too. Wayne had done something similar to this, actually. He’d let Eddie sleep with him. That night had been so hard and Eddie was just a kid.

Finally he gets back to work, sheet having been changed, dining chairs moved to either side of the mattress closest to the couch. 

Eddie puts one end of the sheet he’s using on the back of the sofa, stacking his D&D handbooks on top of it in hopes that it will hold. He steps back tentatively, hands up like he’s surrendering. “Stay,” he mutters, eyeing the books. 

He stretches the sides of the sheet over the backs of the chairs, using chip bag clips to keep it in place. The end result is a sort of canopy over his mattress. Eddie thinks it’s one hell of a fort, actually. He’s sat on the edge, looking through a stack of VHS tapes when you come out. 

Eddie looks up at you, doe eyes on full display. He looks so pretty, and even prettier when you realize what he’s made. You bring a hand up to your mouth, automatically sticking your nail just in between your lips to hide your growing smile. 

Eddie thinks you look gorgeous like this: pajamas too big for you, socked feet shuffling across the floor. You look comfortable. 

“Eddie.”

He stands. “You like it? I mean, it’s definitely unstable and we’re gonna have to be careful, but I think it’s kinda nice. I gotta get pillows, though.”

“I do like it,” you say, moving your hand from your face. You’re trying not to be nervous around him when he’s being so kind to you. So welcoming. “You didn’t have to do all of this just for me.”

Eddie crosses his arms. “You think I did this for you? I hate to break it to you, but I do this sort of thing all the time.” You giggle at him, seeing right through his antics. He likes that—that you don’t seem scared of him. That you don’t look at him like he’s mean. 

He grabs for your sleeve where you’re tugging at a loose thread on it, trying to get you to quit from fidgeting. He knows what that feels like. But he wants you to know that it’s just him. It’s just Eddie, and you’re more than safe with Eddie, contrary to what the rest of Hawkins might think. 

“I’m just kidding,” he tells you, eyes boring into yours. “I wanted to.”

You fight to keep eye contact with him. He really shouldn’t hold this kind of power, but he does.

“Thank you.”

“The pleasure was all mine, m’lady.” He bows, and you swat at his shoulder. He’s still snickering when he disappears into his room to change. 

————

You hadn’t meant to match pajama bottoms, but when Eddie had seen yours, he knew he should put his similar ones on. 

So now, here you sit, in your designated fort, and wearing matching plaid pants. Eddie has his arm around your shoulder, and you’ve tucked yourself into his side. Your hand keeps creeping along his stomach, and Eddie knows you're working up the courage to wrap your arm fully around his waist. 

When you’d felt the weight of him settle over your shoulders, your breath had hitched, but Eddie took it in stride. “It’s just me,” he’d said. And that had seemed to calm you down. 

Eddie had let you pick the movie, and you’d chosen Gremlins, which he was more than happy to watch with you. He thought watching something the both of you had already seen would not only ease some tension, but make it so that you could talk during the film if you wanted. 

On the screen, Gizmo propels himself upward on a snow shovel, and you giggle at his screams as he flies through the air. 

“Sorry,” you say to Eddie, chest shaking with laughter. He snorts at your hysterics. 

After you’ve finally hooked your arm around him fully, and the movie is coming to an end, Eddie decides to breach the topic that’s been bugging him since that night. 

“Any chance you might wanna talk about why you were so upset the other night?” He hopes he hasn’t overstepped, that he hasn’t pushed too far too quickly. 

You move your hand and he worries you’ll retract it completely, but you just sit up, still pressed next to him, just no longer clinging to him. You tuck your fingers under his knee where his leg is stretched out beside you. He welcomes the gesture. 

“I just had an argument with my parents, is all. Got upset, but you saw that.”

He turns to look at you, and you look back for a second before continuing to watch the movie. “Was it bad?”

“Just loads of yelling, on their part. They’re very good at hurting my feelings.” 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, and he means it. You look at him then, and you smile. It’s soft, but it tells him all he needs to know. You’re hurting, but you’re used to it. He hates that he understands. 

“It’s okay. It’s just that college is hard, and then I come home and I’m tired, and then they want to fuss at me for everything and nothing. Sometimes I feel like I’m some kind of black hole or something.”

Your fingers squeeze Eddie’s knee a little. He pulls your hand from his leg and intertwines your fingers with his. There’s a little part of you that warms, that screams, hand holding, hand holding! You’re glad he’s holding your hand. 

“They fucking suck for making you feel that way, you know.” That makes you grin, so Eddie keeps going. “You don’t deserve to feel that way. Not even a little bit. The entire time I’ve known you, even if we haven’t been more than acquaintances, you’ve been a sweetheart. You’ve been kind, and understanding.”

Your eyes water but you refuse to cry in front of him a second time. He’s just being so nice. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” You drop your forehead against his shoulder, and he kisses your hairline. You burn at the feeling of his lips, full and warm, against your skin. 

“You’re safe with me, you know. You can come over wherever you want. And we can watch Gremlins,” he finishes with a breathy laugh. 

“I really appreciate that.”

Eddie looks into your eyes. There’s something sweet behind them. He nods. 

“What do you wanna do when you’re done with school anyhow?” he asks, realizing a little too late that you’ve probably been asked that a hundred times, but how else is he supposed to figure out the answer. 

“I’d like to write,” you tell him.

“Like, books and shit?” He’s not teasing. He’s really asking. 

“That’d be nice, yeah.” It really would. The big unattainable dream.

“That’s very metal of you. Maybe I’ll get you to help me plot a campaign sometime. The stories can get a little tricky in this fucked up brain of mine,” Eddie says. 

“Really?” You look excited at the idea.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” The smile on his face is brilliant. 

“Maybe I’ll even teach you how to play. If you want.”

“That’d be nice too, Eddie.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @ajkamins @golddustwitches @copycatkillerfics @prestinalove @zaypay @clovermunson

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fluff #wayne munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #savannah’s fics

[gotham-ruaidh]

(new) haven - a 7x04 story

“Do you recognize anything here from your own time?”

Claire slowly sipped her stew. “Maybe if we were closer to the university. Frank took Brianna here quite often – he so enjoyed the Harvard and Yale football games, and it was always difficult for me to take time off from the hospital. But I remember the oldest section of the university was constructed well before the Revolution.”

Jamie fidgeted with the spoon beside his own untouched bowl of stew, watching the entrance to the tavern. “So the university still stands.”

“Yes – it’s considered one of the best in the country. The city grew, too. After the Revolution, New Haven became an important port for whaling ships. Lots of money. Then the United States industrialized and…well. Its fortunes still hadn’t turned by the time Bree came here on a solo trip, not too long before we came to Scotland and met Roger.”

The lieutenant they had gotten to know on the ship from Wilmington – a kind and excessively cheery fellow – ducked into the tavern, scanning the crowd.

“I could say something about you allowing our daughter to travel here alone,” Jamie whispered, eyes fixed in the lieutenant.

Claire smiled wistfully. “She was visiting a friend from high school. They ate white clam pizza.”

He turned to her, brow furrowed. “Peet-zuh?”

“Ah!”

Jamie and Claire turned – and Lieutenant Hubbard sat himself at their table.

“So delightful to see you both without the ship heaving beneath us!”

Jamie pushed away his bowl of stew. “Eat this. My stomach still hasnae caught up to my legs being on land.”

The lieutenant heartily tucked in. “If you insist. I never much cared for tavern fare at home, but compared to the absolute slop on the ship…”

Jamie tensed. Beneath the table, Claire lay a comforting hand on his thigh.

“Tell me, Lieutenant – now that we’re here, do you think it really will be two weeks before we set out for Ticonderoga?”

“One week, two weeks, three weeks,” he shrugged, slurping the stew with gusto. “We need to re-supply, and wait for another company of men to join us from Georgia. Messengers can get their dispatches through, but with the roads as they are…”

Beneath the table, Jamie’s hand settled atop Claire’s. “There must be an apothecary here in New Haven. My wife will have need of medical supplies.”

Hubbard nodded. “Not too far away from the inn where we’ve been billeted. I suppose being an officer does have benefits every now and again. The rooms are a bit small, but it’s the last privacy I’ll have for a while. It’s two hundred miles – with all the men and animals and equipment, perhaps fifteen days?”

Claire twined their fingers together. “Sounds about right.”

Hubbard set down his spoon, wiping his mouth with the back of one sleeve. Surprised. “You’ve marched with an army before, mistress?”

Jamie squeezed her hand.

“I have. More than once.”

They waited –

“Well then. You won’t faint at the sight of blood. All the more reason to have you with us, even though you’re a woman.”

“She’s fixed me and my men more times than I can count.” Jamie’s voice was calm, but Claire felt anger in the grip of his hand. “There’s no one else I’d trust wi’ my life.”

Hubbard stood. “Good. Fraser – we’ve a council meeting to attend. The quartermaster is providing his report.”

Not caring one whit about Hubbard or any of the other men in the room, Jamie Fraser kissed his wife goodbye, long and proper.

“I’ll see you at the inn, Sassenach.”

She smiled, and bent to gather her basket as they both stood. “I’ll be waiting.”

--

“Well, I guess your appetite is back.”

Jamie swallowed another mouthful of bread, and cut a hunk of cheese with Claire’s knife. “Did you get greens for me to eat as well? I dinnae want the scurvy.”

Claire unscrewed the canteen and set it next to her husband on the small table. “Not tonight. But you’ll need to eat whatever I give you when we’re on the road. We don’t know what’s ahead.”

He picked up the canteen and sniffed. Face lighting up with joy.

“Whisky?”

She smiled. “The innkeeper’s wife. Her daughter suffered a nasty burn while cooking yesterday. I examined it and made her a poultice. And asked for a canteen of whisky as payment.”

He took a sip. “You’ve always been a canny one.” He held out the canteen to her. “Drink up now. I ken you want to.”

She smiled, taking the canteen from him, deliberately sliding her fingers over his. Watching him watch her take a sip.

He cut another hunk of cheese. “How much have you been thinking about Charles Stuart’s army these past few days?”

She took another sip of whisky. “Too much. I see their faces.”

“Aye, I do too. Though this army is much better supplied. And we know victory is sure.”

She rose and stepped around the table to stand in front of him. Without a word, he began undoing her laces.

“The French will come though this time, Jamie.” She untied his neck cloth.

“Aye, Hubbard was speaking today of it. Ships have come with gold, and men, and money.”

Her bodice fell to the ground. “A good thing you speak French so well. What about the other men?”

He stood and pulled her closer, hands warm on the bare skin of her chest. “Just one colonel at the council today. Perhaps some of the soldiers.”

He ducked down, leaving slow, open-mouthed kisses along her neck and clavicle. She shivered, pulled him closer with her left hand, her right hand undoing the laces of his breeches.

“Why do you taste so good?” he breathed.

“Maybe it’s the whisky,” she smiled, untucking his shirt, grazing her fingertips over the plane of his belly and the thick hair below.

He skimmed his nose up her jawline, meeting her lips in a searing kiss.

“It wasnae like this when you came back to me,” he gasped, cupping her breasts as she teased the root of him with her thumb. “Only – ”

“Only at the very beginning.” Her breath was short and shallow now, eyes closed, picturing him laughing above her in the heather. “When we couldn’t stop.”

He stole her breath in another kiss. “I cannae stop now, Claire. Are you willing?”

She pulled away. Met his shining eyes, surrounded by the lines and creases of joy and sorrow and so many incredible years together.

“S'il vous plait.”

He slid off her shift, and she pulled off his shirt. He stepped out of his breeches, and bent to pick her up. Her legs wrapped around him, and they crossed the room as they kissed and kissed and kissed.

“Je t’aime,” he breathed, setting her so gently on the bed she thought she might cry.

“Je t’aime,” she replied, over and over and over again.

#outlander #outlander 07x04 #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire

[redflagshipwriter]

Reassembly 5

Masterpost

(What the frick is the bat guy about???)

They did serious damage to Lexy’s credit card in the form of a cast iron pan, a pot, basic cooking utensils and a four-person set of dishware before they even made it to the grocery store.

Peter tried not to go nuts there. He really did. But Kon had that empty kitchen! And to be honest, shopping was major wish fulfillment. Even though he knew he wouldn’t be eating all of the food he got way into it. They stocked up on easy freezer food like pizza rolls and fries. They got pasta mixes and jarred sauces and they got snacks and sweets. He even got Kon baking basics. It might take Kon a while to get into his fresh bread era, but it was going to happen. Peter was calling it now. Kon was just that kind of guy.

The last thing he got was meat. Meat and cheese and fresh vegetables. Peter ended up putting back half of what he initially put in the cart because, honestly, Kon didn’t have a massive super appetite and he didn’t know how to cook yet. Vegetables were just going to go bad, so he only got what he planned to use that night. He also stocked Kon up on breakfast supplies- bread and jam, eggs, sausage, coffee and tea and juice.

‘I wish I was staying with Kon to eat this. I’m going to be hungry again tomorrow.’

Peter pushed down that greedy little thought where it belonged. He was going to be eating lunch and dinner with Kon tonight, since they were cooking together. That was already really generous on Kon’s part. He couldn’t ask for more.

The boys ended up making spaghetti. Peter wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he could cut onion and garlic to cook meat in, shred in carrots and zucchini, and add a jar of red sauce to make something nutritionally dense that tasted really good. Kon hovered over his shoulder watching this process and making faux sports commentary. 

“Go away!” Peter shoved Kon with his shoulder, laughing. “Go start the garlic bread.”

