#of course you don’t take him seriously…… but he’s awfully persistent

[yueebby]

emperor!gojo who is big tall scary man and all of the servants fuss over him and clan elders and enemies alike fear him, but then he is reduced to nothing but a lovesick puppy around you — a servant girl.

#of course you don’t take him seriously…… but he’s awfully persistent #my brother and i had a discussion about the shogunates and i have been obsessed with TAD so :3 #i want to write this out but do ppl even read royal!aus anymore?? #kt.fantasies—!

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

here's my second request because I had this idea in the back of my head for some time;;

headcanons for joker and dagger sharing the same partner :) I seen the one for joker and beast and I thought it was amazing but now it's time for dagger 👹👹

uwaaaaah thank you~~

THEY DESERVE IT-

They’re sort of in competition… except, like, not really? It’s more playful competition than anything else, and neither of them take it too seriously. Even with Dagger being awfully possessive in general, he very much trusts that you aren’t going to up and leave him to only be with Joker. He definitely trusts Joker to tell him if there seems to be a ‘drift’ happening that he doesn’t notice, and he trusts Joker not to be selfish enough to talk you away from Dagger. Their competition is mainly them being silly and counting kisses… in the hopes of you realizing that the other person needs another kiss or two to make things even. Silly boys.

Sometimes they alternate who gets to sleep with you while the other one goes out and does business. Sometimes they both take the night off to sleep with you. Sometimes they both go out and you’ll wake up to being sandwiched between your sleeping partners who’ve apparently passed out after getting back for the night. Either way, they both seem to rest soundly around you.

Whether or not you find out the truth is up to how much they trust you and how many questions you’re willing to ask. However, they’ve never even told Snake, who they both consider family, so… it may not happen unless you stumble on it accidentally. You’re in much less danger if you don’t know, and if you’re not persistent (and maybe even if you are), both of them attempt to lead your attention elsewhere. They tell you not to worry about it, that it’s just something their father needs them to do. They talk amongst themselves a lot, trying to remind each other that they’re not hiding it from you because they don’t love or trust you… it’s just… safer for you if you’re as far from the truth as possible. Not to say they don’t hate themselves for it, but…

They’re both incredibly caring where you’re concerned, even when they’re tired. While trying to relax with you, it often happens that Joker is singing softly while Dagger does something like rub your back. Doing their best to keep you relaxed actually relaxes them, believe it or not. Often Dagger nods off a bit while Joker practically forces himself to stay awake to watch the both of you, just in case something happens.

… Do you want to be the person on that spinning wheel that Dagger throws knives at during a show? He’ll make it happen! It’s a fun test of your trust in him and his skills, because you probably won’t have any qualms about doing it if you’re sure he won’t hit you. He’s never hit anyone before outside of practice, and even then, those accidents happened pretty much when he was first starting out; it’s rare that he hits someone even during practice nowadays. He’ll completely understand if you’d rather not, of course. It’s just an idea!

In the same vein, Joker will happily let you ‘co-host’ with him during performances. He plays off you very well, bouncing comments back and forth, and he actually gives you genuine laughs if you say something he finds funny. It’s another thing he uses to spend time with you, though if you’d like your own act as well, he’s all too pleased. Just show him a talent and you’ve got a spot! (Other than being adorable. He appreciates that, but audiences usually don’t, unfortunately.)

#ofrolysdogs #Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Dagger #Joker #headcanons #romantic #poly #fluff #drama #slice of life #LOOK AT EM THEY DESERVE THIS SO MUCH #one hell of a queue

[brokenangelwings22]

Here's probably my only entry for IHweek. I've finally returned to writing. This is an excerpt from chapter 2 of my story Come Back Down to Earth. You can read the first chapter either on AO3 or FanFiction

Confession (IHweek 7/4) Please enjoy!

Chapter 2: Crawled In and Never Left

Give me the chance to tonight

I'll prove to you what's in my eyes

(It’s My Turn To Fly - The Urge - Titan AE soundtrack 2000)

Ichigo considered himself a reasonable man, but his patience was growing thin with his roommate.

“C’mon, man! You had a solid chance with Hime last night!” Renji pleaded with him. “Why are you so obtuse?”

“That’s an awfully big word for you.” Ichigo rolled his eyes at his friend. “Ever think of taking your own advice with Rukia?”

Renji let out a long suffering sigh. “You’re both hopeless, and therefore perfect for each other.”

“I’m perfectly happy with how things are with Hime. I don’t want to chance it.”

Renji pulled out a box of pretzel sticks from the cupboard. He fixed a concerned look on his face, and the seriousness unnerved Ichigo.

“Look. I’m not gonna force you. Even if I think you’re absolutely nuts not to. I will, however, point out that you’re an idiot for not telling her how you feel.” Renji pulled out a piece of pretzel and pointed it at Ichigo to emphasize his thought. “You’re gonna lose her one day if you continue to be ridiculous.”

Ichigo narrowed his eyes as his scowl persisted. “You think I am not aware of that?”

Renji placed the stick between his teeth and grinned toothily. “Yup!”

A sleepy noise came from behind the two men just as Ichigo opened his mouth to snap at his friend.

“Mm morning guys,” Orihime yawned as she stepped into the kitchen. “Any coffee? It’s too early.”

“Sorry Hime. Were we too loud?” Ichigo asked, his previous scowl morphing to something more kind.

“No,” she murmured. Her voice was still thick with sleep. She stumbled a little, bumping into Ichigo. “Oh hi wall. You smell nice.” Orihime leaned into his chest and snuggled him.

There was a strangled sound from Renji as he watched the young woman wrap her arms loosely around Ichigo’s waist. Instinctively, Ichigo wrapped his arms around her to steady her.

“Renji,” Ichigo said softly as to not disturb Orihime. “Please brew some coffee for her.”

“Jeez if I had known that Hime could instantly dissolve your sour mood with an embrace, I’d handcuff you both together.” Renji grumbled and shook his head, walking over to the coffeemaker on the counter.

Ichigo hummed a distracted acknowledgement as he idly stroked Orihime’s long auburn hair. She snuggled into his broad chest further. “Thanks. I’ll move her back to her room.” He was already moving towards the living room as he heard Renji’s snarky reply.

“Oh take your time. I’m merely here to serve.”

~*~*~*~

Ichigo sighed heavily as he stepped out from Orihime’s room and shut the door behind him quietly. He turned to walk down the short hallway, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw his two friends standing a few feet away with evil grins on their faces. Squaring his shoulders and fixing a glare at Renji and Rukia, he taunted “Don’t you both have something better to do? Like, absolutely anything?”

Rukia’s grin sharpened further. “Nah, we’re more interested in heckling you.”

Ichigo grumbled, raking his fingers through his unruly hair. “Yeah yeah. You’re both insufferable.”

He flicked Rukia’s forehead and smacked Renji’s upper back swiftly as he moved to leave.

Rukia’s retort was loud as she declared, “And YOU are the annoying brother I never asked for and yet somehow got!”

Renji’s muttering was barely noticeable under the small woman’s rage. “C’mon, Rukia. Let’s leave him be.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes, stepping around the ornery woman and made his way to the kitchen. Of course, Renji was right. It annoyed him to no end that he hadn’t spoken with Orihime about how he felt towards her. Hell, if he were being honest, he knew that he was in love with her at first sight.

She’d stumbled into his dad’s clinic, buckling under the weight of her brother’s prone body. This girl, only 12 at the time, carried her six foot and change older brother from the scene of the car accident all the way there. She was battered and bruised from the wreckage too. It broke him to his very soul when he had to tell her that his father was unable to save Orihime’s brother. The ambulance Isshin had called to rush him to the trauma ward of the hospital had simply not gotten there in enough time.

He did his best to console Orihime, who collapsed in a heap on the clinic floor. Her clothes were soiled with dirt and caked in her brother’s blood.

Yuzu had entered the room, and with a kind and understanding voice, ushered the broken girl to the bathroom to wash up. Orihime stayed at his house for several days, mostly walking around with mechanical movements, much like a zombie or a robot, just going through the motions of a semblance of normalcy. At night she’d cry herself to sleep. Ichigo stayed by her side when she was awake, and would help her to bed when she could barely stay up right.

Slowly, but surely, Orihime processed the loss of her brother. Ichigo stuck to her like glue, promising her and to himself that he would always be there to protect her. Orihime professed her gratitude to him soon after she moved back to her apartment, telling him that she was eternally grateful for everything he had done. As time went on, they became inseparable. They went to the same middle school and then high school, which introduced them to new friends that they quickly established into a tight-knit group.

Orihime had grown up beautifully. Her smile, warm and bright, had the ability to render him speechless and lightheaded. He felt invincible and vulnerable all at once. Far too many times, their friends would catch him when he was slack-jawed and mindless, teasing him mercilessly when Orihime wasn’t looking.

He began calling her ‘Hime’ their senior year. He hadn’t meant to, but it just slipped out. She had been followed by a group of boys who often flocked around her, taken by her beauty and her curvaceous body. One of them had ventured to put a hand on her shoulder without permission and Ichigo had snapped. Any restraint he had frayed instantly and before he understood what was happening, he had slammed the cretin against the wall and threatened him.

“You don’t touch women without consent, especially Hime.” He growled at the other guy, clenching the offending limb.

Orihime had called his name softly, telling Ichigo to let the man go, and he had simultaneously dropped him and her request. Ichigo made it a point to be by her side every chance he had. To protect her, love her from a distance if need be. It was enough, at that time.

But once Ichigo, Orihime and their friends entered university, the strain to keep a tight seal over his feelings became increasingly more difficult. His best friend flourished in academics and her social life expanded to include other people outside of their small group. With that also came obstacles, and Ichigo had to fend off more than a few of Orihime’s admirers.

Ichigo gripped the handle of the carafe of coffee angrily at the memory. The steam and scent of the hot brew brought him back to the present. He sighed after loosening his grip and poured two cups, adding cream and sugar to Orihime’s.

Soft footfalls behind him reached his ears, along with a quiet yawn. A grin spread on his lips as Orihime came into view.

Orihime blinked away the remnants of sleep from her eyes, smiling brightly at Ichigo when he offered her the cup he’d gotten for her.

Taking a big sip, she sighed happily. “Thanks, Ichigo. You always know how to make my coffee just how I like it.”

Ichigo smiled gently at her, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Well, after knowing you for ten years, I’d like to think I know you well enough to get your preferences right.”

Orihime giggled and gazed up at him from behind the mug pressed to her lips. “You do, and I’m grateful for that. Lord knows why Rukia insists on adding extra sugar and Tatsuki puts in too little cream. You are a hero among men, good sir.”

Ichigo’s smile widened at Orihime’s playfulness. “I try my best, m’lady.”

“Where are Rukia and Renji?” Orihime asked as she looked around the kitchen.

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Hopefully somewhere off annoying someone else more deserving.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

Orihime snorted bemusedly, shaking her head in disbelief as he tried to sound convincingly bored and grumpy. She raised her hand to place it on his right cheek in a fond manner.

“What am I going to do with you?” Her question came out more flirtatious than she intended.

Ichigo’s eyes widened at her sweet gesture and instantly leaned into her touch, closing his eyes and revelling in it. He had never realized how touch starved he truly was until Orihime would step into his personal space with her warm smile and kind gaze. It was as if that one thing, a fleeting brush of her fingers, or a soothing embrace had the ability to heal his wounded heart or eradicate any scar left on his soul.

Losing his mother at such a young age had made him a hardened and angry child. He blamed himself for her death, believing that if he had done something, spent more time with her, taken care of her and his sisters more, that she may very well have recovered from cancer. But his father had explained to him many times that the disease was caught too late, and the malignancy had metastasized from her cervix to her uterus and ovaries very quickly. Ichigo was still struggling with the loss of his mother two years later, when Orihime stumbled into their clinic with her brother.

He’d figured that no matter how miserable and heart wrenching it was, he had found purpose in consoling Orihime. It gave him unbelievable strength to bond with her over the loss. Helping her ultimately helped him as well in the end. The desire to be with her only grew. It had crawled in and never left. He’d become greedy for it, overthrown by his desperation to be close to the light that was Orihime.

She continued to lightly graze his cheekbone with soft brushes against him, her warm fingers causing pleasant tingles on his skin.

Orihime cupped the side of his face as she watched in awe how he was drawn to her touch, feeling the soft smile that pulled at his lips. When he raised his hand to place it over hers, she felt herself being pulled by an invisible force, almost magnetic. He had always been like that, and she adored being the one that he let in entirely. She stroked his cheek and began to pull her palm away until he held fast to her. His eyes fluttered open, and the look he had in them made the breath catch in her throat.

“Ichi-“ she murmured breathlessly.

The raw emotion that flashed in his dark amber gaze made her spine tingle, her heart stutter and her cheeks warm. He had the ability to render her tongue-tied with the flicker of something deep and foreign to her. Ichigo pulled her into his arms, finally allowing her hand to move, and she found herself slipping it to the back of his neck and burying her fingers into his soft hair. He wrapped his arms about her, pulling her to his lean, muscular body and sighed happily as Orihime sifted her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp comfortingly.

Orihime pressed her ear over his heart, as he towered over her five foot one frame. The thumping, strong sound of it beating quieted her mind immediately. He slid his hands up and down her back, and she felt herself melt into it.

“I… I just need this, Hime.” Ichigo’s whisper filtered into her ear as he pressed his lips to her temple, sending a shiver through her body. Though quiet, she heard the fervency in his tone. She nodded against him, continuing her movements through his hair. She felt him shudder in their embrace and the breathless ‘thank you’ that he uttered.

“Were you thinking about something?” Orihime whispered back, her eyebrows drawing inwards as the possibility fluttered through her mind.

Ichigo nodded, letting out a stuttering sigh. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it. I’m better now.”

She hummed thoughtfully at his response, resigning herself to his simple answer. She wouldn’t push him further.

Finally Ichigo pulled back from her to look her in the eyes. His gaze was still intense, as it flickered with what she could only identify as resolve and something far much more akin to what she assumed she wore as an expression often in his presence. It made her heart skip a beat and her mind to race at the possibilities.

“Hime,” he murmured. The way he said her name was like an urgent plea. It caused her stomach to swoop down like she was on an out of control rollercoaster. She waited on baited breath as he gathered his thoughts.

Ichigo’s mind was restless. His need to put into words how he felt about her, loved her, desired her rushed through and permeated the recesses of his brain. He should’ve been used to the intensity of it by now, but he most certainly wasn’t. The way she watched him gave him strength to form the words, stilling the overbearing thoughts warring to leave his mouth.

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered. His simple response was anything but, knowing deep down that this could make or break their friendship. The smile she gave him nearly shut down his brain entirely.

“What took you so long?” Orihime breathed before Ichigo’s mouth was on hers, his lips holding nothing back as kissed her with all the desperation and hunger of a man starved. The radiating joy splashed over the burning desire thundering through his veins.

Orihime parted her lips as she let out a sound that would’ve embarrassed her outside of this situation. Instead, she felt exhilarated to an immeasurable degree. Her body quaked at the reverence and pure heat he poured into it. It was as if the dam of years of keeping everything bottled up in fear of losing each other burst and flooded them all at once.

She clenched her fingers in his hair as he delved his tongue into her mouth. Orihime felt her body fight between melting and being drawn taught, like a string on a bow. Ichigo’s hands slid down to her hips, flexing and gripping at her flannel pajama pants and flesh. She angled her head when he held her firmly, seeking out his tongue with her own.