“...Garlic bread?” Kon asked hopefully. He seemed way younger than he was sometimes. “You can make that at home?”

“You can, if you get to cutting garlic really small.” Peter tossed him a bulb without looking.

They ate dinner while watching some drama that Kon picked out on a streaming service. “Holy shit,” Kon said quietly after his first bite. He put down the plate and took a photo.

Peter snorted. Kon must have sent it to someone because his phone went off constantly after that.

He wasn’t even done eating their late lunch when he first wondered where he was going to sleep tonight. Peter stared down into his pasta like it might have some answers. When should he leave? What would he say if Kon asked for his phone number? He didn’t have one. He couldn’t give Kon the number to the phone he had on him– he was pretty sure that he really should get rid of it in case someone was tracking him. 

He should ask first. If he directed the conversation it would be easier to be normal than if he was just answering questions. So Peter swallowed hard, made himself smile, and said, “This was fun. Wanna hang out again?”

Kon noisily slurped down some sauce and wiggled in place while he chewed and swallowed. “Yeah, we should!” he agreed. “You uh, free later this week?”

He was jobless and homeless with no other acquaintances. 

“I have some time,” Peter said casually. “I’m kinda busy tomorrow, but the day after? Should I come over in the afternoon?”

“Yeah!” Kon bounced up off his seat for a moment. “We can finish the projects. Or work on them, at least.” He screwed his face up with a thought. “Can I get your handle or number, in case my work pops up?”

Peter’s smile turned fixed. “Actually, not now,” he said as casually as he could manage. “I dropped my phone in water. I just have my Dad’s old phone right now for emergencies.” He didn’t need to add that lie, but what if he needed to pull out the flip phone later? He didn’t want Kon to think that he just hadn’t wanted to give his number.

Kon laughed. “That sucks, man,” he empathized. 

Oh thank Thor, he bought it. 

The fabric was dry by then, so Peter helped Kon cut it out and sew it into place. Kon modeled his new look in the living room and then took approximately two hundred selfies while Peter worked on his project. Kon eventually flopped down on the sofa upside down and started sketching out design ideas. Peter glanced over and saw what looked like a boob window cut into some kind of top.

…Kon would look great in it. Peter didn’t comment. He smiled a little more when he went back to cutting out pieces for his own jacket.

“Smile!”

Peter looked over on reflex and cheesed. A shutter went off. “Can I send that to my friends?” Kon asked, so casually that Peter knew it mattered a lot. “Cassie says no way did I meet someone without her.”

“Go ahead.” Peter gave a thumbs up for reasons even he did not understand. Good thing he wasn’t a weird little guy! 

Kon looked relieved. There was less tension when he went back to looking at his phone. “Thanks, man. You want to think about dinner soon? You’ve been working for a couple of hours.”

Peter had to blink a few times to process that. Oh yeah, he was pretty stiff. He stretched experimentally. “You’re right,” he said, mildly surprised. “Huh. What did you have in mind?”

Kon shrugged. “Pizza?”

Peter hummed. “We can pull that off,” he decided. “We have… two more jars of marinara, one will do. Cheese, the bell peppers- yeah, that’ll work.” He stood in a smooth movement. “Could you get the flour down from where we put it- yeah, thanks.” Kon hovered back down and handed him the bag.

“I meant that we should order it,” Kon said, but he didn’t protest. “You can make pizza? At home?” He was delighted by this new information.

“You can make basically anything at home,” Peter said, because it apparently needed to be said. “Can you look up a pizza dough recipe?” He got out the salt and tried to remember where he’d put yeast.

Pizza did not go quite as smoothly as the pasta had. Kon brutalized the dough by over mixing it and the gluten developed bonds strong enough to rival the Hulk. But it was still edible! Kon was openly delighted with what he had made. Peter stole sideways glances at him, wondering if he should reassure that it was a great first try.

‘..I’m not sure he knows that it’s really tough,’ Peter decided. He said nothing. They watched one episode of Kon’s selected drama before Peter decided it was time to go.

Kon seemed surprised when Peter said that. He blinked at him a few times. “It felt like I was at the tow- a sleepover,” he said self consciously. He forced a laugh. “Yeah. You wanna leave your stuff here?”

Peter looked around Kon’s surgically clean living room and wondered if Lexy’s cleaning staff would throw away his stuff. “Yeah, sure,” he said, because it wasn’t like he had a place to store a project. “I appreciate that.”

He left not much later, making his excuses and backing out into the night with dread that he didn’t want to face curling in his gut. The feeling intensified as he got down to the lobby of Kon’s apartment building.

It was dark out, even with the streetlights on. The air was cold against his face. Peter huddled into his jacket, hand wound tightly around the strap of the bag with everything he owned in it.

At least he knew the time. It was a little past 10 pm.

He needed a shower and to sleep. The gym should be empty now. He could break back in, shower, and then go sleep on the library couch again. Even if the librarian came in early again, he could get a few hours of sleep.

He woke up again to the sound of keys in the door downstairs. This time he woke up feeling much better rested. Peter wandered blearily until he found a clocktower and realized it was nearly 9 am. Nice. He was working on his sleep debt, then. He surely hadn’t spent more than an hour between traveling to the gym, showering, and getting to the couch last night. That was maybe 9.5, 10 hours of sleep?

He left to a new hotel for a breakfast buffet. This one was particularly sad. He had two pieces of peanut butter toast and a glass of milk before he heard the front door staff quietly phone someone else asking if they had any teenagers staying at the moment. He left pretty quickly after that and walked for a while, heart pounding. The police didn’t descend on him with sirens and lights, so he was probably okay.

‘I can’t go back there.’

Later that day, Peter grimaced and took a moment to indulge in burying his face in his hands. He was overwhelmed and he still felt shitty and dirty and gross despite his shower. Maybe it was getting spotted as a homeless teen eating from the buffet? Yeah. Probably that.

He was in the library again, sitting in front of one of the older computers and hoping he'd get a reply from a potential client who had asked for some information. 

Maybe it was a little weird to spend all day in the library. He was on notice for librarians acting like they wanted him to clear out, just in case.

But, assuming no one had any problems with it, why not spend most of his daylight hours there? He could study computer science, use the computers to do his work, and be somewhere temperature controlled for free. They also had pitchers of coffee and tea for free that he took advantage of. 

He was hungry, though. He was always hungry. Maybe it had been a mistake to go to Kon’s house. It almost felt worse to be hungry again after eating everything he wanted two meals in a row. Peter suppressed despair. He was doing his best! He was taking care of himself.

"Is everything alright?" 

Peter shot up and gave a sheepish grin to the librarian. He hadn't noticed her approaching, but he'd been lost in his head. "It's fine," he said. 

The older woman gave him a sympathetic smile. "Well, let me know if there's anything I can help with. It's what I'm here for." 

Oh. Before she could turn away he blurted out, "College!" 

Her face lit up. "Are you applying?" 

"I need to." Peter wrung his hands together. "But I don't know where to start. I want to go somewhere with a strong sciences program but I think I need to go there on scholarship." 

She sat down beside him, an easy smile on her face like this was a topic that she enjoyed. “Do you care about where it is?”

Peter shook his head. “It would be best if I could stay in NYC since I know here, but I’m willing to go anywhere that meets those conditions.”

She nodded slowly. “There’s a few places I can think of.” She hesitated. “Do you expect to be eligible for testing related scholarships?”

“Yeah,” said Peter, who was so good at tests but would probably falsify the results that he needed if he didn’t manage to take tests in time. “I test well. Very well.”

“That’s great! And you said sciences? Technological sciences?” she didn’t glance at his current computer science book, but she didn’t have to. 

“Yes,” he said, not entirely sure what he should be focusing on. Engineering, to build some kind of portal? Astrophysics like Dr. Foster, to find an Einstein-Rosen bridge? He’d have to get his foot in the door to figure out what was going on in the fields here. Shit, he should have looked into that already. 

“And you would be looking to live by yourself, on campus? Or off? With family?”

“By myself,” Peter said, and wow that was depressing. “And whichever way is cheapest.” He cringed as he said it. That felt pathetic too. He wanted to say he wanted to live on campus since he’d be more likely to meet people that way. But honestly, he had no resources, at all. He couldn’t afford to be picky. 

The librarian’s smile was a bit fixed now. “I… I almost hate to suggest it, but have you considered Gotham?” She continued before Peter had to decide whether or not he should admit he didn’t know that university. “It’s a dangerous city to live in, but it’s very affordable, and there’s extensive funding for the sciences and student support services.”

“...Because it’s a dangerous city and doesn’t get many people?” Peter confirmed.

She was doing her best to keep a poker face. “That’s right. They have a brain drain situation at the moment, so the sciences are really well funded. I think you could probably go there with full support, though that might be contingent on taking an internship or job in Gotham after graduation.”

Huh. He considered it. He’d never heard of Gotham, so it had to be a city that didn’t exist back home. But so what? How bad could it be? It was like, Chicago or something? He could handle that. He was Spiderman. He was an Avenger, sort of. So he directed a real smile at the librarian. “If I could get a full scholarship there, I would go in a heartbeat,” Peter said. “Thanks for the suggestion! I’ll look into the university there.”

The librarian patted the side of his chair as she stood up. “Wonderful! Let me know if you change your mind or have any questions!”

He ended up having a lot of questions, actually, once he started looking into Gotham, but he didn’t think, “What the frick is the vampire bat guy about?” was what she’d had in mind.

#red reassembly #marvel dc crossover #kon el kent #peter parker #dark matter inspired

[greyghoulclub]

harringrove flip it reverse it prompt 2 - angst becomes fluff

for @harringrove-flip-reverse-it

ao3 link: Movie night at Steve's - greyghoulclub - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Billy antis DNI

“We should watch Footloose,” Steve said after finishing his shift at Family Video. Billy had scoffed at first because he didn’t like romantic movies. If it was up to him they’d definitely be watching Nightmare on Elm Street and definitely not because he found Johnny Depp hot in a crop top. 

“Didn’t know you were into dancing pretty boy,” Billy offhandedly remarked. He saw Steve roll his eyes from the chick flick section of the store. He also grabbed Reanimator for Max and The Lost Boys. 

“Robin said it was good, and I trust her opinion,” Steve grabbed the three VHS tapes Billy was holding and took them to the counter where Robin was waiting. She looked over their choices with a raised eyebrow and took one of the tapes, “Lost Boys? Fitting since Billy looks like a discount David.” 

“Buckley I can and will slash your bike’s tires,” Billy half-heartedly threatened while Steve doubled over laughing. Robin mhmm-ed him and she put the tapes on Steve’s account. Billy pouted a little at the fact his boyfriend wasn’t defending him. Steve was wiping away tears and gasping for air, “don’t look at me like that-” Steve never finished the sentence before he dissolved in another fit of giggles. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute Stevie,” Billy threw a couple of bags of sour candy onto the counter, “I have way better hair than David.” He chuckled when he heard Robin's fake gag. 

“You two are disgustingly in love, stop making me witness it,” Robin slammed the register shut and handed Steve his change out of 20 dollars. Billy barked out a short laugh and said he’d tell Heather that Robin was being mean. 

“Heather would think it’s really cool and sexy of me that I bully you two,” Robin reached over the counter for a bag of gummy worms and tore the bag open. Neither Steve nor Billy could argue with that, if anything Heather would encourage more friendly bullying. “C’mon get out of here lovebirds, I don’t wanna see you two being gross in front of my gummy worms.” 

Billy licked Steve’s cheek just before they left, just to hear Robin groan.

*******

Billy rummaged in the pantry for some microwave popcorn while Steve set up the VHS player. For someone who lived off of what he could jam in a microwave, Steve did seem to have a pointed lack of popcorn. He heard Steve open the door for the pizza guy and nearly dodged a box of Ritz crackers falling on his head. He cursed under his breath and rubbed the corner of his temple where the box of crackers had attacked him. 

“B, the pizza’s here,” Steve called from the living room. Billy gave up on finding the popcorn, slammed the pantry door shut and joined Steve on the couch. 

“Only you would get olives on a pizza,” Billy teased his boyfriend a little, laughing when Steve rolled his eyes at him. He took a slice without olives, took a bite and immediately burnt his tongue on the hot cheese. It was Steve’s turn to laugh then. 

Billy halfheartedly told Steve to shut up, and snuggled into Steve’s side. Steve gave him a kiss on the forehead as the opening theme to The Lost Boys started to play. 

*****

“Ugh I hate that scene,” Steve muttered when Micheal thought David was eating worms out of a Chinese takeout carton. 

“Huh? That’s like one of the least gross scenes,” Billy looked up at Steve cringing at the TV screen, watching David slurp up the noodles, not worms. 

“Yeah but the idea of eating worms grosses me out, like them wiggling in your mouth? I’d rather eat my own tongue- what are you laughing at?” 

“Nothing Stevie, I just think you’re cute when you’re talking.” Steve blushed all the way down to his chest. 

****

After The Lost Boys and Terminator, Steve put the Footloose tape in the VHS player. Billy still didn’t know why Stave chose it, he said that Robin recommended it but he was sure Steve wasn’t that into romantic movies. Sure the music from the movie was ok, but a chick flick? 

They had finished the pizza by the middle of Terminator and tore through the sour candy Billy had bought at Family Video. Steve left the living room to look for more snacks leaving Billy with the opening minutes of Footloose. He kinda thought the plot was a little dumb, a small podunk town in the middle of nowhere banning rock music and dancing? Sounded like something Carver would get his dad to do. 

“Have they got to the part where they race the tractors yet?” Steve came back into the living room with a bag of barbeque chips. He flopped onto the couch next to Billy and opened the bag, popping a chip in his mouth. 

Billy put on a faux-offended tone, “Hey! Spoilers!” he topped it off with a hand on his chest. Steve couldn’t help but take the bit, “I thought you didn’t care about chick flicks,” he laughed when Billy made some more mock offended gestures. 

They watched the tractor race and then the campaign to have a senior prom at Bomont high after Ariel had told Ren the reason why the town had banned dance. They both yelled at the screen when Chuck hit Ariel. “Fucker,” Billy had mumbled under his breath. The whole standing up for what you think is right felt like an after-school special to Billy, although he did feel for Ariel having an overbearing and suffocating father. 

The final dance scene however, is where it got Billy. The pure joy and the lift between Ren and Ariel had his eyes watering again. He had turned away from Steve so the latter didn’t see him tearing up at a dumb movie. 

“Billy? Are you ok?” Steve tried to put his hand on Billy’s shoulder but he knocked it away. 

“Leave me alone! That shit was fuckin’ beautiful!” 

“I am so fucking in love with you Billy Hargrove.”

#harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove flip it reverse it 2023 #harringrove flip it reverse it prompt 2 #billy hargrove #billy antis dni

[ajgrey9647]

“it’s okay, you’re okay, just breathe. i’ve got you now, you’re safe.” + Billy Cranston

Hooky and Heroism

Eugene ‘Skull’ Skullovitch would plainly admit to anyone who asked that he was simply not a hero. If anything, he was more of a sidekick, if not just an adornment of the scenery. His gum snapping, witty observations, and high-pitched laughter were the only flashing signals guiding anyone’s attention to the skinny, dark-haired teen.

A hero? Pffft…. Most days, it was a struggle to save himself let alone anyone else. That was the way of the world in the Skullovitch household. Fend for yourself, it is what it is, etc. For a large part of his young life, this had been the norm and Skull never gave it a second thought. Wasn’t everyone’s family like his with their own crosses to bear?

Getting from one day to another by whatever means presented themselves.

Aligning himself with Bulk, a fellow outcast, gave ‘seasoning’ to his days and for a time, he was content with their dynamic. Bulk was the main character, Skull the perfect foil for the other’s theatrics. It was sad that this young man never seemed to realize the magnificent flamboyance he possessed, if he’d only step into the spotlight himself.

But sometimes, fate has a way of giving a person a nudge in the right direction. For Skull, it was a firm, authoritative, swift kick in his boney ass. He was in the right place at the right time and, wouldn’t you know, he was the right person to boot!

That day, Skull was playing hooky, feeling no desire to waste this beautiful sunny weather withering away in a classroom. He wasn’t concerned about the school calling his parents. Even if his mom were available to answer, she’d merely rasp, “So?” before hanging up. The mall was calling his name this morning and he grinned excitedly.

With all the competing sights, smells, and noises, it was a Wonderland of delight for his hyperactive senses. Skull planned to hit the arcade, the food court, the music store, the joke shop. The day was his oyster. Ambling leisurely up the front walk to the big glass doors, he almost vibrated with joy.

The mall was two levels with a large circular ‘wishing’ fountain in the middle. Skull lost track of how many pennies he flipped into the swishing water; the ‘wishes’ he wished were foolish flights of fancy. Mostly they involved grand adventures of the sort he used to dream up with Billy Cranston when they were six.

Skull had a talent for sniffing out lost souls, those who’s home life was difficult and turbulent. It was like he could detect a faint aura of rage mixed with pain emanating from them like a fine mist. The tiniest nuance of emotion, things others would not even notice, stood out to the gangly teen like a neon sign.

Realizing the new kid in school radiated this similar tragic energy as himself had been a surprise. In the short span of a few weeks, he’d brought Kimberly Hart to tears in the hallway at school, caused Zackary Taylor to wind up in detention, and somehow managed to frighten Jason Scott, a muscular jock with a black belt.

Tommy Oliver was venomous; however, Skull was one of the few people who didn’t refer to him as that ‘fucking dick’ behind his back. He recognized misplaced pain and despair. But that didn’t mean that he had any notion of paling around with the sullen, aggressive teen.

Popping his earbuds in place, Skull quickly found his favorite song and happily danced along as the escalator approached the mall’s second level. The food court was situated right as one stepped off onto the tiled floor. The delicious smells of pizza, nacho meat, and grilling burgers wafted temptingly. Fishing in his pockets, Skull managed to count out enough in change for a slice of cheese pizza and a small soda.

What a perfect day!

He reclined back in the old wrought iron chair in the large eating area under the skylight, slurping the last of his beverage when he suddenly noticed something amiss. Jumping quickly, the chair tipped backwards spilling him out on the ground. Eyes wide, he pulled his ear buds out to the frantic screams of people fleeing towards the downstairs escalator.

From down the winding corridor, a crowd of grey clay monstrosities raced after the frightened shoppers, tipping tables and racks of clothing, kicking trashcans, and shattering glass windows in their wake.

Putties!

Black boots scrabbling over the tile, Skull found his footing and attempted to escape. Getting to the escalator in the disorganized mass of people and mess wasn’t possible. In all the chaos, he spied a hiding spot on the other side of an upturned food cart; pretzels, salt packets, and napkins were scattered in a wide fan before it.

Dropping down, he crawled wildly towards that nearby cart. The putties hadn’t noticed him slinking across the way with so many screaming, hysterical individuals to terrorize. Skull pulled his knees to his chest and pressed tight against his barrier. Heart thudding and panting rapidly, he noticed another distinct noise echoing through the upper level.

The clang of metal on metal.

Risking a peek, Skull peered around the cart’s edge enough to see the Blue Ranger take a devasting blow from the newest villain in Rita’s posse. The Ranger’s chest sparked from the strike of the Green Ranger’s curved blade and his lance clattered uselessly to the ground.

A dark laugh from the evil Ranger as he kicked the weapon aside and continued to advance menacingly.

“Uh oh, Blue Ranger,” he snarled. “Your team’s about to be down a color.”

Kipping to his feet, the retreating Ranger fell into a ready stance, fists clenched and bracing for the Green Ranger’s attack.

“Isn’t this cute? You think you’re a match for me when even your so-called leader isn’t? Mighty presumptuous of you, Blue,” he mocked, swinging his sword from side to side.

The Blue Ranger was silent, not bothering with the usual back and forth banter the others engaged in. He knew he was out of his depth with the evil Ranger. The monster was right; if Jason had been brutally beaten and traumatized in the Dark Dimension, what hope did he have?

Skull held his breath nervously as he watched the two Rangers. He’d only ever seen the Green Ranger on television. In person, he was a bull of a man, head lowered ferally, growling deep in his chest.

“Come on then, little boy Blue, let’s tango,” the Ranger hissed, before launching himself at the other.

Mouth agape in horror, the skinny teen watched as the Green Ranger unleashed a volley of rapid punches and kicks, punctuated with slashes from his weapon. The Blue Ranger cried out in pain, desperately trying to defend himself. Slowly, he was backed against the railing overlooking the lower level; the swishing water of the fountain below almost unnoticed in the melee.

A powerful roundhouse kick to the head and the defensive Ranger dropped to the floor, semi-conscious while the Green Ranger loomed over him, laughing. Skull could hear soft groans and watched as the Blue Ranger’s fingers fluttered weakly. He wasn’t going to be able to get up and defend himself, the perfect sitting duck for this crazed Ranger.

‘DO SOMETHING’, blared through Skull’s mind, drowning out his usual nervous chatter. ‘He’s going to KILL him if you don’t!’

Reacting without further reflection, the smaller teen leapt to his feet and charged the Green Ranger from behind.

So confident had Tommy been about what was about to transpire, he was stunned when he felt hands shove hard into his back, propelling him forwards. He stumbled, arms flailing as his boot caught on the downed Ranger’s body and he tipped over the top of the level’s railing, waist catching and sending him end over end into the fountain below.

Pain flared through the Green Ranger’s knee and the cold bite of the water stunned him momentarily. The whole action completely threw him for a tailspin; that wasn’t supposed to happen!! Now, he was really fucking PISSED!

Up on the second floor, Skull crouched down by the Blue Ranger’s helmet, unsure what to do to help. The only thing he could think of was to reassure the injured Ranger.

“It’s ok, you’re ok. Just breathe. I’ve got you now. You’re safe,” he whispered, reaching out a trembling hand to stroke the silky blue arm.

Skull wasn’t sure what he meant by ‘I’ve got you now.’ If that psychotic fucker came racing back up here…. Well, they’d both be dead meat. When the otherworldly scream of rage reverberated from down below, Skull knew that was likely what was about to happen.

Nervously peering down into the fountain, Skull found that demonic black visor staring directly at him. Jabbing a threatening finger upwards, the Green Ranger bellowed at him ominously.

“Motherfucker! You’re so DEAD!”

He limped to the ledge of the fountain, hand clutching his right leg. The other held tightly to his gleaming blade.

“I’m going to kill you slowly, punk!” he screamed, stepping over.

A flash of red and the Green Ranger found himself intercepted.

“Think again, asshole!” the Red Ranger yelled defiantly, his sword also drawn.

The Pink, Yellow, and Black Rangers fought back a large golden ape and an armor-clad woman with long black hair. The Green Ranger surveyed the surrounding brawl with embarrassment. Had Goldar and Scorpina seen that little freak push him over the rail?

His helmet turned back to slowly look the Red Ranger up and down.

“So you want my attention some more, you pompous, arrogant jackass? The Dark Dimension wasn’t enough for you?” he taunted.

Glancing back towards Skull, he chuckled.

“I’ll get you later, freak! Red wants to play now,” he warned.

‘Oh shit, did I really just do that? What was I thinking?’ Skull fretted.

A noise from his left caught his attention. The Blue Ranger was stirring, his arms pushing his upper body off the floor and pulling his knees under him. Skull couldn’t help but give an excited yelp of joy at seeing the Ranger awake and moving. The gloved hand went to his helmet and clutched it as he grunted in pain.

“Hey, you’re awake!” Skull squeaked happily and almost clutched the Blue Ranger in a tight hug.

The visor slowly locked on the teen’s face and the Ranger sucked in a surprised breath.

“Thank you for interceding. That was a rather brave reaction,” Billy managed, stunned to see who it was that saved him.

Skull blushed a deep pink.

“Awww, you’re welcome. But it was more stupid than brave,” he answered. “That’s how most of my decisions are anyways.”

The Blue Ranger shook his head and placed a hand on Skull’s shoulder.

“Negative. You were very brave just now. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

The helmet tilted in thought.

“Remember this. You’re braver than you think, Skull,” the Ranger continued.

Skull’s eyes widened.

“You know my name?”

Whoops.

“We know a lot. Don’t forget that either,” the soft voice stuttered.

Hearing the angry yelling and swearing from the Green and Red Rangers below, the Blue Ranger gave a curt nod.

“I’ve got to get down there. Hurry and get to safety,” he instructed.

Skull nodded and watched as the Blue Ranger vaulted gracefully over the rail to join the others. Then he made his way to the exit undetected.

The next day, when the teen decided to attend school, he was the talk of Angel Grove High. The mall security footage had been leaked to the media and played over various news stations unbeknownst to Skull. He’d gotten several high-fives and claps on the back as he strolled down the halls.

Bulk bragged until he was blue in the face about his heroic best friend. Teachers, even Mr. Kaplan took time to applaud his actions saving the Blue Ranger, artfully overlooking his attendance issue. Skull squirmed under the scrutiny, feeling like a phony.

Apparently, he had missed a lot by skipping yesterday. Besides his act of heroism, the other topic of discussion was a supposed fist fight between Jason, whose left arm hung in a sling, and Tommy, who sported a crutch under one arm. No one really knew what happened. But Bulk whispered to Skull at the lunch table that he had overheard that the two had come to blows over a crude hand motion Tommy had given Kimberly in the art room.

Skull doubted that as he had personally seen the new kid give that exact same innuendo TO Jason as the pair bristled at each other in front of their lockers. Whatever had happened, the two were still at odds, with Tommy flipping Jason the finger in Ms. Appleby’s class when the teacher’s back was turned.

Or maybe the teen was just in a nasty mood with everyone now.

Before the last bell of the day rang, Tommy shoved Skull violently into a locker, completely unprovoked.

“Bitch,” he spat.

Maybe Tommy was just a fucking dick.

#boom! comics power rangers #jason scott #ao3 author #ao3 fanfic #billy cranston #eugene skullovitch #power rangers

[tiny-buzz]

Top 10 "Regis On The Red Carpet" Moments:

Regis sets a new Hollywood Red Carpet Record by praying 5 times toward the Kaaba during the premiere of Ice Age 2.

Regis interviews a mid-level celebrity on the projects that they're working on, their dress, whether or not they're having a good time, and the quality and shape of their most recent bowel movement.

Regis arrives at the red carpet at 3 a.m., asks, "Hey! Where is everybody!" and then later fires his assistant

Regis Philbin, complimenting Scarlett Johansson in 2009 after her appearance in Vicky Cristina Barcelona, asked ScarJo to rank every race on earth in ascending order of attractiveness, and screamed "WRONG" as loudly as he could whenever her rankings different from his own, which he had gotten preemptively tattooed on his forearms in a secret language.