Ichigo was quickly lost in the taste of her skin, the sounds she made and the feel of her. His nerve endings felt like they had caught fire. It was a sensory overload in everything Orihime. If he didn’t think he was greedy before, he certainly was now.

~~~(TBC)~~~

I certainly hope you all liked this! I should have the chapter finished bit up fairly soon. Thanks so much for reading!

Also— I’m uncertain why this isn’t showing up in the tags, so I’ll try it again.

#ihweek2021 #ichigo kurosaki #orihime inoue #ichigo x orihime

[dolphin-enthusiast]

How would Bruno, Risotto, Jotaro and Abbacchio react to a nice guy hitting on their s/o and trying to get her to leave them for him?

I took so long to answer this🔪🔪

Bruno:

- His silence is deafening because YOU KNOW whenever he ain't talkin anymore and glaring daggers it means shit is o n. The second he spots said person trying to take you away, all that he's going to do is wrap a possessive arm around your waist, his eyes deadly and jaw clenching with unfiltered anger that he actually masks scaringly well.

- If the person in question is actually THAT idiotic as to not take the clear as daylight sign, Bruno will straight up cut their senseless rambling off and brutally say it to their face that you are, obviously, not available and if they won't respect that then they're going to have to deal with him and trust me, a legit angry Bruno is a truly nightmarish sight.

- What's even more amazing is that Bruno would effortlessly drive away any person with malicious intentions or who was being just a bit too insistent with their advances towards you for the man's liking by simply glaring at them or uttering a few words that at first don't seem threatening but the implications and tone and his overall aura would be more than enough to send anyone within a 10 mile radius serenely skeddadling. Like, mans don't even gotta do much to be absolutely fucking intimidating, afterwards his behavior doing a whole 180 and acting all composed and calm like his usual self as if nothing happened in the first place.

Risotto:

- Kinda like Bruno but with a hint of blatant anger sprinkled in since his main tactics of intimidating consist of pure, unfiltered power flexing. Like Bruno is way smoother and sly evem though he's fucking boiling on the inside meanwhile our mcr boi right here would be straight up scowling and clenching his teeth whilst suffocating you to his side as he has an intense staring contest with that person. Furthermore, he ain't afraid to get a little bold/handsy with you in order to assert his dominance either. He can and WILL make out with you right then and there if r e a l l y tested.

- Will straight up tell them to fuck off, like seriously dude can't they see you're with him???? He could effortlessly body slam them into the next goddamn dimension, don't even t e s t him. His buff arm would be tightly wrapped around your waist/shoulders as he'd quietly yet threateningly speak to said person, explaining to them how he ain't afraid to throw some major fists (or knives...) if they won't scramble right then and there.

- Risotto truly can't stand persistent assholes, specifically persistent NICE guy assholes. There's just something about the way they think they're above everyone else and that you somehow OWE them. Expect Risotto to be awfully clingy and possessive later on throughout the evening, like even more than usual. If you bring it up be sure to be either shut off instantly (with a faint blush and lots of grumbling, might I add) or just...t e a s e d since he lowkey likes being an ass sometimes, even more so to save his own skin. Because he loves you, obviously.

Abbacchio:

- Absolutely fucking fuming. It's not everyday that he legit falls for someone and lets them in whilst opening up more than he had ever did in his entire life, and some bitchass mf has the absolute n e r v e to persuade you into running away with them and shamelessly flirting with you right in front of his goddamn salad??? The sheer A U D A C I T Y.

- That being said, expect Abba to be fucking livid as he'd immediately step in between you two, the pissed off goth man shooting a pletora of rather vibrant insults towards the colossal asshole that had the nerve to hit on you right in front of him as he'd explicitly state that you're only HIS. If they won't get it then he might as well punch some sense into them.

- Immediately gets you out of that place and literally drags you home just to be glued to you the entire night. That's it, that's all. Expect him to get extremely defensive and pissed if you dare bring it up (let alone tease him about it) even though Abba knows damn well he's extremely insecure and needs lots of reassurance when it comes to shit like this even though he's fully aware that you'd NEVER betray him. That night Abbacchio would hold you close to him as he drifts off a little tighter than usual.

Jotaro:

- Seemingly calm but actually extremely and terrifyingly livid on the inside. He's quite the observant man as we all know so of course he aleady figured that said person has been lowkey eyeing you the entire time. So when they eventually gather courage and start pressuring you (RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIS GODDAMN JACKED 6'5 ASS MIGHT I ADD) Jotaro tells himself that they really had it coming.

- Now, p3 Joot would have just fucking ora'd that mf into oblivion then afterwards silently dragged you out of the room. But if it's diu Joot we talking of, the man would be way more composed (all of it an amazingly well put together act, of course) as he'd at first TRY (emphasis on "try") reasoning with this absolute bastard all the while keeping a firm yet protective grip on you. He won't make a scene unless said person has an actual death wish and tries taking a swing at him.

- Despite Jotaro not enjoying pda in the slightest, he'd be significantly touchier with you afterwards (fucking giant ass picking you, squeezing the life outta your hand or just...straight up draping himself over you and wrapping his arms around your waist when no one's looking as if he's lighter than a feather when in actuality your 🅱️ones are breakable unlike diamonds) and you'd obviously notice it too since he's usually the type to be like that specifically behind closed doors only. He ain't the jealous type in the slightest but it's just s m t h about people that clearly don't know their place that gets to him. He can and will deny each and every remark you make about him being touchy ("So yOu aRe jEalOus"; "nO") even though you'd deadass catch him smirking everytime.

#jojo's bizzare adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #bruno bucciarati #leone abbacchio #risotto nero #jotaro kujo #jojo headcanons #headcanons #anon

[lunetheaveragefan]

‘one day...’

Hey y’all! This chapter was supposed to be posted last Monday but last week was so busy for me and I forgot. So finally, here is chapter 7! Chapter 8 was supposed to be posted next week, but I’m going to continue with my typical two week schedule so I don’t forget again! Hope you enjoy!

A Sander Sides high school AU

Pairing: Prinxiety and some background Logicality

Summary: Virgil is used to being alone. He only has one friend, Logan. But when Logan makes a new friend, things begin to change as two more join their group. Roman, a boisterous theater kid, seems determined to destroy Virgil’s lonely, average life. How much will Virgil’s life change?

Warnings: swearing; brief mention of a panic attack; eating; if you notice anything else, let me know!

Word Count: 2557 words

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

CHAPTER SEVEN

Virgil exits the auditorium with Patton and Logan, grinning.

“He did so good!” Patton exclaims. Before either of the others have a chance to respond, Patton continues, “It was like he was a completely different person! Here, let’s go congratulate him!” Virgil and Logan follow Patton down a few crowded hallways, weaving in and out of people talking to other members of the cast. 

“Roman!” Patton yells, waving his arms. Virgil catches sight of Roman, stepping out of a set of heavy doors. Behind him, it’s dark, but Virgil can make out a folding table and the edges of black curtains. Backstage. Then, a group of people walk in front of them, and Virgil loses sight of Roman.

Without hesitation, Patton grabs Logan’s hand and begins to shove people aside, muttering a few cheerful ‘Excuse me’s and ‘Sorry’s. Before Virgil has a chance to get a hold of Logan, they’re lost in the crowd. 

Well, what the heck do I do now? Virgil wonders, chuckling softly. A hand brushes his arm at the same time a voice says, “Hey. Where are the others?”

After seeing who it is, Virgil laughs and answers, “They went to look for you.” Roman slaps his forehead with his palm, uttering a sound that’s half-sigh, half-laugh. He rises up to his toes, straining to look over people’s heads.

“This same goddamn thing happens every year. You would think we’d learn by now.” Roman looks back down at Virgil, and at the very second he does, Virgil sees Patton pop up above the rest of the crowd. Pointing so Roman will see, Virgil waves his other hand to catch Patton’s attention. It works, and Roman grabs Virgil’s hand, causing his heart to skip a beat. 

After a lot of pushing and shoving, the two of them reach Patton and Logan, standing pressed up against the wall next to a chair. So that’s how Patton got so tall all of a sudden. The second Patton sees them, he starts to gush about the performance.

“That was so good, Roman!” Patton exclaims clapping his hands in glee. He bounces on the balls of his feet, a wide smile spread across his face. “We all loved it and we’re so proud of you and it sounded so good and I think Virgil might’ve even been crying—” Virgil blushes when Roman looks at him with a shocked expression—“I’m not sure I couldn’t see through my own tears. But for real it was so good, like, I can’t even believe it was put on by high schoolers—” Logan places a hand on Patton’s shoulder. The action confirms to Virgil that Logan definitely has some sort of crush on Patton; Logan never really touches anyone in any way, with the occasional exception of Virgil. 

“Sorry,” Patton says, grinning sheepishly. Roman chuckles and looks at Patton, appreciation covering his face.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you came. All of you.” Roman’s smile at him, although no more than a few seconds, makes butterflies erupt in Virgil’s stomach. He smiles back hesitantly, an intense debate going on in his head.

C’mon, tell him how much you liked it! one side says. 

No! He won’t think it’s sincere. He’ll just figure you’re copying Patton, the other says back. 

Maybe he will take it seriously! Maybe then you’ll have a better chance with him!

Better chance? You don’t actually like him, do you?

Of course he does! The butterflies, dreams, that’s the only logical conclusion!

Shut up, Virgil interrupts. I’ll tell him good job, but as a friend. Because I don’t like him. He’s still Roman Princeford. Have you all forgotten what happened freshman year? That ends the argument in its tracks. He gathers his courage, a rolling knot of apprehension twisting in his stomach.

“Yeah, it was really good, Roman,” Virgil compliments. “Although, Patton, you didn’t need to freaking snitch on me and how I was crying.” Patton shrugs, like ‘What can you do?’ Virgil chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Wait, you were actually crying?” Roman asks. When Virgil turns back to look at Roman, he bursts out laughing at his face. It’s filled with complete and utter shock, eyes wide, mouth in a small, disbelieving ‘o’ shape. It seems so much like a face a cartoon character would make that Virgil can’t control his laughter. “What?”

“Your—Your face—” Virgil manages between wheezes. Roman punches Virgil in the arm.

“Stop. That’s not nice.” His words sound angry, but he’s smiling and his tone — and punch — are light. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Virgil says, taking deep breaths to hold the laughter in. “It was just so comically shocked. But yes. I did actually cry. And don’t seem so surprised this time.” 

“Honestly, your laugh was more surprising. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh like that. It’s a nice sound,” Roman admits, his face filled with something that seems awfully close to adoration. But then he blinks, and his smile is just an ordinary, million-dollar, Roman Princeford smile. It wouldn’t matter if he said it with contempt, because the compliment would’ve still sent a flood of warmth through Virgil. His heart is racing, but this time, not out of panic. 

Tearing his eyes away from Roman and trying to inconspicuously grit his teeth, which is no easy feat, Virgil thinks, What is going on? It’s just a compliment. It’s not like you have a crush on him or anything. 

“Anyway,” Roman starts, addressing the whole group, “I better go find my parents so they can fawn over me like I’m next Lin-Manuel Miranda or Leslie Odom Jr.” Upon seeing everyone’s blank looks, his eyes widen and he says, “Hamilton stars? Only some of the best singers to ever step foot on Broadway? Voices like goddamn angels who can, for some reason, also rap?” When everyone shakes their head, he sighs. “I swear, you guys must be living under a rock. But anyway, Imma head out. We’ll meet by door 10 at, say, 9:00, for the sleepover?” 

Patton and Logan nod their heads and immediately start talking to each other, Patton’s hands moving animatedly.

“Sleepover?” Virgil asks. 

“Yeah, Patton and I have a tradition where after every show or any big event with one of our activities, we have a sleepover. Even if it went terribly. He didn’t tell you?” Virgil shakes his head. Roman smiles and continues, “Well, you won’t want to miss it. Door 10 at 9, got it?” Once Virgil gives him confirmation, Roman turns and disappears into the crowd.

Virgil stares after him, a strange feeling welling up inside him. And this time, when the possibility of a crush comes up in his thoughts, he doesn’t dismiss it immediately. 

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

Virgil sits against Roman’s wall, an excessive amount of pillows behind his back, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, a comparison that Patton has already, unfortunately, made.

“I still cannot comprehend how you possibly require this immense amount of pillows,” Logan persists. He can’t stop marveling over how many pillows Roman has on his bed. It’s about the 4th time he’s mentioned it.

“Logan, dude, just let it go,” Virgil chuckles, throwing the stuffed bear next to him. It hits Logan, who’s sitting on the floor, square in the side of his head. He opens his mouth to protest, but Roman interrupts him.

“Hey, don’t throw King Snuffles. He doesn’t deserve this abuse.” Roman leans over to pick the bear off the floor. Cradling it in his arms, he glares at Virgil. 

“You named your bear King Snuffles?” Virgil questions, not all that surprised. Roman gasps and fakes being offended.

“Yes,” he replies, his voice scandalized. “And what the hell of it?” Virgil puts his hands up in surrender.

“Woah. Nothing, I guess, if you’re going to get so defensive about it.” He pulls the blanket, which fell down when he put up his hands, back around him. There’s too much on his head, so it falls in front of his face. Before he can reach up to push it up, a hand does it for him. Roman smiles at him, patting his head after setting the blanket there. Virgil rolls his eyes.

He hopes the yellow-orange LED lights and the shadows from the blanket hide the blush creeping across his cheeks. 

“I’m hungry so I’m gonna head and get snacks,” Roman announces, turning and sling his legs over the edge of the bed to stand. Patton bolts to his feet. 

“No, no, I’ll do it,” he says, clearly up to something. “And Logan will come with me.” 

“Well, actually—” Logan begins. Patton elbows him, and he changes course. “I guess I’m going with.” On their way out, Patton gives Roman an exaggerated wink. Roman, in lieu of a response, gives him an exasperated, I’m-so-done kind of look. Virgil can’t say for sure, but when Roman looks back at him, he thinks Roman’s blushing.

“So…” Roman starts, biting his lip and fidgeting with his fingers. Virgil’s never seen him look this unsure. He’s used to a confident, brash, slightly egotistical Roman. To his surprise, he almost prefers this side of Roman. 

Virgil must lose his mind for a little, because he’s definitely not acting like himself when he suggests, “Pillow fight?” and right after, grabs a pillow and flings it at Roman, whacking him in the face. 

A borderline-evil smile appears on Romans face as he says, “Oh, you’re on.” Virgil’s senses pick that exact moment to come back, but he can’t take it back now. So he does the only thing he can do: slings the pillow again. Chaos erupts, and a Virgil verse Roman pillow fight begins. 

As he throws and gets hit by pillows, Virgil laughs and yells, heart pounding, breathing in quick bursts, but this feels better than panic attacks. Happiness. It’s something Virgil doesn’t feel a whole lot since he spends most of his life stuck in a state of anxiety. It’s nice to be happy again.

He’s so lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice the pillow coming towards him until it slaps him in the face. Virgil falls backwards, head landing, conveniently, on a pillow. He sits up and hits Roman with it, and they’re at it again. 

When Roman starts to fall off the bed, Virgil starts to laugh. But then he realizes that somehow, they’d gotten tangled in a blanket, and if Roman is going down, Virgil will too. Shrieking in surprise, Virgil instinctively closes his eyes as he’s yanked off the bed. A pillow hits the back of his head once he’s landed. He laughs and opens his eyes to see Roman directly under him. There’s no doubt about it now; Roman is definitely blushing. For that matter, so is Virgil. 

There’s also no way Virgil can deny his crush anymore. But that doesn’t mean he has to deal with it, right? ...Right...

Desperate to put an end to the awkwardness, Virgil stands and offers his hand to Roman. He takes it and pulls himself to his feet. They make eye contact for a second before Virgil looks down at his hands. I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d kissed him. 

Nope, nope, nope. Not gonna think about that. Don’t have to deal with that, remember?

“I, uh, wonder what’s taking Patton and Logan so long with the snacks,” Roman finally says, breaking the tense silence. Virgil wants to sigh in relief. 

Instead, he simply responds, “I’m not sure. Let’s go see.” They walk to the landing of the stairs. Strangely, there isn’t any sound coming from the kitchen. After walking down the first few steps, Virgil can see into the room. What he sees should come as a surprise, but it really doesn’t.

Apparently, trying to set up Roman and Virgil wasn’t the only reason why Patton wanted Logan to come with. Logan is pressed up against the counter, hand wrapped around Patton’s waist as they kiss. Patton’s palms hold Logan’s face, tilting it down to account for the inches Logan has on him. 

Roman, standing right behind Virgil, mutters, “Okay. Okay then.” Virgil starts to laugh but forces himself to stop so Logan or Patton don’t hear. Carefully, they creep back to the bedroom, letting them have their moment.

“So how long do you think that’s been going on for?” Roman asks once they’re back sitting on his bed, Virgil back to being wrapped up in his blanket cocoon again.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Virgil admits. “I kinda figured Logan had a crush on Patton, but I didn’t think they would actually get together, at least not this soon.”

“Yeah ever since their chemistry project, Patton's been crushing on Logan hard. He doesn’t shut up about it. Apparently,” Roman says, leaning in conspiratorially, “they’ve been talking a lot. Patton’s been so tired lately cuz they’re up til, like, 1 AM, video chatting.”  

“That is news to me.” Virgil pauses, staring at the door. The two of them sit in silence for a while — comfortable silence — just waiting for Patton and Logan to reappear with the snacks they were supposed to be bringing. After about 10 more minutes, Virgil turns to Roman and asks, “Do you think I should call them up? They’ve been down there for an awful long time.”

“Yeah. The last thing I want is for them to have sex on my kitchen counter.” Virgil winces at the image that appears in his head at the words.

After Roman yells down to Logan and Patton, Virgil says, “Oh, god. Please never say anything like that again. I do not need that image in my head.” Roman laughs. 

“An image of what?” Patton asks, walking in the room with Logan not far behind. Thankfully, they had the decency to pretend like they weren’t just making out. But Patton didn’t have so much decency to pretend like he hadn’t been eavesdropping on their conversation. They drop a few Halloween-size, assorted candy bulk bags and two big bowls of popcorn on the bed. 