Regis accidentally ingests a Cannabis Gummy and ends up eating an entire XL Pepperoni Pizza on the Red Carpet Premiere for Inspector Gadget

Regis, confused by his TomTom, is routed to the Autozone instead of the Oscars red carpet event, where he was due to start interviewing Hollywood's most glamorous stars. Regis, ever the optimist performer, is famous for his quick thinking and ability to pivot to any situation that may happen in Showbiz. Regis topped off his washer fluid and swapped out his wiper blades, which were nearing end of life with marginal performance levels. He needed assistance affixing the wiper blades for which he tipped the Autozone employee a crisp two dollar bill that had Regis's face on it. The employee later tried to use this bill for goods and services and was arrested by the FBI.

In an epic Oscar Night 2009 "The Show Must Go On" moment for the ages, Regis quickly improvises to cover for production crew's major boo-boo in ordering a white carpet instead of a red one. With only an hour until showtime, Regis has to think fast. Luring superstar Brittany Murphy to a secluded corner of the Chinese Theater, he brutally murders her with his bare hands, using a rope, proceeds to drain all the blood from her body into an industrial paint sprayer, and then saves the day by speedily blasting the white carpet with "all natural and organic red dye." The vibrant color wows and astounds the audience at home, and the Academy later awards Regis its highest honor, inducting him into The Order of the Gray Owl in a private ceremony, and later assists in devising a scheme whereby the public will be mislead about Murphy's death, later in the year.

Regis shoves MachoMan in the chest after MachoMan accosts Mean Gene. MachoMan responds by grabbing Mean Gene and taking him to the ceiling rafters. MachoMan the jumps up and down causing the rafters to slant downwards. Regis, determined to save his love, races up the rafters, while MachoMan begins throwing barrels to stop Regis. Regis jumps over one barrel, then another, then accidentally falls back to the ground floor and starts again. These Red Carpet events would later be retold in the Bob Hoskins movie "The Long Good Friday".

"They're calling them Sonic the Sexhog, George, and before you can ask, yes, they're fast — as fast as ever — but they're also titillating."

In 1992 Regis spilled his nacho chips on the red carpet which threatened to halt the event until the mess could be cleaned up. Regis, ever the blue collar, boots on the ground showman, got down on his hands and knees and slurped up the nacho cheese right off the carpet, like a dog. Tom Arnold, at first laughing at the outrageous sight, decided to pitch in and got down like a hog in slop, licking up the molten cheese. Soon Jack Nicloson and Jodie Foster and the entire red carpet joined in and Hollywood had a big laugh as the crowd cheered. Many stars would later be sickened by this event with and lose their lives to an antibiotic resistant bacteria, which was memorialized in a segment during the 1993 Oscars.

Regis commits a faux pas in 2001 when he interviews newly-elected President George W Bush, then only two months into his first term, and asks him if he has any plans for his administration, and when Bush bemoans his ambitious-yet-unrealistic desire to install a techno-surveillance state that can see into the lives and minds of every citizen, Regis challenges him to create a false flag attack to install fear into the nation. "That way, the vox populi shall not shout in opposition to your plans, but rather beg for their implementation; they will cry out to be surveilled, like a young baby mewling for their mother." An onlooker to the dialogue, a young student under the tutelage of Parmenides, provides the only account thereafter: George W. Bush stood in quiet contemplation for several moments, then kissed Regis on the cheek, and whispered a message to him that is lost to history.

In 2011, a clearly confused/disoriented Regis roamed the Red Carpet, asking stars and starlets alike to "point him in the direction of the Skankin’ Caverns,” which we all know, as the State teaches us, is a fictional place of mischief, used only in parables to frighten children into compliance. Even the very notion of a genre of music that is characterized by a walking bass line accented with rhythms on the off beat is absurd. There is not now, nor will there ever be, “sk*” music.

In 2019 Regis had an “egg on the face” moment when he barged into the handicapped restroom at the Oscars and saw none other than P!nk taking an enormous watery dump. "Ha ha, that's quite a B.M., P!nk!" Regis opined. "Mind if I tell my viewers?"

In 2023, November 22nd, Regis wandered the streets of Newark, screaming "Regis Weekend has been extended until Thursday, November 23rd." He's doing it right now, laying down red carpet as he goes. Find him. Catch him

#regis weekend #honor the man #honor the carpet #regis hollywood

[nyctanthes-arbor-tristis]

Second Gen

I wrote a short Argyle fic, inspired by that amazing Surfer Boy headcanon. 

It’s on Ao3. And also below because I can’t get the Ao3 announcement to show up in the tag.

Rating: General

Type: Gen

Word count: 900

Is Jonathan mentioned? Yes!

Summary: His dad has a saying. The first generation creates the business; the second generation grows the business; the third generation drives it into the ground.

By business he means pizza. He also means money.

“Prove me wrong. Don't lose it,” his dad rumbles, in between big mouthfuls of hot sauce covered scrambled eggs and energetic slurps of black coffee. “God willing I’ll be dead by the time you're in charge, but I'll still be watching.”

In between careful bites of his own eggs, sunny side up on buttered toast, yolk drips here, there and everywhere but so worth it, a contemplative sip of orange juice, he thinks about what his dad said.

“But I'm the second generation,” he points out.

With a clatter of knife and fork, his dad stands up and leans over the table. He sniffs him, dubious. He sniffs, too, reflexively. 

Relax, he reminds himself. It's ok. It's only 7 a.m.

His dad thumps back into his seat and frowns. 

"Your brothers…They’re the second generation. Dependable. Hard-working. Sober.”

“Sober,” he agrees, trying not to sound depressed on their behalf. They’re so tense.

His brothers are fifteen and sixteen years older than him. They are, he has to admit, awfully responsible. All that working, and working and working. He doesn’t see much of them, though they all live in the family compound. When he does see them they ask about his grades, which could be, he's man enough to admit, better. Or they tell him to clean his room, it stinks. To turn down his music, it's bad. That he should go for a run; if he exercised he'd feel better about himself. He'd be capable of focus. He'd get better grades, clean his room, possibly develop better taste in music. He nods and smiles, promises his brothers he'll get on it right away. He buys a new pair of sneakers, a headband and wristbands. He visualizes himself running, running like a mustang, mane and tail streaming behind him. Then he gets tired and has to take a nap. 

It’s not that he purposely forgets, has some kind of agenda to thwart his brothers. He loves them. He agrees with them: he has room to improve. He hasn’t yet peaked. It's just that he's got a lot of other things on his mind.  

Burning Spear is in town next week, he has a mile high blondie recipe he's dying to try out, and there’s a new guy at school who seems like he needs a friend. He is so sad; it’s almost funny. Like, what can possibly make someone that sad?

Come to think of it, living with all of them is a bit like having three dads. Maybe he is the third generation and no one is telling him?

“Your brothers will grow this company. Expand it well beyond California. What will you contribute beyond ‘awesome' pizza names? Tomato Toile. Madrastic Margherita. Pepperoni Plaidness.” With each name his dad’s voice gets more basso, more indignant. Tidbits of green speckled egg shoot out of his mouth; they land on his plate but that’s not a problem. Circle of life.

“Pepperoni Plaidness," he marvels. "That’s amazing. How can I beat that?” He can picture it. Strips of pepperoni, slices of green and yellow peppers and red onions arranged in grids on a background of white cheese.

His dad is glaring at him. He recalibrates; hunches his shoulders and looks at him through his curtain of hair, soulful, sad puppy style. Please don't kick me. Like that little guy in shop class.

"That's hella harsh, duuu,” his dad is still glaring at him, "aaaaaddd." 

So he gets a job at Surfer Boy. "Wherever you think I'll fit," he says, magnanimous. A veritable Buddha. "I'm second generation, here to help. I want to learn the ropes. I want to grow me as well as the company - personally, professionally, whatever!”

He fits at the bottom. 

It's cool. He likes pizza. Eating it, driving it places, making it (though he's not allowed to do that yet; in fact, the staff tell him to stay well out of the kitchen until he's learned to braid his hair). Then there's talking to people about pizza - helping them make good pie choices. There are so many factors to consider: temperature and wind speed and cloud cover; breakfast, lunch, second lunch, snack, early or on time or late dinner or bedtime snack. Will it be eaten cold or hot? With beer or milk? The next day or the next week? He likes to help customers get out of their comfort zones; once or twice he's found someone who agrees they need to.

When he drives the van (it’s no Beemer or Benz, but it’s roomy and rides better than he expected: untapped potential) he likes to think of new pizza combinations. One especially productive afternoon he came up with Potitzza: Velveeta smothered french fries on a base of tomato sauce, thick crust probably needed. Guacizza: a mash of avocado, onion, jalapeno, lime juice, cilantro and chopped fresh tomatoes on a thin n' crispy, cheese-free shell. And the pièce de résistance: Salizza. Sun dried tomatoes, black olives and mozzarella with lettuce on top. How California is that?

Very. 

Competition has emerged. California Pizza Kitchen. Sure, it's only in Beverly Hills, but he's heard the rumors: BBQ Chicken Pizza. 

It's important to keep up. 

#argyle #st4 #sorry for the rbs #this is my last try #then i give up #my fic #jargyle #not really but...

[fenneykindlefire]

The Mice Eat To The Beat

(The short starts near a mouse hole where the Mouse King was having a conversation with his assistant) Mouse Assistant: Uh boss, are you sure there isn't enough for us to eat? Mouse King: Yes yes, there isn't enough food for us to eat! Mouse Assistant: What are we going to do boss? (suddenly, a miniature airplane flies out with a walkie talkie taped to it) Voice: Attention citizens, this is the pilot here. (cut to Wakko Warner who is the one speaking through the walkie talkie while Yakko Warner flies the plane with a remote control) Me and my friends are able to raid food storages and grocery stores and we got enough food for you to eat. (pepper starts pouring out of the plane causing the Mouse King and his assistant to cough) Just watch out for pepper! Mouse Assistent: (rings a bell as he coughs) Dinnertime! (a colony of mice run out of the mouse hole including two that resemble Pinky and The Brain. The mice jump onto the table and begin eating the food as the Warner siblings begin to sing Eat To The Beat by Blondie) You got to jump up, to the beat Stand up, on your feet Toes are tippi-tippi-tippi, tapping And you do it even when you're yapping Hey, you got a sweet tooth and I remember (A mouse takes some corn and eats it the same way it is eaten in cartoons. Another mouse eats an apple to the core, and even throws the whole core down its throat) Stand up on your feet Toes are tippi-tippi-tippi, tapping Hey, you got a sweet tooth and I remember Sitting in the kitchen eating peanut butter Eat to the beat (A mouse spreads some peanut butter onto a slice of bread and puts some bologna on it and tops it off with another slice of bread, and eats it with two other mice) Yeah, you got to, got to, you got the beat Ah, sweeter, sweeter, you eat your meat I know you do it, I know you do it I've seen you, seen you, seen you, seen you chewing Hey, you got a sweet tooth and I remember (Two mice hit their turkey drumsticks against a bowl and bite them to the bone as they start to get a little fatter. A mouse jumps on a banana and it jumps out of the peel and into its mouse, causing its body to become banana shaped) A sweeter treat, uh, you eat your meat I know you do it, I know you do it Oh, you got a sweet tooth and I remember Standing on the corner with a piece of pizza Eat to the beat (While two mouse roll a wheel of cheese in the background, another mouse opens a pizza box and it and four other mice eat every slice of the pizza and get fatter) You got to jump up, to the beat Stand up, on your feet Toes are tippi-tippi-tippi, tapping And you do it even when you're yapping Oh, you got a sweet tooth and I remember (Five mice eat a slice of watermelon, two mice eat a loaf of garlic bread, and three mice slurp up a plate of spaghetti) I've seen you, seen you, you eat your meat I know you do it, I know you do it Hey, you got a tummy ache and I remember Sitting in the bathroom swallowing antacid tablets (A mouse eats a string of sausages but accidentally eats another mouse that is eating at the end of the sausage string and becomes very fat) Eat to the beat Eat to the beat Eat to the beat (After the Warners finish singing their song, the Mouse King climbs onto the table while his assistant follows him) Mouse King: (as he walks through the other mice who are now roly poly shaped) Alright, who's dumb idea was it to fatten up my gang? (he passes by one of the mice who spits out the mouse it accidentally swallowed and it gets thin again) Who has been behind all this? (he opens up the curtains to reveal the Warners Yakko, Wakko, and Dot laughing) You three?! You were behind this?! Yakko: Sure did. You said that you didn't have enough food to eat. Dot: We had to make sure there is enough food to satisfy you. Mouse King: But we were going to go into the storage room to check and see if there's still some cheese left. Mouse Assistant: (rolls one of the fattened up mice) Well, at least they're well fed. Wakko: (takes the empty pizza box and takes a bite out of it) They sure are.

THE END

#animaniacs #mice #weight gain #fat #story

[superhero--imagines]

A/N: your daily reminder that I coined the term batmom in 2016 (half joking) but really- there’s no Bruce but if you like my writing please check out my bat boy x reader magazine here! This fic is heavily inspired by issue 16 in batman rebirth

“Is that really how you eat a burger?” Your eyes never stray from his knife, the silver glint as it cuts into the burger.

It’s not even a pseudo burger, not one of those “burger without the buns wrapped in a lettuce leaf” things you might have expected Gotham’s favorite, surprisingly health conscious, playboy to order. It’s got two buns, cheese, even mayo.

“Are you trying to be funny or something?”

Bruce quirks an eyebrow, his bite of burger speared carefully on his fork. You didn’t think bat burger had silverware.

“Why would you think that?” His tone is neutral, but you see the corner of his mouth twitch into a lopsided smile.

“Well isn’t that why we’re here,” you gesture with one hand to the fast food establishment. The fast food workers all dressed up as hero’s from the justice league, the cheesy superhero themed names for the food items, even the red and green seasoning over your fries which is called “joker seasoning”. It’s all a little ironic when the one and only batman is eating a ‘batman burger’ in front of you. “because it’s funny?”

“If I recall correctly, we’re here because you only had half an hour for lunch” his perfectly square cut of burger, with buns and vegetables, presses into his mouth. Geez, he makes the slight slurping sound you make seem absolutely vulgar.

“Do you eat pizza like that too?” You’ve got your head propped up on your hand, elbow pressed against the table. Truly, a deplorable show of manners.

But if Bruce minds, he doesn’t show it. His mouth still quirked in the lopsided grin.

“Now dear, you know I don’t eat, that’s for poor people” his nonchalant facade breaks when you laugh so hard you snort. His mouth arching into a grin, as he watches you laugh, hiding your smile behind your hand.

So now he’s trying to be funny.

“I don’t see why you’re laughing, you’re going to have to join us in the one percent soon enough and then all of this-“ he gestures to the food. “Will just be a memory.”

You roll your eyes at the dramatic gesture, and the joke, but you still laugh. If anyone else heard, they might even think he was being serious.

“If I didn’t know better I would think you’re proposing Bruce” you say it casually enough, with another sip of your drink, but you can’t deny the way your heart skips a beat when you see Bruce grin.

“Don’t act like you don’t know Alfred’s counting down the days until we make you an official Wayne” you almost choke, feeling heat creep into your face at just the thought.

“He’s always saying he can’t wait for someone with a modicum of responsibility to take over the day to day operations of wayne enterprises” you roll your eyes, fingers pinching a french fry.

“You know people get married for better reasons than shirking their responsibilities right? Like saving on taxes”

Now it’s Bruce that laughs. It’s only for a moment, a very subtle and soft chuckle which he hides behind a cough, he’s got an image to maintain in the public eye after all. But you catch the twinkle in his eyes when they meet yours.

“Darling, surely you know rich people don’t pay taxes, how do you think we got so much money to begin with?” You would roll your eyes if there wasn’t a grain of truth to it. Though, you know Bruce probably donates more than money to a good cause.

“What am I going to do with you?” You sigh, shaking your head and biting into your burger the proper way. Now with a fork and knife like Bruce.

“I guess you’ll just have to marry me and try to fix me” he shrugs, smiling as he takes another eloquent speared bite. You smile back.

“I guess I will”

Thanks for reading! If you liked my work please check out this bat boy x reader zine! There’s so much great art work and fics!

#batman imagine #Bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #batman x you #batman x y/n #Bruce wayne #zine #dcreaderinsertnet #dc imagines #superhero—imagines

[daegall]

Habits

↳ where donghyuck develops habits after he meets you

pairing: lee donghyuck x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: frozen ice cream >:(

word count: 2.6k words

a/n: Hi! Okay i know he ending is literal shit, but please bare with me 😭 i will do better i swear! I have lots planned and if yall are patient, then it will come in no time (thats a lie :(( ) OKAY IM SORRY BYE

networks: @neoturtles

description: There are certain amounts of things you have done that affected Donghyuck, you changed his attitude, the way he sees things, he even likes Pizza because of you. But one of the things that stood out that you have done to him is make him adapt habits. Of course, you didn't force him to, it just appeared one day and Donghyuck didn't seem to mind them. So here are some things you he has grew onto him because of you.

Buying an extra cup of coffee

This particular habit grew on him before you two started dating, one morning when you sat sluggishly next to him in history class he couldn't help bur notice how dead and tired you looked.

The moment you trudge into the room, Donghyuck couldn’t help but wince at your tired face. Your eyes heavy and steps slowed as if there was a whole boulder in your bag. “Dude, you look like you have Mark’s schedule.”

God knows how you would deal with that packed of a schedule, you’d die. Mark Lee is really something else.

You begrudgingly flopped next to Donghyuck, sighing out a breath of exhaustion, "Goddam Mr. Kim had to give us a 5000 word essay on climate change," you groan, slapping your face lightly to try and wake up, "Who the fuck had the idea to invent plastic?"

Donghyuck only chuckles, grabbing his coffee cup from his bag, beginning to tale a swig. He stops halfway when he notices you banging your head continuously with the thick history book, sticking out his hand with the coffee in between your forehead and the hard book, just before you slam your head on it again. "Take a sip," he urges, lightly tapping it on your cheek.

You don't remember, but you think you grinned, because Donghyuck is laughing at your eagerness. "I'm taking a huge gulp!" You half tease, knowing you were actually gonna take about 3 of them. Donghyuck hisses, flicking the side of your hand momentarily, before sighing, "Just take the whole thing."

You did so gratefully, even if Donghyuck thought you were gonna give it back. After that, he would pay attention to your responses to his texts, seeing wether you're in a good mood or not.

If you reply with an 'okay bob, pick me up in 20' then there's no need to buy an extra cup, if you reply with quite a dry text he's bringing one just in case and giving it to Mark if you don't need it. However if you're responding with swear words and angry emojis it's time to rush and get that coffee you need.

It became like this for a while, that is, until exams started. He noticed how moody and tired you got, constantly buying coffee without even having to see or ask. But now that you're a lot busier he's picking you up and giving you coffee and a grilled cheese, having a donut for himself.

Ever since then you two would just spend breakfast in the car, talking while eating and maybe even getting up earlier to just chill in the school parking lot to eat before class started, but only if you two are feeling extra energized.

This is a habit he realizes he has, and he actually likes because it reminds him of how he asked you to become his girlfriend in his car one time when you went to the school parking lot at 5 in the morning. That's a hour and a half earlier than you usually go to, and you two watched as the sun raised in the trunk of his car.

At that time, you decided to get grocery store ice cream tubs instead, you had a sudden crave that Donghyuck agreed to. You got a bit of ice cream at the corner of your lip, and Donghyuck decided that was the perfect opportunity to pull a clique little ' "you got a little bit there" and then proceeds to kiss you.' Yeah you failed your Math test that day because you were so distracted.

Your coffee felt warm in your hands, but the cold early morning wind nipped at your skin at the same time, urging you to take a sip from the paper cup once again. The only thing warm besides the hot coffee in your hand was Donghyuck, who sat close next to you to produce some warmth. Which was dumb because you had ice cream waiting to be devoured handing in a plastic bag in front of the semi-broken air conditioning to stay cool.

Donghyuck glanced behund him to see how the ice cream was doing, sighing when he sees no changes in the ice cream, the AC must’ve broken already. “Hey, ice cream’s melting, better eat it now before you have to drink it from a plastic bag.” He nudges at your thigh.

You nod, hopping off the trunk to go get the ice cream. Quickly stealing ut from the driver’s seat, you hurry back to Donghyuck for warmth, handing him his own ice cream. “Thanks,” he takes the cold treat from your hand, opening the cap open and sticking his spoon into the tub. He had a napoleon flavored tub of ice cream, while you got Rocky Road.

Though the AC of Donghyuck’s car was broken and some of the ice cream melted, the closer you get to the middle the more you realize it’s still frozen. “Damn dude, that’s a whole glacier.” Donghyck commented, eating a spoon of his own ice cream. You suddenly stop trying to destroy the frozen block of ice, “Yo have you heard how David Attenborough says glacier?”

“...what?”

“Dude we’re gonna watch ‘our planet’ later on today, I can’t believe you haven’t heard him say glacier!” You say as you stab your spoon into your ice cream, successfully breaking the bug block of ice. You scoop a big spoonful and shove it messily in your mouth, slurping when some dripped down your lips.

Donghyuck pursed his lips at the sight of the sticky treat stucking to the corner of your lips, putting his tub down, “You got a little bit there,” he points to yor mouth. Eyes widening, you blinly search for the ice cream around your mouth. Donghyuck stops you from wiping your mouth with your sleeve, taking it to his lap.

You’re about to protest, when Donghyuck catches your words in his lips. It takes you a few moments, but you kiss back, tasted the slight strawberry ice cream that stuck to his lips and tongue, and you’ve never loved how it tasted as much as this. He quickly pulled away, licking he remains of your ice cream off his lips.

“The fuck was that?”

“I really like you.”

————————————————————————————————————————

Waiting for you to dry his hair

This habit came about one night when he came put the shower in shorts and a big t-shirt, his towel plopped lazily on his hair. He came back home from working out with Renjun, and he subconsciously layed down on the couch right next to you.

He shoved his wet hair with the towel on your lap, and you being you, you stared to dry it for him. At that time Donghyuck felt great, it was like you were some kind of human form of a hairdryer.

Donghyuck plopped doen next to you in the couch, water dripping onto the couch. You purse your lips, looking up to Donghyuck’s wet hair, “You gonna dry it?” Your boyfriend nods, patting the green towel on top of his head. You laugh when observing the towel, it’s the one you giften to him for his 18th birthday. There was a small frog peeking out at the corner and Donghyuck adored it.

The boy sighs, suddenly resting his head on your thighs. You assume he wants you to do it, so you gently start tot rub the top of his head with the material. Donghyuck peeks one eye open in surprise, humming im delight when you start to run your fingers through his damp hair. You grin at his reaction, bringing the towel uo to dry the ends of his hair.

You carefully dance your palms against his cheeks, making sure you don’t press too hard. Donghyuck turns his head to the side, placing a peck onto the pad of your thumb, as a gesture of thanks, you guess, and you kiss his cheek in return.

It’s evenings like this he longs, just calming moments with each other before all the stress comes and drowns you two. Just the most simple gestures warms his heart and awakens the knowledge that everything is going to be alright.

You continue your work peacefully, soon massaging his scalp and fluffing his hair up. Donghyuck let’s out a breath of relief, burying his head to your stomach. The material of the sweater you use is somehow so comforting, almost lulling him to sleep.

You run your hands through his head one more time, before grabbing the frog towel and ruffle his hair softly, “There we go, all nice and fluffy.” You mumble, fiddling with the short hairs on the nape of his neck. Donghyuck looks back up at you, a little smile soon appearing on his lips. He reaches up, pecking you shortly, before completely falling asleep on your lap.

Since then Donghyuck has always waited for you to come find him with damp hair and the frog towel, innocently asking you to dry it. Unbeknownst to him, you absolutely adore drying and taking care of his hair, it showed that he trusted you enough to let you do whatever you wanted. And plus, his hair was just really soft and you love playing with it.

There was this one time you came back home after a long day of hanging out with your friends and as soon as you opened the door Donghyuck attacted you with hugs and shoving his wet hair into your neck, inviting you to come in and dry it for him. As much as it was a habit, he likes to say it’s a silent agreement, which you agreed to as well.

————————————————————————————————————————

Going out with comfortable clothes

When it comes to Donghyuck, he used to want to go out looking extravagant and show stopping, with style that wpuld have everyone staring at him, but after hanging out with you countless of times, he soon chose to wear sweaters and sandals when going out with you.

The first time he went out in comfortable clothes he felt more confident, which he thought was really strange because if you look better you should feel better as well, right?

“Hyuck have you seen my-“ You walk into Donghyuck’s room, surprised to see him wearing skinny jeans and a leather jacket, your cheeks slowly heating up. “Seen what, babe?” He asked, adjusting the collar of his jacket. He turns in confusion when you don’t reply, eyes widening when he notices you’re only in leggings and one of his hoodies.

“What?” Donghyuck asks, tilting his head at your flustered form. You snap out of your daze, meeting Donghyuck’s eyes, “H-huh? Oh- no- uh you just seem really dressed, I mean we’re going grocery shopping, right?” Hyuck nods, shrugging, “Yeah, that’s why I’m all dressed up... do I not look good?”

You shake your head, and point a finger at him, “No, you look really good. It’s just- what’s better than feeling confident comfortably? And besides, you’re already hot! What’s more boyfriend material than the classic hoodie and sweats?” You reassure, patting Donghyuck’s cheeks.

The young adult smirks, reaching out to catch the swinging hoodie drawstrings on his hoodie you wore, “Should we match then? Wearing my hoodies?” You look down and recognize the piece of clothing as in fact, Donghyuck’s, sheepishly looking up and mumbling a small apology.

That afternoon Donghyuck didn’t think abour how he looked, he didn’t care what people thought, he was confident comfortably next to you, he felt like he was the luckiest person in the world just because he had you to reassure him and hype him up.

After that, whenever he goes out, whether it’s with you or with his friends, he goes out in comfort and not quality, why would he want to attract attention when he has endless amounts right at home where you were?

In the beginning that was the reason, but after some time being comfortable brought out his true personalities and he became so much happier. He was often self conscious and insecure, but his friends and family, including you, were always there to stop him from doubting himself. And now he feels carefree and unbothered to the worlds opinions, which made all his loved ones proud.

————————————————————————————————————————

Good morning and good night kisses

This habit developed after you craved a good morning kiss one day, which made Donghyuck completely melt and give you multiple morning, afternoon, evening, and night kisses. It was just one whole day with Hyuck’s lips either in yours or your skin. Very blissful and has to be your favorite part of the day.

When you wake up, the first thing you see is Hyuck’s bare and beautiful sunkissed face, and you couldn’t be happier to wake up to this. He seems to be scrolling through twitter, one arm thrown under your head. Your arms looping around his waist informed him that you were awake, and he smiled at you dearly.