“Nothing,” Virgil answers, grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it in his mouth. “Ooh, Sour Patch Kids.” He grabs four individual bags of them and drops them in his lap. 

“Jeez, hungry much?” Roman teases. Virgil flips him off and takes another handful of popcorn. Roman tries to sneakily grab a handful of mini bars from the bag of chocolate-based candy, but Virgil notices.

“Jeez, hypocritical much?” he quips, smirking. 

“Oh, fuck off,” Roman responds, sticking his tongue out like a little kid. Virgil sticks his out right back. Patton, who, unsurprisingly, hates swearing, quickly attempts to change the subject.

“Hey, I have an idea! Let’s play Two Truths, One Lie! Then we can get to know each other better!” he suggests. The rest of them agree, and Patton goes first. They take turns, occasionally sharing stories and facts about themselves. And when they get bored of Two Truths, One Lie, they switch to Truth or Dare, and Virgil has to eat a spoonful of mayo.

Patton’s the first to fall asleep. Not long after, around 2 AM, Roman and Logan follow. Virgil sits wrapped in his blanket cocoon in the darkened bedroom. He stares out the window at the dim stars, thinking about how lucky he is. He has three great friends who he can make memories and laugh with.

He turns to look at Roman, asleep on the bed beside him. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, “for surprising me.”

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #prinxiety #logicality #sanders sides #high school au #fanfiction #fanfic #one day...

[thewinterwaifu]

Believe

Pairing:Akechi x reader

Gender of reader:female

Word count:1049

Genre:fluff

Warnings:really heavy spoilers for both persona 5 and persona 5 royal (last palace info)

Plot summary:Y/n and Akechi are in Mementos and the danger of a certain encounter causes them to come to term with their feelings

A/N:Even though I write a lot of Akechi for my friend I still write him very ooc because I suck oop-. Okay but seriously this has huge spoilers

Akechi wasn’t dense. Otherwise, he would never been able to make it as a detective. No, he picked up on every little subtle clue and hint the world threw at him. It hadn’t been a challenge for him to figure out how Y/N felt about him. Perhaps it was even safe to assume that he had noticed it before she had even realized she was in love herself.

And being honest, Akechi felt the same, so why hadn’t he said anything yet?Well, he still didn’t believe it. He knew most people saw him as attractive, so why was he still surprised all the same?Well, she knew who he truly was. All the horrible things he had done, how he had betrayed the Phantom Thieves. So why? Why did her feelings persist?

He wished he could get an answer. For once, he was completely lost, no hypothesis or theory to hang on to. He just couldn’t...Of course, he didn’t want to voice his curiosity and feelings. If they got together, many on the group would surely judge her right?He didn’t want to cause her even more trouble than he already had.

“Being awfully silent today, detective” Y/N pointed out as they walked through Mementos. Akechi had tried to convince her than coming here on their own with nobody else’s help was a bad idea, especially with the reaper roaming around, but she was too stubborn. She would have come here alone if he didn’t comply and that was even more dangerous. As such, he had no choice but to join her.

“Well” he said with a frown “I didn’t know what you were expecting, since I was forced to come here!” he said.

“Forced?You agreed, didn’t you?” she said raising an eyebrow “You came here by your own account”

“Not really no. You said you’d just come here on your own” he reminded her, rolling her eyes.

“Exactly!Where’s the part where I forced you to come along?”

“Believe it or not, I don’t want you to get killed off. And not just because we need you to defeat Maruki” he said in a serious tone, looking into her eyes, or trying to at least. The masks made it a bit complicated

That took her a bit by surprise. She knew he cared about Joker, but her? Why her? Now she was the one with her mouth shut, at a loss for words.

“Cat got your tongue? Who’s the silent one now?” Akechi asked, raising an eyebrow. Yeah, he could get like this sometimes.

“Why?” she asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.

“Why what?” he said, feeling his cheeks blush for the first time in years. Well,fuck.

“Don’t play dumb!You know what I’m talking about Goro!”

“Why does it even matter?” he countered.

“Don’t answer a question with another question!” Y/N said. “That trick won’t work with me, you know that”

Suddenly, they were both silenced by the sound of rattling chains drawing closer. No time for aguing. Following his instincts in a panic, Akechi grabbed her wrist before he started running, dragging her as she ran as well. Well, this way harder when they didn’t have the Mona car.

As if it was a miracle though, they managed to get the next floor, making Akechi let go of her.

“Ouch…” she panted, looking at her wrist. His grip had been too tight and rough.

“Sorry” 

Wow, she didn’t think she could get even more surprised today.

“No it’s fine, it was my fault for starting that discussion when I knew that thing would ambush us eventually…”

“Well, I didn’t stop you so I’m equally as guilty. But I hope that now you see this move was foolish. Let’s just go back, right now”

Unable to argue, Y/N simply nodded. Once out of metaverse, he started walking her home and both of them stayed silent all the while. They both gave each other a quick look every once in a while, hoping not to get caught. Sometimes their gazes did meet and they soon looked away again in embarrassment.

She couldn’t take it any longer. Once they reached her doorstep, he turned around, planning to go, but she stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulders.

“Hold on” she said. No, she couldn’t just leave him go like this.

“What?” he said, not even turning his head. No, that would show his blush and would be way too embarrassing.

“What you said earlier. What did you mean by it?”

He knew he couldn’t play dumb, she had already called him out for that in Mementos. But...he could still turn the tables, he was a resourceful one.

“Why don’t you take a guess?” he challenged her, wondering what she would reply.

“I...don’t know” Y/N said.

“Come on, you can do better than that”

“I just don’t see why would you-”

Goro finally  turned around,shaking his head.

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?I have a  crush on you” he...didn’t know where that came from. It had been an impulsive move, his subconscious had betrayed him.

“Goro I...feel the same way.” she admitted.

“I know. Known for a while” he said.

“Well then why didn’t you say anything?” she said in a confused tone.

“I was waiting for your feelings to fade” he confessed “I assumed they wouldn’t last long after I betrayed you and the others. I just can’t believe you still like me...why would you?I can’t figure it out and it drives me crazy.Why?”

“...Because I know you’re a good person, deep down” she said, looking into his eyes.

Akechi burst into laughter, thinking she was just messing with him.

“Please don’t lie to me. I just need an answer...so spit it out!” he said, growing even more upset.

“I meant it!That’s the truth!”

It...was?He found that hard to believe...then again he had found her crush hard to believe and yet here they were.

“Is it selfish of me to ask you to be with me then?Knowing you’re mistaken…?”

“I’ll show you I’m not” she said leaning in, letting their lips finally kiss like they had been yearning for what felt like an eternity.

#persona 5 #persona 5 royal #goro akechi #akechi goro #akechi #akechi x reader #goro akechi x reader #akechi goro x reader #persona 5 the royal #persona 5 fics

[dadlezal]

As I’m very new in this fandom, I’d like to add a very long comment about this Sherlolly ship. But, at the very beginning, I’d like to say I love your works, Mathilde. Your videos make people think and binds different moments of the show into one picture. They’re masterpieces.

Everyone keeps talking about the second “I love you”, but I think there are at least two moments from the last episode that are equally important.

1.      “If it’s true, just say it anyway”

Just look at his face when he says it. Of course, the entire sick situation is about Molly loving Sherlock, he figured it out himself (as the only one person in the room), but the moment Molly says “Because it’s true”, Sherlock’s face changes – it softens, as if it was THIS MOMENT when he truly realized what she meant, what it all REALLY meant. This was the moment Sherlock realized how difficult it is to say someone you love them, not knowing if they love you back, or worse, knowing they DON’T love you back. How difficult it is to talk about your feelings. No wonder she says: “You bastard” – she couldn’t have seen his face and voice can betray you. She also discovered he really did know about her feelings and maybe thought he tried to manipulate her once again, brutally using her weakness for him for another sick game. And maybe, just maybe, his voice softens and lowers because he wants to finally face the truth.

  2.      “What?”

As a person who likes watching a lot of cop shows (especially “The Mentalist”), I can assure you that this is the face someone makes when they’re forced to do something that will reveal the truth about them. Something they want to hide. Something that was hidden inside them and they have been repressing it for a long time. They subconsciously know it’s going to be painful and that is why it’s so hard for them to reveal it. Besides, this time it’s Molly Hooper who plays a game with Sherlock, not the other way around. She stands up to him once again. The same way she said he always says horrible things, the same way she slapped him in the face when he got into drug addiction, the same way she ignored his warning voice when she started talking about the way her father used to hide his sadness. I think that she used to give up to his charms and manipulations very easily but she gained a sort of immunity against it over the time. So, saying “What?”, Sherlock shows his astonishment that she was so tough when he thought she would be vulnerable. It also shows that he got even more scared. He had to not only save her life, but reveal his feelings.

  So, the first try comes out a bit insincere, dry. But once he says these words, just to save Molly’s life, he comes to a realization: maybe he doesn’t have to lie. Maybe it doesn’t have to be insincere. We don’t know what was in Benedict Cumberbatch’s head, we don’t know what he thought about their relationship. Of course, there are many people who use the writers’ words as arguments: the thing that is between them is only a friendship. Alright, but we are all allowed to interpret everything the way we want, including actors (the best example is Jim Parsons in “The Big Bang Theory” and the way he plays Sheldon as if he was autistic). Interpreting is not about discovering the author’s intention, but discovering the parts of our experience and ourselves in what we read/hear/see. And I think it’s pretty ugly what they said about Molly: that this “I love you” scene magically helped her move on, she went and banged some random guy and everything was alright. No wonder why Louise Brealey herself got mad at them. This kind of devotion is not easy to get over with. She loved him, truly loved, loved him the way Irene Adler wouldn’t understand. This is why John Watson says: “I want you to be examined by the first person who learned to see through your bullshit. The last person you would think about”. Of course this time Sherlock remembers about her because she was his leverage against Moriarty, but this proves that even Watson knew – Molly has seen a human in Sherlock before he was ready to admit it to himself. That’s why she was so persistent to show him she knows when he’s sad (the scene with “I don’t count” can be a material for another article). And it took me many hits of the replay button on this fanvid of Sherlolly before I realized what Sherlock meant when he asked her if she helped him if he would turn out be a completely different person – because the entire “fall from the roof” scam proved that Sherlock cares about people, and to explain the plot to her, he had to explain the reason for it – he wanted to save his friends, his family – the “emotional context”. And just so you know, I think that Cumberbatch kind of shows the “softness” Sherlock reveals around Molly. Just for a moment, when you rewatch the show, focus your eyesight on Sherlock from the very first scene with Molly. Camera shows he keeps looking at her even when she turns around. He gives her the “gazes”, longer than expected.

 Not to mention that Sherlock was soft to Molly before he started being soft to John. She’s the only person he said “sorry” to without being forced to do it, even though Molly said exactly the same everybody used to tell him. And, if I’m not mistaken, Sherlock’s “I love you” said to Molly is the first and the only time Sherlock does it on his own.

 And as to the “I don’t count” scene… Sherlock realized there that he wasn’t acting really nice towards her and that is why she assumed he didn’t take her seriously. His reaction was priceless and it was before he realized Moriarty’s plan. Just rewatch the scene and LOOK AT HIM. He was so vulnerable. She got to him. He was the nicest person ever because she made him realize how awfully he was treating her when she was the only person who truly knew him. And when she says: “Do want something? I know you don’t”. A before that, when he says: “What could I possibly need from you?”, he says it only because he’s confused. And it’s not easy to confuse Sherlock Holmes.

 And her bedroom was one of his bolt-holes.

 For me, they don’t have to be together. I think it would be fair for John and Sherlock to be “without girlfriends/wives” as per original stories. I wouldn’t mind if they knew about each other’s feelings without doing anything about them (except for acting awkward around each other and being occasionally sweet/softly-flirty). I’m guessing, as there are rumours about the fifth season being aired in 2022/2023, if the show continues, the writers will have enough decency to explain how the situation was resolved between Molly and Sherlock, and not the ugly way they did it on Twitter. Knowing Sherlock, he would not know what to do with his feelings, how to play it out. If I had to guess, if the writers go the “Sherlock and Molly getting a bit closer” road, they will probably kill her and she will mention their confession from “The Final Problem” within her last breath. Or, maybe, if they decide to finish the show after the fifth season, they’ll show us an open ending? Like, we will be forever wondering: did they or did they not end up together…?

 And I seriously wonder why the authors insist so much on Irene Adler being the only “love interest” of Sherlock. Like… yes, of course, there is a lot of sexual tension between the two of them but it is not romantic. Not even a little bit. Irene provided the proof that yes, Sherlock also has human desires, like sex for instance, but… I don’t see any attachment. I prefer Molly because she brings out the sensitive, vulnerable part of Sherlock, he knows he can be himself, THE TRUE SELF, with her, without having to defend himself with sarcasm and rudeness (he does it often in her presence at the beginning because he knows she is able to see through him but gives up eventually, even more after the roof fall). They remind me of The Hunger Games quote:

 What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses.

 And I think that’s what Molly is to Sherlock.

#sherlock #sherlolly #john watson #molly hooper #irene adler #sherlock holmes #benedict cumberbatch #thoughts

[kystarlight17]

Isashiki Jun’s  Makeover

Mostly based on Discord shenanigans where we talked about Miyuki’s hat and the author wanting Miyuki to be good looking because the power of Chrisawa was too strong. I also took some lines from a film called Not another teenage movie. Hope you guys enjoy!

Jun was deep into the heartwarming story of Kiyoko learning to find her inner princess that Tsuraga Ren has always seen in her when a knock echoed throughout the room thus destroying his concentration.

He glanced at the clock and noted that it was too early for Tetsu to visit him. A part of him wanted to ignore the knocking in favour of the story he was currently engrossed in but it was persistent. Grudgingly he got up and made his way over.

“Alright, alright quit knockin would ya! I’m coming!” he shouted as he made the short distance over. Opening the door he was slightly surprised to see the number one catcher standing there, his trademark smirk in place.

“Evening, Jun-senpai” he greeted,

Jun squinted suspiciously at him, “What’s up Miyuki?” he asked with cautious curiosity. 

Miyuki grinned “Is it okay if we talk inside senpai?” he asked,

Jun then felt genuinely curious as Miyuki hardly asks for help from the third years, nevermind his own batch mates. Being the good senpai he was, he stood aside and opened the door wider to allow the second year in.

Jun observed his actions as Miyuki took off his shoes at the entrance and started observing the room. Jun’s prized shougo manga collection taking a proud prominence in the room of course. Jun then pointed to a bed whose owner he was sure was still out practicing and wouldn’t be back in a few hours. Miyuki occupied the indicated spot and Jun made himself comfy in his own bed. He carefully set aside the manga and pinned his stare on the second year who was still eyeing his collection.

“So Miyuki what is it?” he asked,

Miyuki then became uncharastically shy as he scratched the back of his baseball cap before sighing in defeat, “How do you appeal to someone?” he asked.

Jun raised a quizzical eyebrow at this but answered teasingly “Appealing to someone? First you gotta improve on your personality you brat”,

Miyuki huffed because he is aware he may be rough around the edges but you can’t expect someone to change their personality overnight. 

“I’m serious senpai”,

Jun raised his hands up placatingly as he,too, was aware that Miyuki’s personality was not everyone’s cup of tea but for certain people it helps to keep them on their toes.

“Well everyone knows being good looking is a good way to appeal to someone” Jun stated but he soon exclaimed “Oi I AM giving a serious answer here” when he saw the ‘I know that already’ look on Miyuki’s face.

“I can’t help you if you don’t give me some details to work with” muttered Jun crossing his arms “Like are you tryin to appeal to a girl? A boy? Some other adult that’s not the coaching staff? Who? Cause context matters you know”

Miyuki was silent again as he stared off to the side and Jun allowed the second year to stew it over. It’s not everyday Jun would get the privilege of seeing an unsure Miyuki. 

Eventually Jun could hear Miyuki’s quiet answer “It’s Sawamura”.

That was all Jun needed to hear before a diabolical grin took over his face and he quickly wiped it off when Miyuki faced him again.

Jun pretended to think it over, massaging his chin as he found himself in this precious moment. He wasn’t Ryousuke by any means but this was too damn funny of a situation. It was unofficially recognised by the whole school that Chris and Miyuki were the most good looking boys. Chris with his tall stature and eyes with a personality that reminded some girls of a prince charming. Miyuki on the other hand was like a textbook male lead in a shoujo manga with wicked gleaming eyes and charismatic aura that was popular amongst the younger girls and those who don’t know him that well.

Jun was there when Sawamura first entered the scene, the boy from Nagano was brazen in challenging Azuma-senpai. Looking back at that memory Jun remembered a passing thought he had when he saw Miyuki and Sawamura interact at the mound ‘He seems awfully touchy’. He did not give it another thought as afterwards he and Tetsu were muttering about how a middle schooler managed to strike out their senpai.

‘Perhaps there was more to it than that’ thought Jun,

“Well if it’s Sawamura I’m sure you’re fine in that area Miyuki” Jun answered “I’m pretty sure Sawamura still keeps pestering you whenever you’re around”,

Miyuki slightly rolled his eyes at that and answered “Well ever since he was paired up with Chris-senpai Sawamura hasn’t been doing that much”

“Oh? In what way?” asked Jun even though he was well aware that before Sawamura would have been only talking about Miyuki but now Sawamura has been singing high praises for the third year recently and no one else.