You lift it, so then he can retract his arm comfortably, but instead Donghyuck bends his elbow and drags you closer. You smile and stay right there, savoring the moment as it is rare, Donghyuck usually has to go to work really early in the morning.

Nothing could be more perfect for you, his smiling face, the peaceful morning, warm atmosphere, it just couldn’t get any better than this. But there was one thing you really wanted to try with Donghyuck.

You pucker your lips out dramatically to him, which grazes his cheek and jaw, “Good morning kiss,” you mumble through pulled lips. Your boyfriend laughs at the sight, throwing his head back into the headboard. You stop puckering yor lips, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, “What?”

“You’re absolutely adoreable!” Donghyuck cooed, squishing your face with his hands. You grimace once he doesn’t give you a kiss, turning around turning away from him pettily. Your boyfriend laughs at your disappointment, climbing over your body and flopping to the other side, “Hello,” he mumbles right into your face.

You grumble back a greeting, closing your eyes and pushing your face into the pillow in hopes to make Hyuck feel guilty. It obviously doesn’t work, because a smile is itching to pull your lips up when he glides his finger’s up your shirt to tickle your sides. You stifle in a scream of giddiness, and grab Donghyuck’s hands, and then fail as his fingers graze your stomach.

“HYUCK! OKAY PLEASE HYUCK STOPPPP!” You are now pushing Donghyuck’s shoulders away from your body, but keep going down to your body to shield it, you don’t know what to do, push or defend. In the end you only laugh and giggle, screaming Donghyuck’s name.

He eases down the tickling when he sees tears streaming down your pulled cheeks, his own smile shining. You stop laughing, your cheekbones sore frim all the smiling, and yet you still muster a small smile to Donghyuck. He aoftens and melts when you start to play and run your fingers through his hair, leaning into your touch.

“So are you gonna give me that kiss or not?” You ask quietly. Hyuck smiles and lowers his head to lean his forehead oto yours, “Only if I get to give you afternoon, evening, and night kisses as well.” And with a lift of your head your morning wish is granted, and a bad sleep schedule for Hyuck is born.

That kiss changed his routine completely, wasting arohnd a total of an hour just for kissing you. Which actually resulted into a really bad sleep schedule that even you comolain about, but despite loosing sleep, it’s worth stealing a lot more kisses from you, and he’s a lot happier.

#neoturtles #lee donghyuck fluff #lee haechan #lee donghyuck imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #lee donghyuck #nct 127 #nct 2020

[collecting-stories]

103 & 125 with Rafe please 💗💗

I know 125 is “You’re so perfect and I’m so fucking lucky.” But I broke it into two sentences cause I felt like it fit better.

-

You shifted in your seat, trying to press your mouth to your wrist in an attempt to not look completely uncivilized as the too-big-for-your-mouth bite of breakfast sandwich you took threatened to turn your cheeks into a chipmunk’s. When you looked up, Rafe was sitting back in his seat, staring right at you so casually that you felt anxiety bubble in your stomach.

“Can I help you?” You finally asked, after swallowing the bite and setting the sandwich back onto your plate. “Why are you staring at me?”

He shrugged his shoulders, bottom lip protruding as he tried not to smile, “admiring your ability to pack away that egg and cheese bagel.” He joked, trying not to laugh when you threw you bunched up napkin at him.

“Not that I need to justify my eating habits to you, Cameron, but I’m starving. Someone promised me dinner like eight hours ago.” You replied, looking poignantly at your boyfriend.

The clock on the wall of the old diner was in sync with your phone, reading almost 3am. You and Rafe had spent nearly two hours going back and forth over dinner options on what was technically the night before, his refusal to agree to pizza ultimately ruining any chances you had of take-out. You’d settled for a bowl of popcorn and some snacks instead, but after finishing your movie night with Birds of Prey the craving for a breakfast sandwich was enough that you drove to the closest 24-hour diner to have one.

He ordered a plate of fries and a strawberry shake and both of you tried to ignore the two older women behind the counter that kept looking your way and whispering.

“If you’d eased up on your insane need to eat pizza every Friday like some kind of ritual we gotten something.” He replied, tossing a fry toward you. It landed among the others on your plate that had come as a side but you hadn’t touched yet. Breakfast sandwich first.

“You act like I’m the most high maintenance person you’ve ever dated.”

“You? High maintenance?” He teased, laughing at you when you tried to kick his leg under the booth. “You’re so perfect.”

“Shut up Rafe, let me eat my breakfast sandwich without you harassing me.” You took another bit of your sandwich, trying not to laugh when a glob of cheese fell out onto the plate beneath you.

Rafe leaned across the table, grabbing a fry off your plate and using it to scoop up the cheese, “hey, I’m not even joking,” he replied, “I know I’m so fucking lucky, believe me.”

You scrunched up your face as if you were disturbed by his words but he could see the smile you were fighting off, “You’re so sappy at 3am, I need like a disclaimer that you might not be an asshole for five seconds.”

“Hilarious.”

“Hey, if I fit this whole last bite in my mouth will you still love me?” You joked, holding up the last bite and a half of sandwich left.

“Only if you can do it Hot Dog eating Champion style,” he said, pushing the glass of water he’d gotten toward you.

“Ew, no, I don’t want your love anymore. I’ve moved on.”

“Unbelievable.”

You finished off the last bite and a half in two, leaning back against the vinyl booth and watching Rafe take an exaggerated final sip of his milkshake, slurping whatever was left in the metal cup.

“Hey,” you called, gaining his attention, “you’re pretty perfect too Cameron.”

He smiled and you beamed back at him, the 3am trip to the diner exceedingly worth it.

#obx drabble

[fromcainwithlove]

this is because i chatted with @thepavementsings about pregnant yuki and then she talked about what cravings he would have and i spiraled.

so: pregnant driver cravings for half the grid

lewis: not just meat, fast food meat. he’s so mad about it all the time. he’s going through impossible burgers at a rate previously unknown to man. makes seb stop at panda express and get the plant based orange chicken. sometimes they’re grilling outside the grocer and he just stands with his eyes closed and inhales as hard as he can.

seb: käsespätzle, exactly how his mom made it. lewis tries to bring home mac and cheese and seb loses it. that’s not even cheese, it’s POWDERED CHEESE FOOD. lewis has to call his mom and endure 20 minutes of overbearing german mother interrogation before she’ll tell him the secret ingredient.

charles: literally the most impossible things to find. it’s the middle of january, he wants a peach freshly picked from the orchard, still sun-warmed and juicy. accuses pierre of not loving him when he brings home an apricot.

pierre: doesn’t crave anything, has awful aversions instead. there’s an entire month where the sight and smell of noodles makes him want to puke?? charles has to eat dinner in the bathroom with the fan on more than once.

yuki: cereal. literally prowling the aisles, belly pushing into the cart handle, just trying to find something frosted with a ton of sugar. buys a family size box of lucky charms and eats all of the marshmallows.

daniel: shellfish, which he thinks is great because it’s not too unhealthy right? max dutifully buys him fresh shrimp and clams like three times a week and it’s fine it’s great he doesn’t mind the house smelling like the bottom of the ocean 24/7 he doesn’t mind watching daniel slurp down a dozen oysters at 6 am this is love hahaha

max: let’s be real, it’s ice cream. mostly dense chocolate flavors but he’ll go for something with caramel in it too. he eats half a pint every day weeks 20-22 and then the obgyn mentions that he’s put on a little more weight than they’d like in the second trimester and he cries. they have to find a new doctor and daniel is not allowed within 100 feet of the building for a year.

lando: anything salty. so many packets of crisps the inside of his mouth is abraded and sore. george calls him out on twitch like, did you just salt your pizza?? lando refuses to be shamed, just rubs his belly and says she gets what she wants.

alex: the spiciest stuff on earth. his mom is constantly slapping his hands away from sauces and telling him that he’s gonna make the baby come too soon, but he can’t taste anything unless it’s at an 11. the baby’s born with a little red birthmark on his shoulder and she’s like I TOLD YOU ALL THIS WOULD HAPPEN

valtteri: warm drinks with cinnamon and nutmeg and cloves. hot apple cider, spiced chocolate, decaf coffee drinks. valtteri is doing the whole pregnant goddess thing, skin glowing, cheeks pink, never has a day of sickness, takes all the multivitamins. tells pierre to drink ginger tea when he’s nauseous which is like 6 solid weeks and pierre wants to choke him but then he tries the tea and it does actually help.

and i’m very tired so that’s all i’ve got but i would love to hear thoughts on more drivers/different ideas!

#truly what has happened to my brain #gonna write this ffbb and you’re all gonna be sorry i ever found this sport #i will also be sorry probably #what do i tag this lol #mp*eg

[spooky-mister]

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Hey!

So I am definitely continuing I Am A God when I have the time, but for now, have a tooth-rotting Spiralshipping fic <3

This fic is set the morning after Zeke was supposed to meet his dad for takeout/Will claimed to be sleep training his son.

Also this is my first time writing for these characters so be nice :)

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One Of The Good Ones

Fandom: Spiral from the Book of Saw

Paring: William Schenk x Ezekiel Banks

Genre: Tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 1,545

Potential Triggers: None I'm aware of. Feel free to comment <3

Spoilers?: Yes

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One Of The Good Ones

What happened to dinner with his dad?

William Schenk slowed his steps to a stop as he gazed into the meeting room, appreciating the sight of Ezekiel Banks asleep on his work with a soft smirk of amusement. It was a good thing he was the first in. Zeke's fellow cops didn't seem like the sort to let him get away with sleeping on the job - even if they weren't worth half of Zeke's integrity and dedication. Will sniffed, glancing over his shoulder before slinging a large flask of coffee under his arm and meandering over to the table. He shuffled to a stop beside Zeke's sleeping form before huffing a laugh and tapping the detective's shoulder.

"Hey, Banks," He mumbled, voice gruff with fading sleep. His schedule didn't leave much room for rest. "Wake up, partner."

Zeke reacted with a near comedic intensity, dragging an audible laugh from Will as the rookie took a step back. Zeke cried out and thrashed his arms, soon setting his eyes up on Will with a mix of relief and embarrassment.

"Shit, Man - don't do that!" Zeke scolded, running his fingers through his rough hair. "Never wake a man while he's sleeping! Jeez…"

"Yeah, well… Better me than Fitch," Will retorted in good humour, hesitating before setting himself down next to Zeke. "Are you okay? What happened to dinner with your dad?"

"Old man cancelled on me," Zeke explained as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. He looked exhausted, Will noticed. How long had he been sleeping? “Came back in to work the case. Must have gotten too comfortable."

“You could have called,” Will offered with a frown, setting down his flask and letting his bag slide off of his shoulder. “We could have worked the case together.”

“What about sleep training?” Zeke muttered in response, eyes drifting to Will. Will paused at that. Right. His… Family. He didn’t have time to retort before Zeke spoke again. “You worked hard yesterday - you deserved a night off. Enjoy your family while they last.”

“You’re just a beacon of romance and optimism, aren’t you,” Will teased, appreciating the glimmer of a smirk received in return. “Well… Thanks. Did you at least get to eat last night?” Zeke’s hesitation didn’t seem to bode well for Will’s throw-away concern. Will arched a thick brow. "...Zeke?"

"I was gonna order something in," Zeke reasoned. "I left the takeout my dad ordered at his place so he had somethin' when he got back. But then I guess I-"

"Fell asleep," Will finished for him, taking in the sigh and the nod as Zeke started shuffling through papers again. Will was feeling oddly involved in this minor inconvenience. Why did he feel so compelled to take the mantle of caretaker? Zeke was an adult. Older than him, even. But Will felt the draw to guard and care for his partner as a skilled gardener would cultivate a flower they planned to pluck. "Well, that's no good. How are you supposed to lead an investigation on an empty stomach?"

"Jeez, mom - I don't know," Zeke huffed a laugh, looking Will over. "What's got in your head all of a sudden - I can take care of myself." Clearly. "If you hold the fort, I'll run out 'n grab a… Coffee and grilled cheese or somethin'."

"No need," Will sighed as he hiked his satchel up onto his lap. He could see Zeke's puzzled expression as he rifled through before drawing a plastic tupperware - still beaded with hot steam. He hadn't been able to let it cool before leaving for work. He sniffed and set it in front of Zeke with a fork and his tall flask. "...Homemade frittata," He explained with a gesture of his hand towards the box. He smirked at Zeke's baffled expression. "I made it for me, but… Y'know, I actually ate last night."

"...Nah," Zeke shook his head, pushing the food back towards Will. "I ain't eating your breakfast, Schenk. I-" He paused when Will put a firm hand on the tupperware, locking eyes as the younger detective slowly slid it back in front of him. He bit his tongue before letting out a sigh and popping the lid off of the plastic. "Thanks," He muttered, taking hold of the fork and poking around the fried egg and vegetables.

Will watched Zeke's apprehension with muted amusement for a moment before speaking up. "It's egg," He explained. "Egg, cheese, spinach, garlic… It's nothing bad, Zeke. I'm not trying to trick you." He got a kick out of the look of minor embarrassment on Zeke's face, chuckling.

"I didn't…" Zeke went to defend himself before sighing and scooping a large piece of frittata onto his fork. "Thanks, Schenk." He shovelled it into his mouth, chewing it with a hum.

"Will, please," Will reasoned, watching the detective's changing expression with a growing smirk. The 'Mmm' sealed the deal as Zeke wiped his mouth with a hand and reached for the flask. "Good?"