“Well what does Chris-senpai have that I don’t?” quipped back Miyuki “Apart from the obvious” he quickly added.

Jun had an idea that Miyuki meant Chris’s skill as the better catcher and not in terms of personality or looks. Sawamura seemed better equipped dealing with Miyuki since the two of them reminded Jun of half the shougo manga couples he has read before.

Then Jun had a brilliant idea.

“Miyuki stand up”, he ordered.

Curious Miyuki stood up and Jun had him stand in the center of the room. Jun slowly walked around him thinking what needed to be improved on. The answer was obvious to him. Jun hated seeing Miyuki style his baseball cap like that. Sure it looked nice on the second year boy but it hid away one of Miyuki’s best features. He pointed and prodded at the second year until Miyuki stood alert like he was greeting the coach. Jun stood before him and crossed his arms once more. He looked straight into Miyuki’s eyes in order to convey his seriousness.

“Okay I know what you need to do” he stated,

“What?” asked Miyuki

Jun grinned mischievously, “It might seem crazy but you just have to trust me”.

Miyuki silently nodded as Jun slowly made his way over. Jun could see Miyuki tracking his every move, curious as to what stunt Jun was going to pull over him. Internally laughing he quickly swiped the hat off the catcher who squawked in protest and ruffled it.

“That’s it” exclaimed Jun looking at his masterpiece. A hatless Miyuki.

“I’m a miracle worker” he continued directing Miyuki towards the floor length mirror propped in the corner. 

------

“You look excited,” stated Tetsu as he shovelled some rice into his mouth. It was one of the rare days where Tetsu decided to have breakfast at Seido rather than eating at home. However, a very excited Jun from last night was adamant that the captain should sleep over so that Tetsu can see something interesting happening during breakfast. 

“I’m curious about what you wanted me to see,” he continued.

Jun nodded absentmindedly as his attention was all over the place. A part of his mind on whatever Tetsu was saying, the other on the clock, some at the cafeteria door and the rest on a very awake southpaw pitcher. Jun was too excited to fall asleep after Miyuki left the room with new knowledge and after a long study session with Tetsu. He was a sucker for makeover scenes and shoujo-esque plot lines. This situation was both and Jun would have kicked himself if he had missed the opportunity to influence something. Even though Miyuki didn’t need a lot of work, it was still a makeover scene. Who knew a hat could change a person that much!

Soon he heard Kuramochi’s signature laugh which meant Miyuki was not that far behind. Jun nudged Tetsu, gaining his attention.

“Captain, may I present to you the new and improved Miyuki Kazuya”, he declared within the captain’s earshot only, jutting his chin towards the cafeteria doors which opened as if on cue.

Then because it was Miyuki Kazuya off all people, he walked in as if he was in slow mode like some teen movie from the states. 

Tetsu was quick to notice what Jun meant ,“So his hat is gone?”, he quizzically observed 

“Yup”, Jun proudly declared now fully engrossed watching Miyuki making his way over to Eijun who was not aware that the catcher has entered the cafeteria. The two third years watched as Miyuki sat directly across the southpaw who was distracted with his food. Miyuki must have said  something to gain Eijun’s attention and Jun was particularly amused when Eijun did a double take when he landed his gaze on the grinning catcher.

“You gave Miyuki tips on how to style his hair?”, Tetsu asked and Jun hummed in reply. Last night, much to the catcher’s confusion, Jun directed Miyuki on how to style it. It wasn’t a demanding style as it would only take up 3 minutes of his day. Miyuki’s hair in its natural state was nice and all but it’s the little details that count, Chris couldn't achieve his current hairdo without a little bit of help anyhow. It was something he learnt from his sisters and shougo manga, it’s all about the details.

Miyuki seemed to be appreciating Jun’s wisdom based on the smile he was currently sporting as Sawamura looked dazed looking at the catcher.

“Should I tell the other third years sans Chris about the new stakes?” asked Tetsu once he took his gaze away from the two.

“You betcha” Jun happily replied digging into his breakfast, the betting pool getting bigger with higher stakes as more and more people decided to join in. He had a personal stake in it to be honest. 

It all started when he made a casual observation to Ryousuke that Sawamura had a type and it wasn’t catchers. Ryousuke retaliated that it was baseball skills first then looks last. They made a bet to see which one Sawamura fell into and with Jun’s latest involvement he wondered how Ryousuke would even it up.

#daiya no a act ii #miyuki kazuya #sawamura eijun #isashiki jun #daiya no ace #ace of diamond #fanfic #short fanfic #makeover #rip miyuki's hat #but at the same time i want to see it again #misawa #miyusawa #all hail shoujo king jun #makeovers

[writingfromkitchenator]

Tony ~ Kleptomaniac

Alphabet Challenge Masterlist (700 Followers)

Words: 1,364

Warnings: Absent annoying behaviour, early dating, telling of secrets, mentions of stealing, fluff

Tony spun in his chair for the umpteenth time, as if it would still help him think instead of making him just feel dizzy.  He lets out another sigh, Bruce still ignoring him from his space on the other side of the room.

He begins tapping his pen on his desk, staring blankly out the closest window, his mind still coming up blank.  The tapping didn’t bother him, in fact, he barely even noticed that he was doing it, but it quickly became clear that Bruce had had enough.

“Is something wrong Tony?” Bruce asked, taking his glasses off and rubbing the bridge of his nose.  “You’re being awfully…persistent over there.”

Tony blinks and stares at his hand as he keeps tapping the pen for a moment before he shakes his head. “I’m just thinking.”

“Yeah, too much, as usual.” Bruce frowns at him.  “I haven’t seen you this restless since Thor asked you-”

“We don’t mention that Bruce,” Tony said flatly, giving Bruce a stern look.  “And if you really must know, I’ve been trying to work out what to give Y/N for her birthday.”

“That’s all?”  Bruce asked and then laughed.  “I was starting to worry that something serious was coming up that you hadn’t told us about.”

Tony purses his lips. “This is serious Bruce.”

Bruce was grinning though. “Uh huh, more serious than when you finally asked her out several months ago?  Or more serious than when you wanted to plan the perfect first kiss? Come on Tony, Y/N is with you for you, not some perfectly planned moments which, by the way, seem to have a way of going wrong.”

“And I hate that you’re right,” Tony said bitterly.  “So thanks for pointing that out.”

“You’re welcome,” Bruce chuckled.  “Are you really that short on ideas?”

Tony sighed.  “I just wanted it to be something special.”

“Then be yourself,” Bruce said.  “And just talk to her about what she wants.”

“What’s the point in that?” Tony asked, frowning at him.  “It’s not much of a present if she knows.”

Bruce sighs, knowing that Tony won’t drop it.  He thinks for a moment and then looks seriously at Tony.  “If I give you an idea, you have to swear not to tell her where you got it from.”

Tony blinks, staring at him, before leaning forward in his chair.  “Alright?  I’m all ears here.”

He does a quick check around before his gaze returns to Tony.  “Has she told you about her little problem?”

“Problem?”  Tony frowns.  “As in...what exactly?”

Bruce sighs again.  “Of course not, well, and again you’re not hearing this from me, Y/N suffers from kleptomania.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up, staring at Bruce as if he’d grown an extra head.  “You’re kidding?”

He shakes his head.  “She keeps it carefully in control of course, especially around the tower, but sometimes it does slip up.  Her main coping mechanism though, as she’s convinced herself that it works, is that she collects sea shells, “steals” them from the ocean as she puts it.”  Bruce smiles. “She has quiet the collection too, proudly displays them in her room and keeps them well ordered.”

Tony’s mind whirled and before he even really thought it over, he slid over the nearest computer and started typing.

“That was quick.” Bruce muttered.

He shoots a look back at him.  “Thanks Bruce, I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than that,” Bruce smiles, watching as Tony’s gaze focuses on the screen.  “But I’ll let it go for now.”

It was early morning when there was a knock on your door and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, knowing that only one person would disturb you this early, birthday or not.

Sure enough, allowing the door to open, Tony was standing there with a sheepish look quickly hidden by a grin.

“Happy birthday!”  He said quickly, even as you laugh at him.

“Thank you,” Accepting his kiss on your cheek.  “Have some early plans do we?”

“Just eager to spend the day with my girl.”  Tony fidgets with something behind his back.  “If you want to of course.”

“Nothing would make me happier Tony,” You said with a laugh, your eyes travelling to where his hands were. “Now, what are you hiding there?”

Tony pulls out a carefully wrapped present and you couldn’t but feel heat creep up into your cheeks.

“You didn’t have to you know,” You said quietly, accepting the gift.  “We haven’t been-”

“I wanted to,” He said quickly, holding his hands over yours for a moment.  “I know you’re not usually one for gifts, but this is special.”

Holding his gaze for a moment, you give him a shy smile before opening the present carefully, your breath catching in your throat as the most beautiful shell that you’d ever seen.

Tony was biting his lip. “Do you like it?”

You hold it carefully in your hand, turning it over and admiring it, a grin slowly overtaking your expression.  “I love it Tony, thank you.”

He lets out an audible breath, but quickly hides it with a smile.  “Oh good, that makes me feel a lot better.”

“How did you find out I liked shells?”  You asked, walking into the room, not minding Tony following.

“A little birdy told me,” Tony said and then he stopped and stared at your collection, one that had filled up an entire wall.  “Wow, he didn’t say anything about it like that.”

“Uh, so Bruce then.”

“What?”  Tony said quickly, snapping his gaze to you.  “No, no of course not.”

You laughed.  “I hate to tell you this Tony, but I’ve only told two people in the tower, a man and a woman, and seeing as you’re also not likely to ask Nat for help on a present…”

Tony’s mouth opened and closed a few times.  “Please don’t tell him I told you.”

“My lips are sealed.” You said.  “And in truth, I was going to tell you soon anyway, I mean, you could’ve just asked me what I wanted.”

“That would’ve spoiled the surprise,” Tony said.  “And I wish people would stop telling me that.  I went through so many items in my head that I almost lost count, but I know you’re not the expensive type, when Bruce told me about the shells, I came very close to buying the most expensive one I could find, before realising you probably would’ve just hit me.”

Laughing, you shake your head.  “I would’ve given you several options Tony.”

He purses his lips for a moment before eyeing your collection.  “Well, I still think I picked pretty well.”

“You did,” You give his hand a squeeze and head for your shelf, starting to rearrange a few items. “I suppose Bruce also mentioned my other little problem?”

Tony nods.  “He did, and while I’m more than happy to hear that you’re managing it, I also want you to know that you can steal something from me at any time, I have too much any way.”

You give a soft laugh. “Thank you Tony, I’m glad to know that I have your support.”

“Of course you do,” Tony sounded a little surprised.  “I’m not about to let missing useless objects be a deal breaker, we all have our little quirks, I believe I have a few myself that you ignore.”

You grin at him.  “When did you become an expert?”  You asked, placing the shell carefully on the shelf, although you already guessed what his answer was going to be.

“Last night,” His smirk quickly turning to a chuckle as you shot him an impetuous look.  “Come on Y/N, does it really matter?”

You smile at him and kiss his cheek.  “Of course not, I was just curious.  Thank you Tony.”

Tony beams at you and catches you around the waist as you go to step away.  “While you are very welcome, I’m sure you can do better than that.”

Giggling, you cup his cheeks and press your lips eagerly to his, Tony not bothering to lose his smile even as he holds you close.  “Now, what other mischief can we get up to on this joyous day?”

#marvel #avengers #tony #tony x reader #short #drabbles

[memeingovermemes]

sock opera -- gravity falls starters:

Feel free to edit pronouns/names/titles where appropriate!

❝  today is the big day .  ❞ ❝  you ready ?  ❞ ❝  this is it .  ❞ ❝  with your brains and my laser focus ,  there is literally nothing that can distract us from - did you hear that ? ❞ ❝  all my life i've been dreaming - of a love that's right for me, and now i finally know her name and it's - literacy ~  ❞ ❝  just when i was getting over ___  ,  of course ,  you show up at my doorstep .  ❞  /  ❝  oh ,  yeah ,  i forgot about ___ .  did not care for ___ .  ❞ ❝  i'll type ,  you read .  ❞ ❝  you were late on your cue .  ❞ ❝  hey ,  hey .  be good to each other .  ❞ ❝  hey !  guess who's ___ ?  i am !  care to learn more ?  i bet you do .  you like to learn .  ❞ ❝  a lot of people think puppets are dumb or just for kids or something .  ❞ ❝  so when's your next puppet show ?  ❞ ❝  i mean ,  you can't really love puppets if you're not throwing puppet shows ,  right ?  ❞ ❝  oh ,  what are the details ?  ❞  /  ❝  there are so many details .  ❞ ❝  ___ , how hard do you think it would be to write and compose a sock puppet rock opera and live pyrotechnics by friday ?  ❞ ❝  i don't know what happened .  i got lost in his eyes and his ponytail and  -  ❞ ❝  if you help me with this for just a couple of days ,  i promise i'll help you .  ❞ ❝  please .  pretty please .  ❞ ❝  it's for love ,  ___ .  ❞ ❝  we're close to something big here .  i can feel it .  ❞ ❝  just a warning ,  people's eyes will get wet ,  'cause they'll be crying from laughing ,  from how tragic it is !  ❞ ❝  it's what makes life worth living .  ❞ ❝  not even gonna ask .  ❞ ❝  last time you got this sleep deprived you tried to eat your own shirt .  ❞ ❝  just a few more tries .  ❞ ❝  i can't take that sound anymore .  i hate !  you !  sound !  ❞ ❝  there has to be some shortcut or clue .  ❞ ❝  i think i know a guy .  ❞ ❝  well ,  well ,  well ,  you're awfully persistent ,  ___ .  ❞ ❝  hats off to you !  ❞ ❝  did you miss me ?  admit it ,  you missed me .  ❞ ❝  it was just a job ,  kid .  no hard feelings .  ❞ ❝  i've been keeping an eye on you since then and i must say ,  i'm impressed .  ❞ ❝  you deserve a prize .  here ,  have a head that's always screaming !  ❞ ❝  the point is ,  i like you .  ❞ ❝  i only ask for a small favor in return .  ❞  /  ❝  i'd never do a favor for you .  ❞ ❝  don't forget who defeated you last time !  ❞ ❝  hey ,  wanna' hear my impression of you in about 3 seconds ?  ❞ ❝  still ignoring this .  ❞ ❝  whoa ,  bag check for ___'s eyes !  ❞ ❝  ___ ,  i told you to get some sleep last night .  ❞ ❝  it's like if coffee and nightmares had a baby .  ❞ ❝  last night i had a dream with ___ in it .  ❞ ❝  like i'd actually trust ___ ,  right ?  ❞ ❝  today is the day that the mystery twins are back in action .  ❞ ❝  i'll help you crack that code .  ❞ ❝  i cried ,  like ,  eight times .  ❞ ❝  it's so great to see you ! ❞ ❝  your passion is so refreshing ,  ___ ,  unlike the girl from last night's puppet show .  single-stitch on one puppet and cross-stitch on the other ?  i was like ,  uh-uh .  ❞ ❝  naturally i deleted her off my cell phone contacts list .  ❞ ❝  i know you won't let me down though .  ❞ ❝  you know ,  ___ ,  you look pretty sweaty .  you should really take your shirt off . ❞  /  ❝  ... right ?  aren't we all thinking that ?  ❞ ❝  how many eyes does a face have again ?  ❞ ❝  i'm not okay .  ❞ ❝  hey !  you just said you were going to help me !  ❞ ❝  ___ ,  do you seriously think that your random crush of the week is more important than uncovering the mysteries of this town ?  ❞ ❝  you're obsessed .  ❞  /  ❝  i'm obsessed ?  look at you .  ❞ ❝  you look like a vampire .  and not the hot kind .  ❞ ❝  well ,  i can help you with tickles !  ❞ ❝  you know what ?  i'll do it on my own .  ❞ ❝  i'm gonna lose everything ?  i only have one more try ?  ❞ ❝  well ,  well ,  well .  someone's looking desperate .  ❞ ❝  i thought i told you to leave me alone .  ❞ ❝  i can help you ,  kid !  you just need to hear out my demands .  ❞ ❝  what crazy thing do you want ,  anyway ?  to eat my soul ?  to rip out my teeth ?  are you gonna replace my eyes with baby heads or something ?  ❞ ❝  all i want is a puppet .  ❞ ❝  what are you playing at ?  ❞ ❝  i don't know ,  man . ___ worked really hard on these .  ❞ ❝  seems to me one little puppet is a small price to pay to learn all the secrets of the universe .  ❞ ❝  how many times have you sacrificed for her ,  huh ?  and when has she ever returned the favor ?  ❞ ❝  tick tock ,  kid !  ❞ ❝  so what puppet are you gonna pick anyway ?  ❞ ❝  eenie meenie mynee... YOU !  ❞ ❝  what did you do to my body ?!  ❞ ❝  sorry ,  kid ,  but you're my puppet now !  ❞ ❝  this can't be happening .  this can't be happening !  ❞ ❝  man ,  it's been so long since i've inhabited a body !  ❞ ❝  pain is hilarious !  ❞ ❝  why are you doing this ?  i thought we had a deal !  ❞ ❝  i've got big plans coming and i don't need you getting in my way .  ❞ ❝  race you to the bottom of the stairs !  ❞ ❝  hey !  human soda. i'm gonna' drink it like a person !  ❞ ❝  it's got to be around here somewhere .  ❞ ❝  i've hidden it !  somewhere you'll never find it in a million years .  ❞ ❝  i hope you don't mind .  i'm gonna go before you process this sentence . okay, bye !  ❞ ❝  no ,  ___ ,  don't listen to him !  ❞ ❝  that's not me !  ❞ ❝  without a vessel to possess ,  you're basically a ghost .  ❞ ❝  HELP ME !  ❞ ❝  i'm gonna stop you ,  ___ . i'm gonna find that journal before you do and i'm gonna stop you !  ❞ ❝  but how can you stop me ...  if you don't EXIST ?  ❞ ❝  got to get my body back before he does something crazy with it !  ❞ ❝  ah ,  nothing like the theater ,  huh ?  ❞ ❝  hey ,  ___ ,  want to hear the exact time and date of your death ?  ❞ ❝  are you kidding me?  i would never miss...! ... whatever this is .  ❞ ❝  so hold your horses !  ❞  /  ❝ oh ,  i'll hold my horses .  i'll hold them .  ❞ ❝  you monster .  ❞ ❝  i'm sorry ,  ___ ,  but i have to go fight in the war .  ❞ ❝  i'll wait for you ,  ___ !  i'll wait for you .  ❞ ❝  it's come to life !  the puppet books didn't warn me about this !  ❞ ❝  you need to help me .  ❞ ❝  ___ tricked me .  ❞ ❝  it's the only hope to get me back in my body !  ❞ ❝  i'm sorry .  it looks funny when you're mad .  ❞ ❝  want to kiss and sing at the same time ?  ❞ ❝  oh-oh ,  but why would you want to do that ?  ❞ ❝  shh .  you wouldn't want to ruin the show  ~  ❞ ❝  whoops !  it's slipping .  ❞ ❝  no way .  this is ___'s .  i'd never give it away .  ❞ ❝  hmm .  you didn't seem to have a problem taking it for your own play .  ❞  /  ❝  or ditching him when he needed you .  ❞ ❝  so come to your senses !  ❞ ❝  i mean ,  who would sacrifice everything they've worked for just for their dumb sibling ?  ❞  /  ❝  ___ would .  ❞ ❝  get out of my brother's body ,  you evil triangle !  ❞ ❝  whoa !  children fighting .  i can sell this !  ❞ ❝  i'm a being of pure energy with no weakness !  ❞  /  ❝  true ,  but you're in ___'s body .  and i know all HIS weaknesses !  ❞ ❝  AAH !  body spasms !  what are these ?!  ❞ ❝  what is this feeling ?  ❞ ❝  my body is burning !  ❞ ❝  i can't move these stupid noodle legs !  ❞ ❝  curse you ,  useless flesh sticks !  ❞ ❝  body shutting down ...  ❞ ❝  YES !  i'm in my own body and - it's just as underwhelming as i remember .  ❞ ❝  everything hurts .  ❞ ❝  this isn't the last you'll hear of me !  ❞ ❝  big things are coming .  you can't stop me !  ❞ ❝  don't worry .  ❞ ❝  i've seen enough movies to know this is the part where the audience thinks it was all part of the show and loves it !  ❞ ❝  don't speak to me ,  ___ .  ❞ ❝  you've made a mockery of my art form .  ❞ ❝  i might have dodged a bullet there .  ❞ ❝  i'm sorry about all this .  it's my fault .  ❞ ❝  i spent all week obsessing over a dumb guy .  but the dumb guy i should have cared about was you .  ❞ ❝  what did ___ do to my hand ?!  ❞ ❝  nothing a little sleep can't fix !  ❞ ❝  seriously ,  i need to go to the hospital .  ❞ ❝  what did one sock puppet say to the other sock puppet ?  ❞ ❝  you look like you could use a hand !  ❞ ❝  that joke was really something .  ❞  /  ❝  yeah ,  something terrible !  ❞

#rp #roleplay #rp starters #gravity falls #sock opera #rp meme #roleplay starters #disney #long post #quote starters #starters #starter memes. #tw: possession #tw: death mention

[rp-meme-central]

Gravity Falls - Sock Opera - sentence starters

1. “Don’t you worry, ______. With your brains and my laser focus, there’s literally nothing that can distract us from... did you hear that?”

2. “Just when I was getting over _______, of course you show up at my doorstep!” 

3. “Oh yeah, I forgot about ______. Did not care for ______.” 

4. “Hey, guess who’s ______? I am! Care you learn more? I bet you do. You like to learn.” 

5. “You’re amazing with those puppets.”

6. “Are you kidding? I’m puppet-crazy! People call me puppet-crazy ______!”

7. “How hard do you think it would be to write and compose a sock puppet rock opera with lights, original music and live pyrotechnics by Friday?”

8. “I can’t wait to get to the bottom of this laptop. We’re close to something big here, I can feel it.” 

9. “All right, the play is going to be called _______. Just a warning: people’s eyes will get wet. ‘Cause they’ll be crying. From laughing. From how tragic it is.” 

10. “Come on, ______. You just gotta roll with ______’s craziness. It’s what makes life worth living.” 

11. “Not even gonna ask.” 

12. “Don’t stay up all night, _______. Last time you got this sleep-deprived, you tried to eat your own shirt.” 

13. “Just a few more tries.” 

14. “Well, well, well. You’re awfully persistant, _______. Hat’s off to you.”

15. “Did you miss me? Admit it, you missed me.” 

16. “It was just a job, ______. No hard feelings.”

17. “You deserve a prize. Here, have a head that’s always screaming.”

18. “How about you let me give you a hint, huh? All I ask is that you do me a small favor in return.” 

19. “Well, if you ever change your mind, I’ll be here for you. Ready to make a deal.” 

20. “Hey, wanna hear my impression of you in about three seconds? AAAUUUGHH!”

21. “Still ignoring this.” 

22. “I told you to get some sleep last night. Here, wake up with some ______. It has plastic dinosaurs in it.” 

23. “It’s like if coffee and nightmares had a baby.” 

24. “It’s so great to see you! I was just working on the world’s greatest puppet show. It has puppets!” 

25. “Y’know ______, you look pretty sweaty. You should really take your shirt off. ... Right? Are we all thinking that?” 

26. “How many eyes does a face have, again?”

27. “Do you really think your random crush of the week is more important than uncovering the mysteries of this _______? You’re obsessed!” 

28. “I’m obsessed? Look at you. You look like a vampire, and not the hot kind.” 

29. “Well, well, well. Someone’s looking desperate.” 

30. “I can help you, ______, you just have to hear out my demands.” 

31. “What crazy thing do you want, anyway? To eat my soul? To rip out my teeth? Are you going to replace my eyes with baby heads or something?” 

32. “What?! This can’t be happening! What did you do to my body?!” 

33. “Sorry, ______, but you’re my puppet now.” 

34. “Man, it has been so long since I’ve inhabited a body.” 

35. “I don’t understand. Why are you doing this? I thought we had a deal!” 

36. “Wait, no, ______, don’t listen to him/her/them! That’s not me!” 

37. “Welcome to the mindscape, ______. Without a vessel to possess, you’re basically a ghost.” 

38. “I’m gonna stop you, ______! I’m gonna find that ______ before you do, and I’m gonna stop you!” 

39. “Hey, ______, want to hear the exact time and date of your death?” 

40. “Are you kidding me? I would never miss... whatever this is.” 

41. “______ tricked me! He/she/they stole my body, and now he’s/she’s/they’re after the ______.” 

42. “You have to find the _______ before ______ destroys it. It’s the only hope to get me back in my body!” 

43. “Ha ha ha! Sorry. It looks funny when you’re mad.” 

44. “Shhhh. You wouldn’t want to ruin the show.” 

45. “It’s slipping. Why don’t you hand that ______ over?” 

46. “No way! This is ______’s! I’d never give it away!” 

47. “Who would sacrifice everything they’ve worked for just for their dumb sibling?” 

48. “Get out of my ______’s body, you evil _______!” 

49. “Whoa! Children fighting! I could sell this.” 

50. “You can’t stop me! I’m a being of pure energy with no weakness!” 

51. “Yes! I’m in my own body! And it’s just as underwhelming as I remember. Ow, everything hurts.” 

52. “Don’t worry, I’ve seen enough movies to know that this is the part where the audience thinks this is all part of the show and loves it. Cue applause!” 

53. “Did he/she/they just make out with his/her/their puppets?” 

54. “I’m sorry about all this. It’s my fault your puppets got ruined.” 

55. “I’m sorry, _______. I spent all week obsessing over a dumb ______. But the dumb _____ I should have cared about... was you.” 

56. “Seriously, I need to go to the hospital.” 

#rp memes #sentence starters #Gravity Falls #Sock Opera

[sherlockmormorrp]

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say STAND WITH HONG KONG AGAINST THE CCP!

You both like teenlock, and johnlock.

Stranger: Practice had run a bit late, which may or may not have been deliberate, considering it meant John would bump into his chemistry teacher on his way through the school car park. It was just starting to get dark and just starting to rain, the rugby captain still wandering around in his rugby shorts smeared with mud, bag slung over his shoulder, when he finally locked up the sports shed and spotted Mr Holmes heading to his car. Mr Holmes, who was breathtakingly brilliant and clever and gorgeous and yeah, okay, he wasn't the only one with a crush on the teacher, but he sure was the only one who actually got on with him alright too. The man had little patience for careless, indignant students, but when it came to John he was a little bit friendlier, a little bit smilier. Or maybe that was John's imagination. Maybe the latter. Still, that didn't stop John from grinning and giving a wave as their paths crossed. "Well hey, sir. You're here late. Running another experiment in the lab?" John smirked.

You: (reading)

You: Sherlock looked up as he heard one of his favorite students approach him. John was right, he had just finished up his experiment, access to the chemistry lab was one of the main reasons he still taught. He could get incredibly frustrated with his students even for teaching the AP chemistry course they could still be rather dim. John, however, actually tried in class even if he got the equations wrong Sherlock could see he was trying and appreciated that. He eyed the other before he checked his wristwatch, "John? Why on earth are you here so late?" he asked, "I'm fairly certain practice ends sooner than this?" he asked. (Is this highschool or Uni?)

Stranger: [I'm thinking high school! John's 18] The student gave a little shrug, checking his own watch. Oops, yeah. It /was/ a bit of a late one today. But still, they had a real match coming up soon, it was normal for practices to run a little over so close to season. "Yeah, guess we lost track of time," John chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his damp neck. "I help coach pack things up at the end of practice anyway, and some of the lads are a bit sloppy so we worked them over time tonight. They needed it. But don't worry, I promise I won't be too knackered for class tomorrow." He flashed Sherlock another smile.

You: Sherlock nodded, John was very fit from rugby. He was a clear athlete in his build but yet wasn't a complete jar head, he took his studies seriously and Sherlock admired that. "Oh-" he frowned as it started to rain, he used his briefcase to cover his head. "How are you getting home, John?" he asked, concerned for the boys wellbeing in the rain and this time of day. (sounds good to me)

Stranger: It was incredibly sweet, the concern in Sherlock's tone then. Though surely he'd be concerned for any of his students wandering around this time of night. John tried not to let it get to his head, as he shrugged. "I was just gonna walk. It's not that far, really," he assured him, seemingly unfazed as the rain started to come down. In all fairness he probably would've caught the bus, but he'd missed the last one, running practice so late... but oh well. "Spot of rain never hurt!"

You: Sherlock frowned in concern. "Are you sure? I can give you a ride home." he offered, "I insist really. I'm not letting you walk in this rain at this time of night. " he unlocked his car. "You can put your bag in the trunk." he told, not giving John the option of saying no. He couldn't in good faith let John walk home, it was dangerous. Sherlock hurried into the drivers seat to get out of the rain, he started his car and waited for the boy to get in.

Stranger: It... was an incredibly kind gesture, but John wasn't sure it was such a good idea, agreeing to be in a confined space with Mr Holmes. Not that it really mattered, of course, nothing would happen other than maybe John making a fool out of himself. He hesitated for a moment, but Sherlock really wasn't giving him an inch to protest, so he gave in and put his bag in the back seat, grabbing his jersey out of it. "I'm real, real sorry if I get dirt all through your car, sir," John said hesitantly, placing the relatively clean jersey on the seat before he got in and sat down, careful not to shed mud everywhere. "Thanks for this though, if you're really sure. I don't mean to be a bother, and it's really not that far."

You: Sherlock chuckled, John was very polite, not like most of the rude students he had. "You're fine, John. I can't let anything happen to my favorite student now can I ?" he shot him a smile before he headed out of the parking lot. "Just direct me to your home." he told. He turned to look at him, "Your mother and father don't pick you up after practice?" he asked, "Especially when it's this late?"

Stranger: Favourite student? John's face lit up at that, even if he was sure Sherlock was mostly teasing. Surely his favourite student would be someone clever and passionate and witty like he was, not plain old John who tried his damn best but still wasn't anything exceptional. "Hell, I'll try not to let that get to my head, Mr Holmes, but no promises," he chuckled, before navigating the way for his teacher. It was still roughly a fifteen minute drive, and John was gonna make sure to make the most of it. He hesitated when Sherlock asked about his parents, looking down at his hands before shrugging. "Oh, you know. Dad's busy working late, and Mum's not too well at the moment," he replied, keeping it vague.

You: Sherlock nodded, noticing the change in the boys body language at the mention of his parents. "I'm sorry to hear that." he muttered softly. "Well, if you're at school this late again you come to my the lab. You'll most likely find me there at all hours. It isn't exactly safe for you to be walking so far this late." he turned to look at him briefly while at a stoplight. "You certainly look like you can handle yourself, but no need in putting yourself in danger." John had a short stature but he was very muscular thanks to rugby and could definitely hold his own in a fight, but why subject himself to unneccisary danger. "I can give you a ride home if needed." he assured him.

Stranger: John couldn't help but smile at the offer, genuinely touched by the concern and generosity. Shit, it wasn't often someone went out of their way for him. And for it to come from Mr Holmes, was... well, really lovely. "Thank you, sir," he said genuinely, entirely grateful. "I wouldn't want to be a bother, especially if it's a bit of a detour for you, but I do really appreciate it." He found himself looking up at the teacher warmly for a little too long and finally glanced away, ears pink. "Some of the other kids say some awful things about you, Mr Holmes, but you're the best teacher - the best man, I think - that I've ever known."

You: Sherlock chuckled at John's statement, "I'm sure most of what the kids say about me is true." he chuckled. "I am not the easiest teacher. I actually expect my students to learn and apply themselves. Unfortunately that isn't instituted with the rest of the teachers." he said with an eye roll. "But thank you, John. Really it's just a ride home." he couldn't help but smile though, it was sweet of John to say. He was at least glad that one of his students didn't completely hate him.

Stranger: Right. Yeah. Of course. Just a ride home. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself. But even still, it was more than anything anyone had done for him in a while, and it was really, really nice. So John just shrugged and smiled, looking out the window at the rainy street sliding past. "I still really appreciate it. And I think that's part of what makes you so good as a teacher. You don't put up with slack. You push us to do our best. And I know mine's average at best, but you still get me trying my hardest, and I'm grateful for it," he murmured, glancing back over to the elder. "And yeah, you can be a bit of a prat sometimes too but that's half the fun," he teased.

You: Mr. Holmes grinned at John calling him a prat. "You are very clever, John." he praised. "You are far beyond average." he assured him, "And what you lack in your arithmetic you make up for with your persistence. Chemistry does not come easily at all and it's very easy to get flustered and quit. But you don't. You come to me with questions, you're engaged during class and you come to tutoring. That means a lot more to a teacher than the actual grade you may get on tests." he let out a soft sigh. "I know I am a strict teacher but I don't think many students realize that if I see an effort that a student is trying I will bump their grade to reflect that effort. "

Stranger: The praise meant a lot to John, coming from Mr Holmes. He couldn't quite will away the blush that rose in his cheeks and the tips of his ears as the teacher reassured him that he wasn't quite as much of a dunce as he often felt, and he smiled up at Sherlock for a moment. "Well, I'm glad you can see when someone's trying. Though hell, I'd hate to see what my grades would look like if I /wasn't/ putting so much effort into it," he laughed lightly. Not that his grades were bad to begin with, but still. "So all it takes to be your favourite is to try hard and be engaged, huh? Here I was thinking it might've been my charming smile or something."

You: Sherlock looked over to John and immediantly noticed the other was glowing pink with embarssement, he smiled softly to himself finding it very..adorable really. He chuckled at John's statement, only pausing for a moment to access what he said. That statement was awfully... flirty, coming from anyone else mouth of course. John was certainly not flirting with his teacher. That wouldn't be appropriate at all. He hesitated before he spoke, "It doesn't hurt.." he hummed, flashing a smile to the other that was all teeth. "It's just nice to know that there are still students who give a damn." he hummed.

Stranger: The hesitation didn't go amiss, and yeah maybe that had been a little flirtier than John should have allowed, but hell, Sherlock's response almost could've been considered flirty too. Had it come from anyone else, of course. Mr Holmes wasn't the sort of man to flirt with his students, and John needed to remember that. Still, he couldn't help but chuckle at the reply and the toothy grin, quietly delighted. "Of course there are. You make it pretty easy to get invested and interested," John smiled, hoping that wasn't too much of a double entendre.

You: Sherlock rose an eyebrow, "I do?" he asked, "I didn't think my lectures were that enticing.." he frowned as he realized they were getting closer to John's home. Was it sad that this was the most social interaction he had for months? Outside of teaching Sherlock didn't talk to anyone, and he wasn't exactly talking with his students more so at them. He enjoyed John's company, he was clever and very mature.

Stranger: "Are you kidding? Your lectures are easily the best," John assured, honestly surprised that Sherlock didn't realise quite how captivating he was with this content. "No other teacher gets quite as passionate and knows quite as much about their subject as you. You're definitely the easiest to listen to and engage with. Like when you started off about cations and anions and their reactions, that was incredible. It can sometimes be a little hard to keep up with you because your head just runs at a lightning pace, but it's amazing to listen to," John grinned, trying very hard not to be too disappointed by the fact that they were only a few blocks away from his house.

You: Sherlock felt ridicoulous because now he was the one blushing. No one had ever said such nice things to him before. Most found him annoying and pompous for knowing so much about Chemistry. He was happy that John recognized his passion for the subject. He turned to face him, heart warm by his words. "I..Thank you John. That..really means a lot" he admitted. He parked outside of the other's home, a little sad their conversation had to end. "Well.." he muttered to himself. "Don't forget your homework due tomorrow.." he muttered a bit lamely, he didn't know what else to say.

Stranger: The colour in Sherlock's cheeks was far prettier than it had any right to be, and John got a little lost looking up at him for a second there. His stupid, hormonal, teenage brain teased him with the thought of maybe leaning in to... hell, maybe even just kiss him on the cheek. But that was so ridiculously inappropriate and wrong and he quickly shoved that thought aside, heart fluttering. "I won't," he nodded gently, looking up at his house. No, he wasn't looking forward to going home. If only he lived on the other side of town, so they could just keep talking and... well. No, best he get a move on. "Thanks again, Mr Holmes, I really do appreciate it. You're very kind." He opened the door a fraction, and turned back to give Sherlock a warm smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You: Sherlock noticed the hesitation, he frowned a little in worry. He hoped John's home life was alright, he seemed tense at the topic of his parents and the younger man didn't seem to want to leave the car. He nodded and smiled back, "See you tomorrow, John. Don't forget your bag." he reminded.

Stranger: Right, yes, he'd better get a move on before Sherlock started deducing things at home. He stepped out into the rain, and leaned down to look back in the car long enough to smile and say, "have a good night, Mr Holmes. Thanks again." And then he closed the door, grabbed his bag from the trunk, and started up towards his gate. He turned to give Sherlock another wave, before heading up and inside, feeling warm in his chest, smile stuck on his lips.

You: Sherlock didn't leave until he saw John safely enter his home. He ran a hand through his curls and let out a deep breath. John Watson was a very charming boy, but he was exactly that-a boy. A student. Sherlock really sort of overstepped by offering to take him home but that was in good faith. The thoughts he was currently having about the blonde were not so good-willed. He cleared them from his head quickly, the inappropriate thoughts anyways. John was not flirting with him. He was his teacher and John was simply a good student who cared deeply for academics. He made it to his home and entered his lonely apartment and began grading tests.

Stranger: The warm feeling managed to last a little while, at least. He managed to get in, have a shower, and get dinner started before his father got home and the bickering started. Between Dad and Harry constantly arguing and Mum with her anxiety and headaches keeping her in her room most of the day, it was... well, not ideal. But he managed. Ever the caretaker, ever the mediator, he made his family dinner and managed to pry Harry away from stirring their father up even more and managed to miss a second clip around the ears, and so it was fine. It was a fine night. Because he got to go to bed thinking of that blush on Sherlock's cheeks and his damp curls and that silly, toothy grin. When the next morning rolled round, he got to school early, having pushed himself and his sister out the door before their father had a chance to wake up. He wandered into class to find it empty except for Mr Holmes, and smiled. "Well, good morning. Sleep well?"

You: Sherlock looked up from his desk when he heard someone come in, it was very early-no student should be here by now. He was pleased to see John entering his classroom. "Goodmorning, John." he greeted, he tapped his coffee cup with his pen. "Haven't slept actually" he answered honestly. He pushed his chair away from his desk to face John. "What can I help you with, did you have a question on the homework?" he asked.