"Shit, man - that's… You made that?" Zeke raised his eyebrows and pointed at the frittata. He was baffled at Will's confirmation. "Jeez… You really are the full package, huh? Your wife must love you."

"Yeah… Maybe," Will mused with a smile, admiring Zeke as the man ate. Part of him wondered why he'd even developed that lie… It just created one more barrier between himself and Zeke. But he couldn't go back on it now. "Maybe I can cook for you again sometime."

Zeke hummed in agreement, slurping down the breakfast with only half a mind on his manners. "Haven't had many homemade meals since mom left," Zeke explained between mouthfuls, sensing Will's sudden tension. "Knew the number for the pizza place before I was potty trained."

"Just… You and your dad as well, huh?" Will mumbled, watching Zeke closely. "Yeah… I know how that is. But my dad wasn't… Around much by the time I got to middle school - I learned to take care of myself." Was that giving away too much about himself? No… If anything, it was pulling Zeke closer. He could tell by the familiar concern in the detective's eyes.

Zeke floundered for a response for a moment. He was never good at conversations like this. The feelings were difficult to process… So instead he turned his attention back to his meal. He scooped up a forkful and switched his gaze to Will. "You wanna share?" He asked, an attempt to change the subject. "Today will be pretty intense… You wanna get fuelled up."

Will moved to hesitate, but… this was a moment of tenderness. Of sincerity. He could tell this was Zeke’s way of letting his guard down, so he smiled. "Sure," He agreed, leaning towards the fork. Zeke seemed taken aback by the movement, clearly expecting Will to take the fork, but he quickly adjusted - moving the fork to Will's mouth and watching the young detective take it into his mouth. It was weirdly intimate… Or maybe it had just been a while.

Will pulled off of the fork and knitted his brows, chewing through the mouthful of warm eggs. He shrugged slightly and reached for his flask to wash it down. "I've made better," He commented before flooding the taste out with coffee. He tried not to focus on Zeke’s scoff.

"Made better, huh?" Zeke muttered, turning his gaze away from Will and digging his fork into the tub. "Might have to prove that one, man - this is pretty fuckin' good…"

Will perked up at that and smirked. "...Are you inviting yourself round for breakfast, Detective Banks?" Will teased, biting back a laugh as he watched Zeke's face drop. He let Zeke fight for a retort for a moment before shaking his head. "I know what you meant." Will was just indulging in a little wishful thinking.

Zeke cleared his throat, pushing around the rest of his breakfast with a fork before offering it back towards Will. "Uh… Thanks, Schenk. I needed that." He offered before getting to his feet. He could feel a growing, undefined tension between them… And he wasn't a fan.

"Will… please," Will corrected, licking his lips as he watched Zeke readying himself to leave - probably to get his own cup of coffee. But… Will didn't want him to leave. He swallowed dryly, leaving Zeke to gather up his jacket and step away from the desk before quickly reaching for the man's wrist. He met Zeke's puzzled expression with apprehension. He… Wasn't completely sure why he'd done that. "I'm… Glad you enjoyed the frittata. Sorry." He moved to pull his hand away.

Zeke smirked, chuckling softly and reaching to playfully ruffle his young partner's hair. "Man, don't say sorry…" He hesitated before leaning over and delicately pressing a kiss to Will's head. "You're one of the good ones, Will… Now get to work."

Will bubbled into giggles as Zeke gently batted the back of his head on his way out, unable to stop the colour in his cheeks or the grin on his lips. Shit - did Zeke really just… He felt like a giddy school girl. And as he glanced back to watch Zeke leave, he could have sworn that he saw a smile to match his own on the senior detective's face.

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#spiralshipping #spiral #saw #saw series #saw franchise #william schenk #zeke banks #ezekiel banks #spiral from the book of saw #spiral spoilers #will x zeke #zeke x will #fan fiction #fanfiction #fluff

[reine-du-sourire]

Pizza Night (a Lunar Chronicles tale)

“Oh, Jacin, this is wonderful!” Winter breathed. “What is it?”

“It’s pizza,” Thorne said helpfully and loudly. “It’s what you get for dinner when your cooking bombs. And aces, you should've seen-”

A sudden, abrupt yelp swallowed the rest of his sentence. Jacin pursed his lips. Wolf carefully lifted another slice from the box, rolled it up, and stuffed it whole into his mouth.

"I wish I'd know how much you like this," Scarlet said, smiling as she took another bite of her own piece. "When we get back to the farm, I'll pay Gilles a visit and persuade him to add it to the menu."

"Could we try a different kind next time?" Cress asked eagerly. "So far Carswell and I have tried the vegetable, anchovy, extra-cheese, really-really-really-extra cheese but I think that was a dare and he got sick for-"

"Why is everyone ganging up on me tonight?" Thorne complained. "This whole thing was my idea-"

"Actually, I believe it was Kai's." Cinder took a long and unqueenly slurp of her drink. "And technically Jacin decided we were doing it. How long until the kitchen in the suite clears out of smoke?"

"I don't know," Jacin said through gritted teeth. Winter licked a string of cheese from her chin.

"It's delicious. The perfect anniversary dinner. Do the royal Americans eat it?"

Cinder almost choked. Kai patted her on the back.

"There aren't any American royals. This is pretty common food."

"Really? But it tastes so delicious!"

"Thank you," Iko huffed, crossing her arms.

"My apologies, Iko-friend."

Cinder wiped her mouth with a napkin, looking at Jacin. "Out of curiosity, what were you trying to make?"

"Nothing."

"You were trying to cook something?" Winter giggled.

"No."

"For our anniversary? Oh, Jacin!"

"No."

Thorne opened his mouth, and promptly closed it at the look on the guard's face.

#jacin clay #the lunar chronicles #tlc #emperor kaito #winter hayle #carswell thorne #linh cinder #cinder #scarlet benoit #wolf kesley #ze'ev kesley #iko #marissa meyer #pizza night #pizza #the rampion crew

[whatissleepeven]

Hey heyyy!~ I hope you're having a good day, Legend! May I request the brothers reacting to MC making a whole meal at like 3am because they slept through dinner and got real hungry,,, Please remember to take good care of yourself!

This ask made me go the humor route with the hcs I'm sorry -

And thank you, I will!! I hope you're doing the same, Dean!

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

Obey Me demon brothers reacting to MC making a whole-ass meal at 3am

Lucifer

Lucifer.exe has stopped working

First you skip dinner, and now you're eating at unholy hours of the morning??

On a school day???

11/10 disappointed and a little angry

"And just what do you think you're making at..." *checks his watch because he will not be caught looking anything but prim and proper* "...three in the morning?"

You stop stirring the pot, looking at him as if you were dead inside. Which, at three a.m., you were. "Mac n' cheese. There's chicken in the oven." You state bluntly. "You want any?"

Lucifer's a bit taken aback at your lack of formality with him, but he finds it...strangely endearing. With a sigh that pierced his very soul, he leaned against the counter next to you.

There's a twitch of his lips, as if he's trying hard to not smile. "I'll have to decline this time."

You drained the pot of noodles into the strainer, giving it a good few shakes as you eyed the oven. "So, next time then?"

He frowned, crossing his arms as he glared. "There won't be a next time, now will there?"

You gulped. You forgot exactly who you were talking to due to your stomach currently dying of agony, but his tone quickly reminded you. "Y-Yeah, there won't be! Promise!"

You were going to break that promise and he knew it. Opting to ignore it for now, he glanced at the oven as the aroma of chicken began to fill the kitchen. "Where did you even find a chicken, anyways?"

"I went to Hell's Kitchen with Beel to find out if they had human food. Asked them where they got it from, and how." You shrugged. "Process of deduction."

"I see..." Is all that he said, watching you flit around the kitchen to make yourself a plate. You cut the chicken, happily adding it to your pile of mac n' cheese.

"Beel, it's ready!" You call out, startling him a bit. He pinches his brow as the sound of footsteps rapidly approached the kitchen, a starry-eyed Beel making his own plate.

He really should've expected this.

"Please don't make this a habit, you two."

He'll let it slide for now, and punish you later on in the day. How could he tell you off when you looked so happy eating a human meal with one of his brothers?

Mammon

All he wanted was to grab a Devil Dew from the fridge. Seriously, that's it.

It was dark, so he flicked on the light switch and shrieked yelled once he saw you casually eating big ziti at the counter.

He has questions, but more importantly...

"What the devil are ya doing, eatin' in the dark?!"

You narrowed your eyes at him, jabbing your fork in his direction.

"Either turn off the light or grab some ziti. I made extra."

Well, it...did look good. It must've been human food from the package you had shipped to the House earlier.

“...Alright, human, but just this once!”

It does not become “just this once”

He took a seat next to you, piling some ziti onto his plate and taking a bite. To be honest, he had peeked into your room to see if you were still asleep and panicked once he saw no one inside, so he spent a solid five minutes running through the entire House to catch even a glimpse of you. 

The frantic energy burnt made him thirsty, so he decided to take a break and come to the kitchen and holy shit this is actually really good -

“...Oi. What’s this made out of?”

- And that’s how he discovered his crippling addiction to cheese.

Seriously he’ll ask you if you’re making ziti whenever it’s your turn to cook

“Sorry if I startled you too bad.” You laughed quietly, watching as he scooped more onto his plate with an awed look in his eyes. “You like the ziti?”

A fork was shoved in your face, close to touching your nose. “The Great Mammon doesn’t get startled, ya hear? A-And yeah...this isn’t half-bad.”

Not gonna lie, you were a bit surprised when he actually sat down to eat ziti with you, but in the words of Beel: “Food always tastes better when you’re eating with friends.”

Even though he has the fattest crush on you but we don’t talk about that here

In the end, you smiled softly at him. “Then let’s do this again sometime.”

“Oh HELL YEAH!!” He cheered, and you knew that you couldn’t ever say no to him. 

Especially not with what he added afterwards in a quieter voice. 

“Just...make sure to eat dinner with all of us too, got it?”

Leviathan

“Is this like that one episode of Demfeed: Unsolved where they tried to put aggro on the spirits by eating their favorite dish at 3 in the morning?!”

You...hated that you knew what he was talking about. The two of you would watch that show whenever you were finished with an anime binge, and you were usually laughing at your own commentary (and theirs) than paying actual attention to the process of catching a ghost. Instead, you just slowly brought the spoon to your lips and slurped up some more cereal.

“...If I tell you yes, then will you turn off the light?”

You swear that you have never seen this shut-in otaku move that fast in your life. In one swift motion he flicked the light switch off, grabbing a turquoise bowl and pouring his own cereal.

He took a seat next to you, stars in his eyes as he began to eat. 

“Let’s summon them together!”

And who were you to say no? You were glad that he didn’t bring up the fact that you basically skipped dinner, content to have this quiet time with you in the present.

You lightly shoved his shoulder with a snort. “Let’s hope that we don’t end up accidentally summoning Lucifer instead.”

“Who will be summoning me, exactly?”

You and Levi freeze. Slowly, you both turn to see the eldest brother standing in one of the doorways with his arms crossed and a murderous look on his face.

The tight smile he gave could bury you both six feet under. “It’s good to see you up and about after skipping dinner. Are you making up for lost time?”

Levi nudged you. You side-eyed him.

Without warning you threw your spoon to the ground and yelled.

“SCATTER!!”

And just like Ratatouille, you both bolted out of the kitchen with an angry Lucifer on your heels. You and Levi didn’t get caught, but the next morning you two had to sit and listen to one of Lucifer’s lectures at the dining table.

- You ended up missing breakfast.

(All it takes is the whisper of that one blessed word, and the two of you would devolve into a fit of laughter. Levi still joins you for your “Cursed Meal Runs”, as he dubbed it.)

Satan

He had seen the light on in the kitchen and wondered just who, exactly, would be up at this time??

Especially on a school night day???

(Actually he assumed it was Beel, but it didn’t hurt to go and check it out just in case it was an intruder, now did it?)

“What is- Oh. I see.”

(As you can tell, he immediately gets what’s going on the minute he spots you eating pizza like it’s the end of the world.)

There’s an amused smile on his face as he sits down across from you. “You’ve finally decided to eat something?”

You swallow the food in your mouth, glancing between him and the takeout box you had delivered from Hell’s Kitchen. “I can’t help it that Belphie wanted a sleepover in the middle of the afternoon! ...Okay, I can help it a little, but still; whenever we sleep, I’m dead to the world for the rest of the day.”

He hums in agreement, knowing the power of his brother’s endless soft blankets and squishy but just right pillows. “Instead of making something yourself, you chose to order pizza?”

You put another slice onto your plate, and was- yep, half the box is already gone. You must’ve been really hungry, he thought. “I just had a craving for it and it hits different at night- hey, stop laughing!”

He couldn’t help it. You were just full of surprises, weren’t you? But that’s what made you endearing to him.

He covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle the noise, eyes softening into something more intimate once they fell on your face again. “Forgive me, you just caught me by surprise. Do you mind if I take a slice? Thank you. Since we’re here, I wanted to talk to you about the show you recommended to me... Fringe, was it? I watched the first episode, and let me say...”

Your late-night (early morning) rendezvous ended up feeling like a date. Then again, anything you do with Satan ends up feeling like a date.

(He also lightly scolded you for missing out on dinner with them because it wasn’t a healthy habit to get into, but he hinted at wanting to do this again sometime with you. Overall, he wasn’t actually mad at you.)

...

(Though, the pizza was delicious. Was it because you were with him? You two would have to order it again sometime soon to “test his theory”.)