Stranger: Hadn't slept? Well shit, he looked fairly perky and alert for someone who hadn't slept all night, and there was no way a single coffee was holding him up. Which meant he likely regularly didn't sleep. Which was... well, concerning. "How come you didn't sleep?" John frowned, wandering forward to drop his bag at a desk. He rubbed the back of his neck at the question, hesitant. "Well, not really. Just wanted to get here early," he shrugged, and it wasn't quite a lie, just not the whole truth. But oh, hang on. "Wait, no, could you look something over for me? I struggled a little on question fourteen and I /think/ I got it, I just want to make sure my thought process was right," he said, grabbing his notes and wandering up to Sherlock's desk, leaning against it as he handed the work over.

You: Mr. Holmes smiled at John's concern. "I don't sleep often." he answered. "I'm working a lot, and lose track of time. But I manage." he shrugged, usually until his body collapsed from exhaustion. He nodded when John asked him to look over his work, he took John's paper and scanned the work quickly, he turned his head and noticed just how close John was watching over his shoulder. "These all look good. You are missing a valance electron for this calculation of the lewis dot structure of Potassium Chloride." he explained. "Take another look at it." he told, handing him a pencil from his desk.

Stranger: Still, to lose track of time enough to miss an entire night of sleep? That couldn't be healthy. "You really shouldn't be taking work home with you, you know. I've heard that's killer," he warned with a small smile, before leaning close to watch Sherlock pour over his work. Ah. Bugger. Of course he'd missed an electron. "Damn, and it's so obvious now that you've pointed it out, too," he sighed, leaning in to reach over and correct himself, shoulder brushing against Sherlock's. He tried very hard not to think about it. That, and the pleasant scent of coffee and body wash and chemicals. John sat back a little, cheeks pink again. "Is that right?"

You: Sherlock noticed that damn blush again, was it from the small amount of contact? Of course not, John must be embarrassed about the simple mistake. He smiled and nodded, "Yes, everything looks good." he assured him. "It's easy to miss the little things. But you've clearly mastered the concept which is important," he assured him. He wrote a 100 on the top of the page and handed it back to John. "Very good work, John." he reached for his coffee, taking a sip before he spoke again. "Oh, I'm not staying up all night grading papers. I finished that fairly quickly. I'm working on my own personal experiments. Outside of the ones for class." he explained

Stranger: A 100, even with his slight mistake? Well. John blinked, a smile lighting on his face even though he almost felt like it wasn't quite deserved. "Thank you, sir," he nodded, delighted with the perfect mark and praise. "Really doesn't hurt to flash a smile once in a while, huh?" He teased, before straightening up again. He leaned against Sherlock's desk a little and raised a brow, curious, but also careful not to invade his space too much again. "Yeah? What are you working on at the moment?"

You: Sherlock chuckled softly, "Well.." he hesitated, "I don't mean this in an insulting manner but it is far above Chem 1." he warned, "But I'll try and explain it as best I can." he assured him. He stood and went to the board. "You're familiar with Carbon, obviously. Well, Carbon is a very fascinating element. So fascinating that an entire section of Chemistry is devoted to it. It's called Organic Chemistry. Every living thing contains carbon in one form or another. " he began. "Now, you recall going over Lewis Dot Structures for a visual aspect of how elements are going to combine with other elements. Well Carbon is very interesting because of /how/ it forms with different elements. It has properties that are very unique to Carbon." he drew out the lewis dot structure for carbon. "Organic Chemistry is basically...the study of how carbon combines with different things and what happens." he turned to see if John was following along with him. He tried to remember that John had told him he could talk a bit too fast on accident.

Stranger: John was already captivated, having perched himself on the edge of Sherlock's desk to watch him comfortably, listening to him start on organic chemistry. He remember Mr Holmes had mentioned the term a few times, and had briefly touched on the significance of carbon before, so he was able to keep up so far. And God, he could just listen to Sherlock speak about anything he was interested in all day, if the teacher allowed him. Even just the sound of his voice was - right. No. Don't get distracted. John nodded instead, grinning. "I'm keeping up so far, I think. Please, go on."

You: Sherlock noticed John's look of..almost dozing off and he feared he was boring the other but he insisted he continued. He nodded slowly, "Right- well. As I said Organic Chemistry is incredibly difficult, they don't even allow it to be taught in high school it's strictly at the university level." he explained. "I've been trying for years to get an organic chemistry course put in, at least for the students who think they want a career in something-medical perhaps. It will benefit them greatly." he sighed and shook his head. "Anyways, I've recently redirected my focus to Organic Chem, I dabbled in Nuclear Chemistry for a while but-eh it was boring." he shrugged. Sherlock was far too brilliant to be teaching at a high school that much was clear.

Stranger: It was wonderful, hearing him talk about it be excited about it, and honestly John couldn't help but be excited too, leaning forward slightly, intent. And he also honestly couldn't help but ask the obvious question, really. "Mr Holmes, I mean this with the greatest respect, but what the hell are you doing teaching /high schoolers/?" He asked with a light chuckle, shaking his head. "You should be teaching at a university level, if anything. And then that way you /could/ teach the things you want to, advanced things like organic chem. Your mind is too vast and brilliant to be... not wasted, I guess, because a lot of us still learn so much from you, but Christ."

You: Sherlock turned around and smiled softly, he let out a soft chuckle. "Ah.." he had expected this question, he moved to sit back down at his desk. "That's well..a loaded question, John." he answered. "The nice version?" he asked. "High school is a very important time for a growing mind. A good teacher at this level can determine whether a student decides to continue their education to the Uni level." he answered. "And well..a more practical answer. I am a..very hard man to get along with. I step on toes, I never shy away from what I'm thinking and...that has gotten me into trouble." he admitted.

Stranger: That was a fair point, to be honest. Part of John had almost wanted to be something of a writer, even as a hobby, if not for the rubbish English teacher he'd had two years ago. Which in hindsight was probably for the best, but still. He knew what Sherlock meant. High school teachers had a lot of influence. But the practical answer... well, it just didn't sit right with John. He gently leaned back against the desk and knocked his knee against Sherlock's, with a well-meaning frown. "You're not /that/ difficult to get on with. And if anything, surely you'd get away with that more easily at uni, wouldn't you?"

You: Sherlock chuckled and smiled-almost shy like at John's compliment. "I did work at a Uni for some time...but I pissed off the department head and was fired." he explained. "You'll learn John...that in life its all about pleasing the right people. And well..I've never been very good at that." he laughed softly. "I'd rather focus on science than worry about impressing the right administrators and playing the politics of it all." he rolled his eyes. "I can't be bothered to worry myself with it all."

Stranger: Oh. John immediatley felt bad for bringing it up, and honestly a little angry that someone had dared fire him. For what sounded like a personality difference, no less. It just didn't seem fair. And quite right, Sherlock shouldn't have to worry about the politics of it, surely it should just be about his intellect and his ability to share and teach new information. "I'm really sorry, Mr Holmes. That sounds really rough," John said gently, nudging the elder's foot with his own in an awkward sort of attempt at a comforting gesture. "What about a different university, maybe? But... well, us mere high schoolers are very , very, very lucky to have you regardless." He smiled gently.

You: Sherlock opened his mouth as if he were going to speak but shut it. Deciding he definitely should share too much of his past with his student. "I.." he gave a weak smile at the gesture. "High school is fine for me. Right now," he answered simply. John seemed to look up to him for whatever reason and he didn't want to ruin John's ideal of him by revealing that he was a recovering drug addict. That wasn't very..noble of him. In actuality teaching, high school was recommended, supposed to be less stressful and ease him back into teaching and living sober, blah blah. For now, it was fine, Sherlock missed having access to more advanced lab eqipment, but he meant it. Students like John were starting to make the job seem worth it.

You: (shoudn't**)

Stranger: There was a hesitation, a reluctance in him then that suggested he was holding something back, and as curious as John was, he knew better than to pry. Maybe Sherlock had other reasons too and that was fine. It wasn't his business. Honestly he was grateful the man could share even this much with him. "Well, I'm glad you're here," John said gently and sincerely, with a warm smile. "Oh and hey, I meant to ask, I didn't leave a mess in your car, did I?" He asked with a sheepish, apologetic grin, running a hand through his hair. "Because I'd be very happy to clean it up if I did. I know I was pretty muddy after practice, and being damp and all."

You: Sherlock smiled, ignoring the feeling in his stomach when John said he was glad he was here, no one was ever glad he was in the room. He looked up at John, admiring the way he looked when he was..shy and running his hand through his hair like that. "In all honesty, I didn't even look." he admitted. "Even if you did I'm not worried about, I can easily get the car detailed." he assured him. He looked John over briefly, deducing simple things about him. He'd showered this morning and was wearing a strong aftershave. It seemed he wanted to seem..mature, possibly draw attention from girls. "You're doing well in your other classes?" he asked, "I assume so, I know athletes can't play if they are failing classes."

Stranger: There was a certain way Sherlock was looking at him now, slightly more intensely than before, and oh yeah, John recognised the look he got when he was deducing people. He'd only witnessed the teacher deduce other students aloud three times, when calling them out on excuses or lies or bad behaviour, and it was incredible every time. Being on the receiving end of that look was no less incredible, but certainly a little intimidating. That warmth rose to John's cheeks again, and he swallowed, collecting himself. God he hoped Sherlock couldn't read him too deeply. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. I'm doing really well in bio and phys-ed. The others are all okay," he smiled, before giving a small shrug. "Not /quite/ as well as I'm doing in your class, I'll admit, but then again of course I'm doing the best for my favourite teacher."

You: Sherlock chuckled, "I'd hardly qualify Phys-ed as a class." he mumbled with a playful roll of his eyes. He grinned when John called him his favorite teacher, "Well, I'm well off in anything science. So if you need help with Biology I can help with that as well. Biology and Chemistry work side by side really, nearly everything that happens in the human body is a form of chemistry." he hummed. "And math, but I am absolutely no use in anything English or History." he chuckled.

Stranger: John chuckled lightly, shrugging. Yeah, he couldn't imagine Sherlock would have much interest in things like literature or history. Science, though. Anything and everything scientific, he was sure Sherlock had or would master. "Well thanks, Mr Holmes. I really appreciate it. And you know, I probably could do with a little bit of help with bio," he said carefully. "I swear I'm not just trying to spend more time with you. Although I wouldn't mind that too," he teased with a small smirk, knocking his knee against the teacher's lightly. That wasn't too far, right? Not /too/ flirty?

You: Sherlock was painfully aware of John's third attempt at subtle physical contact with him. He rose an eyebrow, quickly realizing that John was flirting with him. It was hard to believe but he couldn't ignore the obvious- supposed to be subtle hints. Sherlock was incredibly good at reading people and John-well the poor boy was basically an open book. He licked his lips subconsciously as he thought about how to approach this. He gave John a small smile. "Well, You know where to find me. Before or after school, or during my office hours" he answered. He wasn't overstepping, it was just tutoring. John simply saw him as a role model at most, it was nothing to worry about.

Stranger: Okay, so maybe that wasn't quite as subtle as he'd hoped. But hell, if he was being a little too obvious and if Sherlock did realise that maybe this was a little inappropriate, surely the teacher would gently, nicely disengage. Right? And yet, Mr Holmes was practically offering an invitation - a very professional one, of course, for tutoring and nothing more - and that swipe of his tongue over his lips... John swallowed. Oh, he was so letting it get to his head. "Well, maybe I could stay behind after school today? You could tell me more about organic chemistry and help me with my bio paper," he suggested innocently enough, though the colour in his cheeks was such a stupid, blatant giveaway.

You: Oh, Christ that blush. John was smitten, he could see it over his face. Oh god, was the aftershave for him? It did smell nice subjectively but John wasn't supposed to be trying to catch the eye of his teacher. He was supposed to be interested in boys closer to his age, perhaps another rugby player or something. Not his chemistry teacher. Mr. Holmes hesitated for a moment before he nodded, "That'd be fine." he agreed softly, knowing that was a terrible idea but he couldn't say he didn't enjoy John's company. Besides, it wasn't like he was taking him home with him. It would be in a professional environment. Just-tutoring and conversation. That was harmless. Mr. Holmes looked up when the bell rang, he looked to John. "You better get to first period. You don't want to be late." he warned

Stranger: Something in his abdomen did a delightful little somersault when Sherlock agreed to see him at the end of the day. Even if it really was just to keep talking about chemistry and school, John didn't mind one bit. He was a hopeful young man, but he wasn't naive. He knew in his head nothing would ever happen, not that Sherlock would even ever be interested, and yet... and yet he just couldn't help but grin as he nodded, and straightened up. "Right. Yeah," he said as other students finally started to filter into Sherlock's class. He grabbed his bag, unable to wipe that smile off his face as he turned back to Sherlock. "Thanks again, Mr Holmes. I'll come find you later. And definitely have another coffee," he chuckled lightly, before dipping out the door and hurrying off to English, grinning and pink-cheeked the whole way.

You: Sherlock let out an exhale as John left the room, he ran his hand through his curls and tried to focus on getting his lesson plan together and actually-teaching something but he found himself distracted all day. He found himself comparing every student to John. John would of known that answer, John would understand what he was saying. John wouldn't be on his phone while he was teaching. By the time it was lunch Sherlock was sure he was going mad. Yet even still he found himself watching the door, expecting-well hoping that John would come looking for him.

Stranger: ((Brb!))

You: (no prob!)

Stranger: It was incredibly difficult paying attention in his first two classes of the day. They seemed to drag by, as his much less interesting teachers drawled on without much enthusiasm at all, obviously going over content they'd taught time and time again and had gotten sick of. Sherlock would never be this boring. But God, he really couldn't get too hung up on the man just yet... but then lunch rolled round and his rugby mates said something about kicking the ball around on the field for a while and John said he'd catch up with them shortly, he just needed to run something by one of his teachers. Which was mostly true, anyway, as he quickly finished his lunch and headed back to Sherlock's classroom, popping his head in the doorway. And there he was, looking his way, almost expectant. John laughed, grinning. "Hey. You look like you're waiting for someone," he teased, stepping inside.

You: Sherlock hated that he lit up when John did come through the door. He adored John's smile, it just seemed to light up the whole room. And the smile was just for him. Mr. Holmes couldn't help a shrug, "I had a feeling I would be seeing you during lunch." he admitted. He gave John a raised eyebrow, wondering what excuse he had come up with to be spending his lunch with a teacher instead of friends.

Stranger: There was no mistaking the sudden rush of life and light in Mr Holmes' eyes, then. And John tried really hard not to credit himself for it because that would just be daft, of course he didn't mean that much to his teacher, and yet. And yet, he loved the idea that Sherlock had known damn well he would pop by and had been waiting patiently. John chuckled again and closed the door behind him, blocking out the mindless chatter of other students in the corridor. "Just wanted to make sure you're still awake. And besides, I've got you for next period. Maybe I wanted a head start," he shrugged with a smirk, wandering forward. "Have you had lunch already?"

You: Mr. Holmes watched John very closely, when the blonde shut the door he had a little wave of panic but didn't say anything. John's tone and posture signaled he was getting braver, more comfortable around the older man. Sherlock swallowed at the thought of that, having mixed feelings about that realization. He nodded, "I'm not tired in the least." he answered, which was not a lie. John had been filling his mind all morning, it was becoming bit of a distraction. Sherlock shook his head when John asked if he had eaten, "No, I usually leave for lunch. Not too fond of the excuse for food they serve you poor students." Sherlock stood, needing to stretch his legs, "What's got you so eager for class?" he asked.

Stranger: Oh. Oh, there was the barest hint of trepidation in Sherlock then, a faint hesitation that gave John pause. He didn't want to make the man uncomfortable, not at all. Was he coming on a bit strong, now? Had he gotten the wrong idea? Was he letting Sherlock's friendliness get to his head? John tried not to over-analyse it too hard, but quietly tried to rein himself in a little, giving a small smile. "Fair enough, honestly. I usually bring something from home. It's generally better than the cafeteria stuff," he agreed, setting his bag down

Stranger: ((Oops wasn't done, sorry!))

Stranger: bag down. He floundered to come up with an excuse for wanting to see the teacher, and really this was just going to end up embarrassing if he wasn't careful, but he gave another shrug. "I just didn't fancy listening to Thomas go on about the birds he's been sleeping with, and you know, getting one hundred percent on my homework has sure inspired me to keep learning."

You: Sherlock rose an eyebrow, he couldn't help but smirk to himself. John was a quick thinker, but he had to know he'd see through the lie. Come on John, you're smarter than this. "Ah.." he hummed, "Isn't that what boys your age are supposed to be doing? Your hormones are running wild at this age." he reminded, sort of leading John to the idea that this crush was just hormones, nothing more. "And I assure you Thomas has not slept with any women. No one who brags that much is telling the truth." he joked

Stranger: Oh yes, the implication that John's affection could be put down to nothing but hormones didn't go amiss. But that meant Sherlock knew. He had to know, and yet... and yet, wasn't he kind of feeding into it? Even when if he was trying to suggest this was just a hormonal crush? John's heart fluttered and he tried not to think too hard about it, tried to fight the heat in his face at the concrete realisation that Mr Holmes knew damn well he was smitten with him. But that was fine. It didn't matter. He enjoyed his company regardless. "Well," John shrugged again, tucking his hands in his pockets. "Maybe you're rigjt

Stranger: right. Considering you can tell what students are sleeping with who based on the turn of their collars," he teased lightly. "I'm not innocent, I'll admit. But it's pretty overrated. Fooling around."

You: Sherlock rose an eyebrow by John's statement, this conversation was definitely not an appropriate one to be having with his student, but really they had cross appropriate a while ago. "Oh? " he questioned, "Are you implying you're immune to the body's own primal urges?" he asked-using that I know you're lying tone of his. "Asexuality is certainly valid-don't get me wrong, but I don't think you're asexual John.."

Stranger: "Oh no, no - I didn't mean to imply that," John quickly tried to correct with a shake of his head and a rush of red to the tips of his ears. Oh no, there was no trying to convince /anyone/ he wasn't interested in sex full stop, let alone Sherlock Holmes. "I mean, you know, the shitty teenage thing. Of dating people for a couple of months before moving on to the next crush

Stranger: crush. Or hooking up with whoever and bragging about it the next day. Just... I don't know. It all seems a bit daft." He shrugged, running his fingers through his hair anxiously again

Stranger: again.*

Stranger: ((I dont know why my thumb is suddenly so attracted to the send button I'm sorry haha))

You: (Haha no problems)

You: Sherlock hummed in thought, "I hate to break it to you John but that daft behavior is around way past high school." he joked, there it was again. John was very mature and just...thought differently than anyone else his age. "I'd have to agree with you then- I suppose. " he shrugged. "It's a shame..you are very popular with the girls in the class. "

Stranger: Was he, just? The pink in John's cheeks darkened slightly and he laughed, this time running his hand through his hair slowly, a little more deliberately. "What can I say? I'm quite the catch," he teased, waggling his brows. And then he laughed it off, perching himself on the nearest desk. "I'd rather something a little more meaningful, I guess. Wait for something I'm sure of. Some/one/ I'm sure of." As if that wasn't pointed at all. But the message was clear - he wasn't going to rush into anything, regardless of opportunity. "What about you, sir?" He asked daringly, tilting his head.

You: Sherlock caught the pointed message, he ignored it. Every teenager thought they were sure of everything at that age. He frowned and shook his head,"What about me?" he asked, unsure what John was asking. Was this his way of asking if he was single?

Stranger: John put his hands back in his pockets and looked over at Sherlock carefully, wondering. It was definitely crossing a line to pry like this. Into his love life, of all things. It wasn't his businss

Stranger: business. He had no reason to ask. Even to make conversation, it was probably a bit far. And yet... "Do you have anyone? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?" John asked, curious.

Stranger: ((Brb for a while, I'll try keep the connection up but I'll be a few minutes!))

You: Sherlock shook his head, "No." he answered simply, not going into any further detail than that. "I'm- for all purposes solely focused on my work." he answered. That seemed like the most appropriate answer he could give his student. Sherlock had been with people in the past but-nothing serious.

You: (do you want to switch over to email?)

Stranger: ((Yeah that works!))

You: (i can send the log over!)

You have disconnected.

#johnlock #teacherlock #omegle rp #johnlock rp

[emeraldtawny]

Drug Dealer!AU Lancelot & Edgar: A Dangerous Game

More AU shenanigans. If you haven’t seen the setup to this AU, I suggest reading it here otherwise this fic will make very little sense to you. Enjoy~ ^w^

An oddly quiet night for the usually bustling Cradle nightlife. The sky’s precipitation wards off the majority of the partying crowd, leaving only a few stragglers desperate for that ecstasy. Though what kind of ecstasy in particular...let’s just say that’s a dangerous question to ask. 

The distant pumping music from Cat’s Cradle stretches out even into the slums of the back alleyways, the rain adding to the dreariness and desolate air surrounding the mostly abandoned streets. A man who looks completely out of place amidst it all walks with mild haste, the hood of his trenchcoat shielding his face from the rain and his leather shoes rippling the puddles they step into. He knows he’ll be fine as long as he remains silent; so long as he can utilise the foreign chemicals mingling in his bloodstream.

“Are you sure he went this way?”

“No doubt about it. That rich bastard wouldn’t cut through the alley. He’d probably ruin his designer shoes and sulk to the reporters about it.”

His lips purse into a fine line, his blue eyes narrowing in a similar way. Keeping his head down, he slows to a stop and leans back against the cold stone wall beside him, the lack of shelter fazing him none against the falling rain.

“Let’s check back around the clubs. He’s probably trying to be a snake and slip by unnoticed.”

“Hold up. Let’s check the community hall first to be sure.”

(Ah, good. They’re at least a street away from me.)

Confident he’s in the clear and breathing a short sigh, he pushes himself from the wall and begins to walk back out to the main streets.

“They certainly were persistent, weren’t they?”

He stiffens and stops dead in his tracks at the voice; a voice far too light and happy to be real. He turns toward its source, his eyes narrowing further at the man who somehow managed to sneak up behind him. His smile is as fabricated as the cheery tone his bell-like voice rings out, only further furrowing Lancelot’s brows.

“How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to understand your predicament. And I must say, what a handy predicament it is for me.”

His smile only brightens at Lancelot’s face twisting in contempt.

“Now now, Lancelot. We can’t let the Beautiful Beast sully his good looks. It seems to be the only thing you have left. Well, that and your “side-business”.”

His voice clearly insinuates the air quotes, making Lancelot’s eyebrow twitch. With no delay and a simple tilt of his head as his insistence to follow, the man turns back down the alley the way he supposedly came. Lancelot’s sigh is drowned out by the continually pattering rain before swiftly catching up to the shorter man.

“Your namesake is awfully misleading, Agent Bright. You look more used to the shadows than I do.”

That earns him an amused chuckle, though Lancelot can sense the edge behind it and how close it was to striking a nerve.

“I’m not on business tonight so just Edgar is fine, if you will.”

Edgar doesn’t flinch at Lancelot’s pointed comment, and the latter remains stoic at his lack of response.

The two men emerge from the alleys into one of the side streets, the streetlights fighting against the haze that the rain clouds the air with to illuminate the night. Seemingly unfazed by the rain despite having no umbrella or hood, Edgar crosses the street but pauses midway to turn back to Lancelot. With the disgruntled expression, Lancelot follows behind, unsure of where exactly this night is about to go.

…

The echoing of the rain still rings in Lancelot’s ears despite now being under shelter, its downpour turning tumultuous as soon as he stepped into the building Edgar led him to. A stroke of luck, or a perfect plan to keep him locked in a cage with a two-faced demon, he thinks to himself. Said demon removes his bomber jacket and gives it a single firm shake before making use of the empty coat stand at the entrance.

“I don’t plan on taking too much of your time, so long as you give me the answers I need,” He speaks while combing his fingers through his wet bangs to push them off his face, “As corrupt as you are, you still value agreements and abide by them. Just making sure that still rings true.”

Lancelot has lost track of the number of times he has sighed out his displeasure tonight. Following Edgar’s lead, he removes his jacket and occupies an empty hook, all the while taking the time to scan the surroundings. A local bar, this particular one near-empty aside from the owner behind the counter. Lancelot’s thoughts are disrupted as a new sound other than the rain enters the fray to amplify his oncoming headache.

He walks to where Edgar is setting up the billiard balls on the used yet sturdy pool table, his entire being disenthused. The negativity from him is palpable, enough to make Edgar chuckle, his jade eyes narrowing in delight.

“I’m sure you know the rules?” He addresses Lancelot, tucking away the equipment and leaving the perfect triangular arrangement of billiards.

He frowns. “Yes, but I thought you came here to talk.”

“Patience, Lancelot.” Edgar grabs one of the nearby pool cues and tosses it to his opponent who catches it with ease, “There is a method to my madness.”

Left with little options and sighing for the umpteenth time, Lancelot gets into position to break the billiards and begin the game. 

For the longest time, no words are uttered between the two men, only the clacking of the balls colliding with one other and them rolling across the green velvet fabric filling the white noise the rain outside does not fill. Both were on an equal footing from the beginning, each of them sinking at least one ball per turn. Now, with only two balls left to each man, does Edgar decide to pipe up.

“I’m assuming you’re upholding your end of the deal?” He speaks casually, but his eyes are focused as he arches his back over the table to get a clear shot.

Lancelot waits patiently until after Edgar has taken his shot - a clean sink into the waiting pocket - before speaking.

“Of course. No one aside from me and anyone you may have told knows you’re a dirty cop. And even without the agreement, you gave me a good reason to not tell anyone.”

Edgar’s smile speaks eloquently of his satisfaction and subtle smugness. “Indeed. What impeccable deduction on my part.”

His next shot has the white ball clipping his ball at just the wrong angle and it hugs the wall without falling into its rightful place. Lancelot moves around the table to gauge his next shot, but the looming feeling of Edgar’s eyes on him pulls his focus back to him.

“I’ve told you that I haven’t spoken a word about you to anyone. You doubt me?”

A knowing smile and an amused glimmer in Edgar’s eyes irks Lancelot at its sight, “Not at all. I’m just curious at something.”

“That’s a dangerous habit to have in this city...” Lancelot mutters, slipping the top of the cue to rest on his knuckle as he gets into position.

The cue hits the white ball dead centre and it bounces with mathematical precision off the walls towards its target. Sadly, it too falls victim to an off-angle collision and the ball rolls aimlessly into the side wall just short of the pocket. Lancelot’s lips purse in annoyance whilst Edgar’s quirk up.

“I’m curious-” He sidles up next to Lancelot, who realises the white ball is in a perfect position for Edgar’s next shot, “-as to what you have planned with your little endeavour of a side-business.”

Lancelot can only watch as Edgar easily sinks the linear shot given to him. All that remains is the black eight ball sitting expertly untouched since its initial break from the beginning of the game. Moving around the table with quiet confidence, the smile plastered on his face doesn’t reach his eyes as he meets Lancelot’s from across the table.

“You’re aware of the rules concerning this final ball, correct?”

Lancelot’s eyebrows narrow at the clearly leading question, but is too tired of his games at this point to argue against him.

“Yes. If you sink the eight ball before sinking the rest of your balls, you automatically lose the game.”

“Correct.” 

Edgar’s tone remains level, yet the air of seriousness radiating from him has Lancelot studying him more intently than before.

“You lose if you sink the eight ball before the other balls have been sunk. Meaning, you’re punished for trying to finish the game before you’ve got everything else in line.”

Crystal blue eyes turn cold as ice as they glare at Edgar, the discontentment of what he’s insinuating clear on Lancelot’s face. It fazes Edgar none, however, and the quick succession of taps as the balls of contrasting colours collide echoes out, the eight ball rolling slowly - forebodingly - into the corner pocket. Lancelot’s eyes remain on where the eight ball fell, almost as if his gaze could burn through the table to bring it back. The sound of Edgar setting his pool cue back onto the rack pulls his eyes back to him.

“Lancelot, whatever you have planned in that mind of yours, I can already tell you that cutting corners will do you no good. Don’t go trying to finish the game too quickly now.”

Without another word, Edgar breezes past Lancelot and heads for the door, a polite smile gracing his lips before he grabs his jacket and exits the bar, the rain’s sounds crescendoing in that split second the door was open. Alone with his thoughts once again, Lancelot glances at the pool table, his billiard balls the only ones left.

(That’s implying I have time to play by the rules; a luxury I don’t have. Besides, rules were meant to be broken.)

The heels of Lancelot’s shoes click softly under the rain’s accompaniment as he too grabs his jacket and takes his leave, the billiard balls on the table left unplayed and as a sign for Lancelot to not be left defeated in this much bigger game.

#ikerev #ikerev fanfic #drug dealer AU #lancelot kingsley #edgar bright #what's lance's big plan for this whole thing? #how on earth does edgar know vaguely of what he's planning? #more at 11 #;333333

[katastroficwriter]

oyés if you’re still taking requests for the holidays howsabout just,,, kiibo learning about holiday traditions and customs from ouma??? also a side of forehead kisses™ because those,, make me Y E L L

All I’m saying is, you totally don’t deserve this update Monica. Geez. You better upload Tuning In’s second chapter or I won’t update KYKM

Kiibo and Ouma had accidentally spent the whole afternoon playing with the children at the orphanage, much to the caretakers and children’s delight. However, even fun and games must come to an end. They had to return to Hope’s Peak before it gets too dark after all. Ouma stopped walking as soon as they entered the dormitory area.

“It seems we got caught in a bind.”

“Huh?” Kiibo paused in his tracks and looked at his companion in confusion. “I don’t understand–”

Ouma sighed, shaking his head before pointing upwards. “Look up, Kiiboy.”

“Oh. A mistletoe,” Kiibo tilted his head. “I don’t see the issue, Ouma-kun.”

“God, how sheltered do you have to be to not even know what’s the deal with mistletoes?” the supreme leader clicked his tongue.

Kiibo frowned, “I do know about the tradition of kissing underneath one! But what I don’t understand is the need to comply. No one’s going to strong-arm us into performing such intimacies–especially if there’s no one around to do so.”

“Oh, you definitely don’t understand how serious this situation is right now, Kiiboy. It’s not the people who you should be worried about, but the mistletoe itself,” Ouma looked up at the greenery hanging above them before shifting his attention back to his mechanical companion.

“Why is that?”

“Because we just got ourselves cursed right now is why,” Kiibo had to blink a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating when he saw the supreme leader’s hair turn white and his skin pitch black for a split second. It turns out he really was just seeing things when he saw Ouma in his usual color palette.

The android’s brows furrowed upon processing the supreme leader’s words. “Cursed?”

“Mhm! While it’s true that we don’t have to kiss under it, that only applies on regular days. Things are different if you got caught underneath it on Christmas Day–that’s when the curse takes effect.” Ouma raised his index finger, wagging it a little as he spoke. “Refusing to kiss while the curse is in effect would give us bad luck enough to last us a lifetime. And for a robot like you? You won’t like that at all since you’re practically immortal as long as you play your cards right.”

“Guhhh…That certainly sounds troubling…” Kiibo crossed his arms as he thought. “Well? How do we lift this curse?”

“With a whole lot of kissing, obviously,” the supreme leader nodded his head in the direction of the mistletoe. “See those white berries? Those are what gives the curse power. After every kiss, we can pluck one out. All we have to do is kiss until all the berries are gone–the mistletoe loses its power then.”

Kiibo eyed the shrub, his cheeks took on the color of the red poinsettias he found displayed on the dining hall earlier this morning upon spotting that there were in fact far too many berries than he had expected to see. “Do we really need to get rid of all of them?” he looked at his companion with hope in his eyes.

“Yes. Aaaaaaaall of them!”

And Ouma was quick to plunge the android into despair.

Kiibo grabbed at his head, confused, unsure, nervous at the idea of kissing his classmate multiple times just to undo a curse that may or may not be fabricated by the latter just to tease him.

Ouma huffed out a laugh, “You’re worrying too much, Kiiboy. We don’t have to kiss on the lips for every single berry, you know! That would be boring. A kiss anywhere will suffice.”

“R-really?” Kiibo nervously pressed his fingers together.

“Yeah! Besides, I have no interest in sucking face with someone who has gasoline breath–”

“It seems not even Christmas can sway you from your robophobia…” Kiibo mumbled under his breath.

“Of course not!” snorted Ouma. “Anyway, we better take this mistletoe down and undo the curse somewhere the others won’t see us.”

The android saw the logic in that and nodded his acquiescence. “I’ll go fetch a ladder from the warehouse–”

“No need to bother with that,” the raven-haired Ultimate waved him off as he began climbing up the stairs in the dormitory.

“How else would we be able to take the mistletoe down?” Kiibo quirked a brow, freezing upon realizing something. “…Y-you’re not going to ask me to fly, are you? I’ve told you before that I do not have such function!”

“Don’t be silly, I already know how useless you can be,” Ouma halted in his steps as soon as he was on the second floor, ignoring the android’s noise of protest. “All we need is some faith, trust, and a really cool slingshot!” He grinned as he brandished a slingshot out of his pocket.

“Did you have that in your pocket this whole time?” Kiibo huffed.

“Nah, the kids gave it to me as a present,” Ouma smiled, tugging on the rubber band to test its quality. “It’s a really good one too.”

“Are you seriously planning to use a slingshot to shoot it down?” Kiibo directed his attention to the mistletoe above him.

Ouma let out an offended gasp. “You wound me! I’ll have you know that I have a track record of breaking windows with the precision of a sniper using slingshots!”

“Please don’t break windows intentionally using the gift the children gave you…” mumbled the android.

The raven-haired teen responded by sticking out his tongue before taking his aim. “Anyway, what I mean is I’m a good shot. All you have to do is stand there and catch the thing. Surely even you can do something as simple as that.”

Kiibo let out a sigh before nodding, “Alright. I’ll be sure to catch it.”

“You better!” Ouma huffed before holding his breath to keep his aim steady and true. Once he was ready, he let go of the marble and watched it collide with the mistletoe–leading to its literal downfall, with utter satisfaction. He redirected his attention towards his companion after hearing him wince–probably from the marble falling on his head as he struggled to catch the plant.

Kiibo rubbed his head before picking up the marble to prevent any unfortunate falls. “…That was impressive.”

“Why, thank you!” Ouma proudly did a curtsy with his uniform top. “Now get up here, we got some kissing to do!”

“P-please don’t phrase it that way,” Kiibo’s cheeks heated up as he was reminded of their true task.

“Huuuh? How else do you want me to phrase it? That’s as honest as I’ll ever allow myself to be,” Ouma slipped the slingshot back inside his pocket before sauntering his way towards the robot’s room, giving the door two knocks before flashing an expectant look at the android.