Asmodeus

Let me be honest, this man is big on his beauty sleep.

Also, he sleeps like the dead.

However, there was one night where he just...could not sleep.

So he went to go rinse some water into his face in hopes of getting out of this stupor when he heard a rustle from the kitchen.

“...-za! Pasta! Put it in a booooooox!!”

...Was that supposed to be singing??

He peeked his head into the kitchen to see you stirring a pot, quietly singing some horrendous song that you no doubt had shown Levi.

“What in the world are you cooking to make you sing like that?”

Asmo’s voice made you jump a little. With a smile you beckoned him over, only after making him promise to be quiet so that you both didn’t incur Lucifer’s wrath.

“I’m making pasta from Mammon’s frozen Hellsauce Noodles. Uh...don’t tell him.”

Look me in the eyes and tell me this man isn’t a prankster. He literally tried to get you to snap a picture of Lucifer sleeping.

He gave you a wide smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, don’t worry; I won’t tell a soul...as long as I can have some, of course!”

- Well. This is rare. Asmo almost never has food at a cursed hour like this, much less spicy food. You nod your head over at an empty seat, telling him to just take your plate.

Once it’s done, you both take a minute to chat as it cools down.

“-nd then he threatened to switch my nail polish out for paint. Actual paint!”

...Isn’t nail polish just paint for your nails? But you kept that thought to yourself, letting the disgruntled demon gripe about a certain shady sorcerer.

Having a late-night meal with Asmo was fun and pretty chill, considering that he didn’t attempt to make one R-Rated joke while you ate. It must’ve been because he was tired, but you were leaning more towards the fact that this must be what Asmo was like when he let his guard down.

It was...nice.

“...Thanks for this, Asmo.”

Asmo smiled like he knew what you meant, but then again...maybe he did.

“Of course, love! Oh, but don’t skip out on dinner again you hear? It’s bad for your health to miss a meal.”

Beelzebub

Hungry boi already knows that you’re making a meal before even you know you’re making a meal

You were getting the pots and pans out to make a feast for yourself when you turned around and nearly screamed. Beel was peeking around the corner, staring at you with intent as his stomach rumbled.

“...What are you making?”

Once you calm yourself, you smile and beckon him over. “I planned on making a big breakfast. I may have missed dinner, but this is one meal I wouldn’t miss for the world!”

You didn’t tell him it was because it reminded you of home, with your loved ones (be it friends or family or, even, just you and your pets). You set to work whipping up some French Toast and bacon, having on numerous occasions to lightly swat Beel’s hands away from the food.

He does end up helping you, though. He tries his best, but he sneaks a sausage from the plate when you aren’t looking.

He thinks he’s being sneaky.

(You know. You still let him do it.)

“Beel, can you pull the biscuits out of the oven?”

“Sure.”

It’s a comfortable silence as you two put together a breakfast feast fit for kings. You ended up making more than you initially were due to Beel’s appetite, but seeing the awestruck look (which was accompanied by a wide smile) on his face as he took a bite of French Toast was worth the extra work.

“I take it you like it?”

He gives you a puppy-eyed look. “...Can we have this later today?”

And, really, could you ever say no to Beel when he asks so sweetly?

You laugh as you take a bite out of your biscuit, eyeing the oven because the last thing you had put in were the cinnamon rolls. “Of course. We should still have enough to do this one more time.”

He beams, going to town on the rest of the food. The whole scene is so domestic that you almost miss his next words.

“Just...don’t skip dinner again. It’s just as important as breakfast, and I like seeing you eat with us.”

- And just like that, you promise him to not skip dinner again if you can help it. The two of you do continue to make small meals at unholy hours of the morning, though, much to the ire of Lucifer.

(Also, whenever Beel is making his midnight runs to the fridge, he now drags you along to see if you’d make something. Whenever you do, he’s overjoyed and giving you all the hugs for your hard work.)

Belphegor

...Listen

Listen -

Homeboi sleeps most of the day away. He’s probably the reason you missed dinner in the first place.

“...I should’ve expected this, really.”

You whirl on him, your dominant hand not once stopping in its stirring. Even though it was early in the morning (not even Levi was up), you had a bright look in your eyes.

Your stomach rumbled loud enough for both of you to hear. Belphie raised an eyebrow, the edges of his lips curling into an amused smile.

You coughed awkwardly. “Listen, do you want chicken noodle soup or not?”

He doesn’t eat, but he does watch you bustle around the kitchen with a soft look in his eyes. Something about the whole scene was comforting, and for once he didn’t feel like falling asleep.

“Soup soup soup soup soup soup soup...!” You chanted quietly, bouncing from foot to foot as if it’d prepare the food faster. He chuckled at your enthusiasm, resting his head on his beloved cow-printed pillow as he stared.

“It’s done!!” You whisper-shout, all but slamming the bowl down as you took a seat next to him.

Belphie glanced over at you in amusement. “Is this going to become a common thing with you?” He questioned, keeping a straight face even as you scowled at him.

“You know the exact reason why I’m here in the first place. Just so you know I’m starving, Sleeping Beauty, so please excuse me as I down this piping hot soup like it’s the end of the world.”

That actually forced a snort out of him, shifting to instead lean his head on your shoulder. “C’mon, you don’t mean that. Why don’t you come sleep with me? It’s too early to be eating, anyways.”

You poke his side with your free hand. “Watch it, mister. Again, why do you think I’m here in the first place?”

He said nothing after that, closing his eyes with a small smile. Even though it was early, he wasn’t particularly annoyed; if anything, he felt...at peace.

He didn’t condone you for missing dinner, especially if it meant that he’d get more tranquil moments like this.

For now, though...let this peace last just a bit longer.

#long post #oh wow it's long #thank you for the ask!! #thank you for the ask dean!! #i tried to make them all around the same length #i'm sorry this took so long! #you: can i have some hcs? #me: oh yeah I'll be done soon :) #also me: *basically writing small fics for it* #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me shall we date #obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me requests #obey me mc #gn reader #om swd #swd om #deanobeanoqueero

[skylarmoon71]

AU Leonardo x Blind Murdock Reader:(TMNT 2014/2016) Chapter 8 (B) Final

“Mikey I told you not to eat next to the console!!”

You’ve lost count of how many times he’s warned the male about what cheese does to the system. Mikey slurps up the pizza, raising his hands.

“Waft Pizza!”

Guilty as charged.

Hearing them argue is routine now. You love it. Something so simple meant a whole lot.

After greeting all three brothers, you're headed to the dojo. It’s your ritual. Leo is almost always there, or tending to his little tree. You have no idea what type. Lack of sight kind of did that. You could have just asked him, but you never really. You liked how calm he’d be when he was trimming it. It was soothing. Your hands graze over the walls as you walk through. Upon getting to your destination, you stop at the entrance, listening for the rhythms of his breathing. It’s slow, controlled. From your spot, you can tell he’s sitting.

“(Y/N).” you smile. You’re not sure if his eyes are open or not. But you're assuming he’s just gotten so used to sensing your presence the same way you sense his. 

“Hey Leo, how was patrol last night?”

Usually you go out with the boys, but yesterday was an important day to you, and of course Leo understood that, so he didn’t press when you told him you’d be unavailable that night.

"It was pretty quiet. I think criminals are finally getting the message. Truthfully, maybe they heard daredevil moved in and they decided to switch careers. “ you snicker.

“What can I say, I have a reputation.”

“Yes you do.”

He wasn’t wrong, crime was at an all time low. Maybe you did instill a bit of fear in the city’s criminals. Leo watches you keenly, and he notices the look on your face. It’s adorable, they way you seem to fidget when you want to ask a question, but unsure of how to go about it. He can’t help but feel honored. You’re far different from the girl he met a few months ago. He can barely believe that it’s the same person.

You seemed so cold at the start, but he knows that was just a front. A barrier to protect yourself. Getting to know you was one of the most amazing things he realized. Watching you slowly become a part of his family, rather than the warrior or vigilante everyone else saw. He was the only one who got to see this side of you. It was weirdly empowering for him. To be someone you trusted, cared about.

“Leo..” Looks like you’d finally worked up the courage to ask your question.

“Yes?”

You take a step inside, and Leo just sits there, admiring you. He knows it’s bad but sometimes he’s glad you're blind. If you saw how often he’d stare at you, you’d probably be a little weirded out. But he can’t help it. In his eyes, you’re just so radiant.

“This might be a little weird but I..well a few weeks ago I was talking with the boys and Donnie pointed out that I’d have a general idea of what you guys look like through my hands. So they let me touch their faces, you know you walked in on it.” you give a nervous chuckle, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“I was just wondering if maybe I can..touch your face?”

He swallows. That might not be such a good idea. He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he’d have if you touched him. So far he hadn’t had any troubles. When you asked for more time, he respected that. Hell he was so grateful that you were honest with him about what you wanted. It was easy for him to wait, as long as he kept you at a safe distance he’d be fine. Until now that is.

“Sure.” He replied. “Come on, don’t make it obvious.” He had to mentally calm himself down.

That cute little smile graced your lips again, and you moved closer, taking a seat right in front of him. Your knees touched, and you raised your head. You could hear his heart so clearly. Ever harsh thump against his rib cage.

“He’s nervous.”

You made him nervous. A little fluttery feeling erupted in your stomach at the realization. Opening your palms, you reached for him slowly. The minute your hands touched his skin, you could feel the temperature rise in the room. The air felt thick, but not in a suffocating or uncomfortable way, more like anticipation. Your fingers glide softly over his cheeks, up to his forehead, then back down, sifting past the mask. You grin when you get to his nose.

“Gosh do all of you have a cute little nose.” Leo’s eyes light up. Was it just him or were you actually gushing, at his nose of all things.

“I can’t imagine Raph talking too well to you calling him cute. “

“Oh he didn’t.” Leo laughs softly and you're still venturing over his face curiously, you’re trying to map out as much as you can. When your thumbs brush just below his mask this time, somehow your touch feels different. It elicits a strange feeling throughout his body now.

“What color are your eyes?” you say it just above a whisper, and he takes another breath before he answers.

“Their blue.”

“Blue…” you can picture it. He’s almost certain you're finished, but then your thumb lands on his lips. You brush his lower lip, and he’s frozen solid. He’s afraid to move, because if he does, there’s no telling what he’ll do.

“Your lips are so soft Leo.” you really were testing his will now.

“(Y/N).” His strained tone has an instant response. Goosebumps rise on your skin.

“I’m ready.”

His forehead creases. Did he hear that right?

“I’m ready Leo.”

You can tell it’s not what he expects, and you’re thankful for him. After the talk you had, Leo never pushed. He respected your need for space and time to figure things out. He didn’t walk around like a kicked puppy either, or ignore you. He was still the same sweet guy you’d fallen for. The one you supposed you’d been waiting for.

“I want us to be..something more. I care about you so much and in the time that I’ve met you, I generally enjoy so many things now. I look forward to waking up in the morning, even going to school because I know when I get back I get to see you guys, I get to see you Leo. You’re the highlight of my day. You make me feel so safe and secure and cared for and weightless. When you’re around I don’t have to worry because I know you’re looking out for me, you all are and I just want to return that happiness because the only conclusion I’ve come up with is that the only way for me to possibly be happier than I already am...it’s to be with you. “

The one thing that’s running through his head right now is that he prays that this isn’t some dream. Because if it is, he wouldn’t mind sleeping forever. He doesn’t say a word, and when he shifts forward, your hands drop from his lips, and land on his chest.

“L-Le-”

He can’t control himself anymore, his lips find your own, and you blush. You were right, his lips are so freaking soft. This kiss, it’s filled with every needy stare, labored breath, intense heartbeat. You know he’s been dying to do this, probably the same way you’ve been longing to feel it. You retaliate, hands wrapping around his neck as he pulls your body to him, deepening the kiss. You’re both hungry, starved is more like it.

With every desperate touch of your lips, there’s a heavy breath. His hands feel like their roaming, and you can’t stop the moan that escapes when his large palm settles on your breast. You’ve never been touched like this, or at all for that matter. Not many teenagers in your school were into the whole brooding blind thing you suppose.

And honestly, you’re glad that you never turned to sex to fill the void you’ve felt until this point. Because this moment with Leo, it feels right. His touches are intimate, and you're in the Dojo for goodness sake, anyone could walk in on your two, but your mind is too fogged by the rush of it all. The feeling of elation that rises from your chest, and goes throughout your body. Leo parts, but he doesn’t stop. He’s placing desperate kisses all over your skin. Along your neck. He pushes your hair gently to the side, and when he begins to litter little bites on your skin, you moan once again. He’s marking you. Claiming you.

“L-Leo..” he picks you up in one swift move, pulling back to watch your breathless form.

“Are you sure..this is what you want.” there’s a slight tinge of fear in his voice. You banish any doubts he has with a deep kiss. When you pull back, you're holding his cheeks in your hands.

“I’m positive Leo.”

He can breathe easy now. Because although he’s sure he’s not asleep, he needs to double check.

“I love you (Y/N).” he’s so happy he can finally tell you all that he’s been keeping to himself.

The way you glow, he knows he made the right choice. “I love you too Leo.” your eyes well up, and he stalks outside, heading for his room. He’s about to take away all your pain. Cover you in nothing but love. All night long.

#tmnt leonardo #leo x reader #blindreader #tmnt donatello #raphael #michelangelo #splinter #new york #daredevil #criminals #crimefighters #feelings #fear #hurt #trust #understanding #Self accepectance #care #family #friendship #new relationship #relationships