He was already used to the supreme leader’s utter disapproval of having anyone enter his room. They first assumed that Ouma was using it to store illegal goods, but after constantly being placed under the mercy of the shorter Ultimate, Kiibo deduced that he was just ashamed to let everyone enter such a cluttered room. Although Ouma still persists on telling everyone that their prior assumption was the truth.

“Now we need some place to hang this above us, but low enough for us to reach he berries,” Ouma hummed.

“Can’t we just hold it above our heads?” Kiibo murmured. “And before you complain about tiring your arms, the same does not apply to me. I can hold it above us without getting tired.”

“Oh? What’s this? Finally coming to your robo-senses?” Ouma’s eyes sparkled, bouncing on his place on Kiibo’s mostly unused bed. “Kiiboy’s finally embracing his robo-self! I’m so happy!”

“Stop unnecessarily prefixing words with ‘robo,’ also, this is the only option that fit your description,” huffed Kiibo.

“Well, as long as I don’t have to do anything else then it’s fine by me,” Ouma grinned, patting the free space beside him. “Hurry so we can get this over with!”

Kiibo found himself gulping nervously, despite not needing to do such action due to his robotic nature. “Perhaps we should count the berries first so we can estimate how many kisses we need.”

“Mm? I guess that’s not a bad idea. You do it, I believe in your bean-counting skills!” the supreme leader leaned back on his arms, looking at the android with interest. “Just don’t run out of battery power as soon as you finish.”

“Enough with your mocking,” frowned the robot, slightly moving away from his companion to count the snow-white berries. “…Nineteen.”

Ouma clicked his tongue. “So only one of us gets to have an extra kiss in, huh.”

“You sound awfully disappointed for someone determined to lift the curse,” Kiibo narrowed his eyes at the supreme leader. He wasn’t really too sure if Ouma’s claims were true. He never really wondered about the Christmas tradition back then considering his father never really hung up mistletoes or pretend to be Santa for him since the professor was just a simple and honest man. He should consult Shinguuji about this supposed curse as soon as they finish this task.

“Non, non, it’s not that I wanted this at all! But even if it’s a cruddy situation, you might as well make the most of it, riiiight?” Ouma playfully tilted his head to the side. “Anyway, let’s settle who does the smooching first with rock, paper, scissors.”

Kiibo blinked, eyeing the other Ultimate’s closed fist before lifting his own. “Fair enough.”

“Rock! Paper! Scissors!”

“Wha–No way! I actually lost?!” Ouma’s eyes widened in shock. He threw out paper while Kiibo threw out scissors. “Aww man this sucks. Why do you get to have an extra kiss…?”

“You really sound disappointed about this,” Kiibo eyed the other in suspicion. ‘For a moment, it looked like he was going to throw out rock… What is he doing? Sabotaging himself like this…’

“I already told you, you have gasoline breath!” Ouma frowned, aggressively wagging a finger at the android. “If I could skip out on one extra kiss from you then I would.”

Kiibo heaved out a heavy sigh.

“Ouma-kun, mind clarifying something for me?”

“Mm? What is it?”

Aquamarine lenses met deep amethyst orbs.

“Does it really have to be me? Is it perhaps possible to have a third person undo the curse for us?”

Ouma tilted his head to the side. “What made you ask that question?”

The android straightened his posture, clasping his hands above his lap. “…So far you’ve done nothing but spew robophobic remarks my way; not to mention, you have repeatedly expressed your reluctance to do this with me. I was merely wondering if it were possible to have an uninterested person undo the curse instead so you’d have someone you actually prefer kiss you instead.”

He could feel the raven-haired Ultimate scrutinize him with a heavy gaze.

“…Unfortunately, it has to be you,” Ouma smiled.

…He’s smiling? What’s with that?

Kiibo looked at his lap, “I see. Unfortunately, huh. I understand.”

“Aww, don’t be sad, Kiiboy~!” Ouma grabbed the android by his shoulders and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “You can use this chance to do something useful for both of us. That should be rewarding enough. Kisses from me aren’t cheap either, you know!”

“O-Ouma-kun, y-you–!” Kiibo’s face was flushed red.

“Mm? Ohhh. Whoopsie~” the supreme leader leaned back. “That one was invalid, the mistletoe wasn’t above us. We wasted a kiss, darn!”

Despite how flustered he was at that moment, Kiibo found himself narrowing his eyes at the other teen. ‘That was definitely on purpose! …On…purpose? Hold on…’

“Earth to Kiibo!” Ouma poked the android on his forehead. “Raise the mistletoe next time, we’re supposed to get rid of the curse after all.”

Kiibo pursed his lips before nodding. ‘If he’s going to act like this, then two can play at this game.’

The android slowly raised the shrub above him, “Alright. Come closer, please.”

“Aye, aye~” The supreme leader scooched closer to the albino, regarding the latter with an expectant look as soon as he was close enough. “Well?”

Kiibo raised his left hand and cupped the other teen’s cheek, brushing away the hair framing his face. His face felt really soft to the touch, and it was warmer than he had expected. Although Ouma was wearing an empty smile, Kiibo could feel him tense under his touch. He wasn’t the only one nervous about this situation–that’s a relief. “Excuse me–”

“Just go for it, dummy!”

Replicating what the supreme leader had done for him earlier, he pressed a chaste kiss on Ouma’s left cheek. He dropped the hand that was cupping his classmate’s face as he pulled away. One.

“Where do we place the berries? From what I know, mistletoe berries are rather poisonous, correct?”

“…Yeah,” Ouma looked around the room for anything they can use. “You could use the trash bin I guess, it looks empty. You can throw the whole thing in it once we’re through, actually.”

“Okay,” Kiibo plucked a berry from the plant and walked towards the trash bin. He carried the trash bin with his free hand and placed it next to his bed. “Give me a moment, I’ll go wash my hands.”

Ouma simply waved him away, a bored expression taking over his face. Once the android disappeared into his bathroom, the supreme leader kicked his shoes off before shifting into a more comfortable position on the bed and hugged his knees to his chest. He closed his eyes, recounting how the robot’s hand held his face so gently despite his build of steel. Nineteen kisses just for him. This is the Christmas present he’s prepared for himself. Regardless of whether the curse was true or false, it shouldn’t reduce the value of the kisses at all.

He flinched a little when he felt the very hands he’s been thinking of gently shake him by his shoulder. The soft voice he’s learned to love in secret was so, so, very close. “Ouma-kun? Are you feeling ill?”

Ouma lifted his head, making a show of rubbing his eyes as he let out an overly dramatized yawn. “Man, you took forever in there. What were you doing? Were you having fun with yourself just after one kiss?”

“Keep your vulgar thoughts to yourself, please.” Kiibo let out a huff as he returned to his place on the bed. “I was making sure I washed my hands thoroughly. I didn��t want you to get sick simply because I decided against washing my hands.”

“How thoughtful of you~ But anyway, it’s back to curse breaking for us,” Ouma flashed the android a mischievous smile as he passed the mistletoe to the latter. “My turn, of course.”

Kiibo lifted a brow when Ouma had grabbed a hold of his free hand, aquamarine lenses widened as soon as he realized what the supreme leader intended to do.

“Mmm-mm! It’s all nice and clean, just like you said,” the shorter teen nodded with approval. He then raised Kiibo’s hand to his lips, making sure to maintain eye contact as he pressed a kiss on the robot’s hand. Two.

It was satisfying to watch the robot trying but ultimately failing to keep his feelings hidden. He’s such an open book to him–which is precisely why Ouma felt safe. Safe to slowly but surely bare his more vulnerable self to the android. Ouma reached upwards to pluck a berry and dropped it into the trash bin. “Your turn.”

Kiibo blinked a couple of times before the words registered in his mind. “A-ah, yes, of course.” His face was still a little red from the kiss earlier. Kind of odd since it was just a hand kiss.

The android simply kissed him on his other cheek. Three.

And so Ouma retaliated with an equally boring kiss on his fingers. Four.

Ouma’s hand. Five.

Kiibo’s cheek. Six.

Ouma’s fingers. Seven.

The other cheek. Eight.

Ouma was starting to get bored of the exchange. Even if every kiss from the android still made his heart flutter, the fact that it was starting to resemble a Kissing Bingo made it a little…. He froze in place when he felt surprisingly warm lips linger on his forehead. Nine. Perfect. Because he felt like he was at cloud nine at the moment and by God, he’s not descending any time soon.

“Ouma-kun? It’s your turn.”

“I know already.”

As though to return the favor, Ouma mimicked the android’s kiss. Ten. They were making quick work of the mistletoe berries, and consequently, they were running out of places to kiss. Kiibo knew this too, and that’s why he’s become increasingly nervous as more and more berries got plucked out of the mistletoe. No one said they couldn’t kiss the same place twice, and yet it seemed like there existed an unspoken rule which said otherwise. Ouma tapped an ear with a knowing look, to which he was responded with a nervous look and eventually, a nod.

“E-excuse me…” Kiibo whispered as he invaded the supreme leader’s personal bubble for the umpteenth time that evening.

“Just get it over with.” Ouma rolled his eyes, pushing his hair behind an ear to give the android easier access.

Kiibo took a deep breath before going for the kiss. Eleven. He was astonished to find that Ouma’s ears had flushed red from the contact, and yet the supreme leader’s face remained blank.… Interesting.

“Hey, Kiiboy.”

“Yes?”

“Close your eyes for a moment, will you?” Ouma tilted his head.

Unable to discern his companion’s intentions, Kiibo silently complied. He tensed a little when he felt the other boy’s hands on his shoulders–to support himself most-likely. His eyelids twitched a little when he felt the other’s lips ghost against them. And there it was, the Twelfth kiss that sent tiny sparks through his entire circuitry. ‘What was that…?’

“Ah–!” Kiibo’s arms flailed around as he fell back against his bed. Using his elbows to prop himself up, he sent the other Ultimate an indignant glare. “W-what was that for?”

Ouma pressed a finger against his lips, “You looked like you were dreaming, so I decided to bring you back to the real world. Get up Kiiboy, we only have seven kisses left.”

“A-alright,” Kiibo returned to his previously upright position and hesitantly wrapped an arm over the supreme leader’s shoulder. He guided the latter’s head a little downwards so he could press a kiss on the crown of his head. Thirteen.

“Hoho, how daring of you. I guess I better step up my game then. No way I’m losing to a robot!” Ouma smirked once the deed was done.

“Lose? This isn’t a competi–” Before the android could even finish his sentence, the supreme leader had already slipped his trademark checker-patterned scarf off of his shoulders with one swift tug, revealing the creamy white expanse that is Ouma’s neck. The novelty of such a view had rendered him utterly speechless.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” Ouma regarded the albino with a smug grin as he discarded over his shoulder.

“…I don’t understand. It’s your turn, isn’t it?” Kiibo mumbled his query, eyes darting elsewhere. Somehow it felt wrong eyeing the supreme leader’s rarely exposed neck.

“I can’t exactly step up my game on my turn, you know? You don’t really have that many places for me to kiss,” the supreme leader pouted. “Now turn around for me.”

Kiibo complied without protest, considering it would mean he wouldn’t have to look at the supreme leader’s newly exposed collar, unintentional or not. He raised the mistletoe above them once more, tensing when he felt Ouma’s run his hands down his back before feeling the other teen’s chest pressed against him. Kiibo closed his eyes shut, hoping that the supreme leader wouldn’t take note of the emergency button located on his nape. ‘He’s…he’s too close!’

While the robot was busy panicking, Ouma smiled with amusement as he pressed his lips against the plating on the albino’s back, right where his spine would have been. Fourteen. Despite the robot’s reddening face, the plating on his back remained pleasantly cool to the touch. He gently pushed himself away from the android, taking note of his completely stiff posture.

‘Now…will he take the bait or will he swoop in for the kill?’ Ouma ran a thumb across his lips as he smiled to himself.

“…A-any kind of kiss would suffice, right?”

“Hm?”

Kiibo shifted in his seat a little before shyly looking over his shoulder–his collars were already covering his lower face. “As long as it’s a ‘kiss’ then it would suffice right? Anything goes?”

Ouma leaned back on his hands, “Yeah. A kiss is a kiss. Just don’t forget the mistletoe and we’re good.”

The android was now facing him completely, still flustered from the previous kiss. “A-alright.” He lifted the mistletoe above his head, silently beckoning the supreme leader towards him. What Ouma didn’t expect was to happen as soon as he got close was to have Kiibo lean downwards, closing his eyes ever so slowly.

‘W-wait–! Is he for real?!’ Ouma panicked–he wanted to move away, but he couldn’t seem to move a muscle. ‘H-he’s actually…going for it?’ He found his own eyes fluttering shut, already surrendering himself to the inevitable.

…Except the inevitable didn’t happen. By the time Ouma had opened his eyes, the albino had already pulled away. Fifteen. “What was that?”

Kiibo pressed his fingers together, “…It was a bunny kiss.”

‘No shit it was. There’s a huge difference between getting kissed on the lips and having someone rub their nose against yours,’ Ouma groused internally.

“A-anyway…it’s your turn again,” Kiibo shyly scratched his cheek as he spoke. “We only need four left.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know how to count, Kiiboy.” the supreme leader huffed, gesturing for the mistletoe. “Still, that was pretty childish of you–resorting to a bunny kiss of all things. That barely counted as a kiss!”

“Wha–you were the one who told me that a kiss was a kiss!” the android frowned, almost failing to notice the fact that the shorter male had already leaned down to kiss the symbol located on his left collar. Sixteen.

“Are you deaf? I said it barely counted as one! Meaning, it’s teetering between the lines of not being a kiss and actually qualifying as a kiss.” Ouma made a show of flicking out dirt from his nails. “You better come up with something more flashy for this turn to make up for–”

The supreme leader couldn’t even finish his sentence. As soon as he gathered his bearings, he realized that his back was flat against the bed with two metallic hands placed against his chest to keep him in place. “Ohhh?”

“…I don’t know what it is you want from me. I’ve done everything all according to your instructions, haven’t I?” Kiibo mumbled. “…And now you’re telling me I have to ‘make it up to you’ when I am positive that I did not violate any of your terms? Do none of my actions mean anything to you, Ouma-kun?”

Ouma’s eyes widened a little, taking in the android’s shaking voice, his quivering lips and his watering lenses. ‘…That’s not it at all…you got it all wrong, you stupid robot…’

“Never mind. You don’t have to answer that.” Kiibo adjusted his position above the supreme leader so as not to crush the latter. “…Let’s just finish this so we can be rid of each other.”

Cool metal fingers slowly made its way up the supreme leader’s jawline, guiding the latter’s head to the side to expose more of his neck. Instead of the flustered demeanor which he had been nursing earlier, Kiibo’s face was now tinged with melancholia as he held up the mistletoe with his free hand. Ouma tensed as their bodies slowly came into close contact, with Kiibo’s lips only a hair’s breadth away from his neck. His oh so sensitive neck.

“K-Kiiboy–”

“…Is something the matter?”

Prompting the android to speak while he was practically right next to his ear was a big mistake. Kiibo’s gentle voice practically echoed directly inside his headspace and eventually burying itself deep into his psyche–rendering him speechless.

“…Since there’s nothing wrong, I shall resume.” Kiibo pressed his warm lips against the side of the other boy’s neck, sending figurative sparks straight down his jugular.

Ouma squeezed his eyes shut, willing his urge to push the android away to disappear. If this goes on for any longer, his heart would have burst out of his chest and all of the feelings he had intended to keep would leak out of the mangled organ. He can’t afford to show his hands too early, not when he’s still not sure of where they exactly stood in their odd relationship. Or…if he had a chance for that matter.

He found himself melting into the sheets as soon as the android pulled away from him, he gritted his teeth in a desperate attempt to silence his heart.

Kiibo still looked upset from their earlier conversation, but his cheeks are now dusted with light pink. “Well…?”

Ouma slightly lifted his head, still a little too weak to make his limbs function accordingly. “Eh. It was passable. I don’t have any complaints this time. Isn’t that great, Kiiboy~?”

“Don’t patronize me,” the android huffed as he tossed another berry in the trash bin. The seventeenth berry.

“How rude! Just when I finally decided to praise you a little,” Ouma clicked his tongue, shaking his head a little before moving to sit in a more upright position. “Anyway, two more left. Let’s do this.” He flung his arms over the android’s shoulders, standing on his knees to keep himself nice and steady.

“Alri–what are you doing–?”

“It’s my turn! I’m free to do what I want~” Ouma said in a sing-song manner, guiding the robot’s hand to hold the mistletoe over their heads. That unspoken rule. He’s going to break it. “Pay closer attention to me, okay?”

Somehow…the way the supreme leader’s eyes glistened in the modest lighting of his room sent chills down his spine. It wasn’t like his usual smiling poker face. His intentions remained a mystery, however his eyes carried emotion. An emotion he couldn’t name at this point in time.

Kiibo’s eyes widened at the sensation of the supreme leader’s lips against his forehead once more. His confusion only grew as the raven-haired Ultimate pulled back with such a pure smile.

“Two,” Ouma still didn’t release the robot from his hold, opting to lean right back in instead, ghosting his lips against the robot’s very own. “And with this final kiss…the curse shall be lifted.”

“Ou–”

Ouma’s lips–as Kiibo had come to discover, was chapped and a little rough against his own, most-likely from the cold. Regardless of the roughness, the kiss was somehow pleasantly slow and had already long since surpassed the realm of being chaste. What surprised him even more was the fact that he found himself wrapping his arms around the shorter Ultimate.

One. Two. Three. Four–

Their lips have met each other again and again, not noticing the fact that the mistletoe had already slipped out of the android’s grasp. By the time they had come to their senses, the sheets were already in disarray and the supreme leader was laying atop the other unabashedly.

“Whoopsie~ Those sure were a lot of invalid kisses, huh! You should have told me!” no matter how cheeky and unserious Ouma sounded, his flustered cheeks belied his words. “Anyway, since the curse is lifted, I’ll be on my way now~”

Ouma hastily put on his shoes disguised as efficiency before tossing the entire mistletoe in the trash bin. “I’ll be out of your hair now. Since you were so eager to get rid of me. Ta-ta~”

“O-Ouma-kun, wait–!”

BANG!

The door had already slam shut by the time he got out of the bed.

Kiibo released a defeated sigh as he slowly dropped to his feet, burying his awfully warm face into his pleasantly cool hands in the hopes of lowering his temperature to a more stable degree. This proved to be futile as he foolishly decided that reviewing his memories of the kiss would be a good idea in this kind of situation. It only served to make his face grow hotter, as the sensation of the kisses had imprinted inself in his thoughts not similar to his usual manner of remembering information.

“I…have a number of things to re-evaluate…” he mumbled to himself as he buried his head in his knees. “A number of…things.”

Bonus: “Yes, plucking the berries of the mistletoe after a kiss has in fact been practiced dated back in the 18th century, commonly practiced by British servants.” Shinguuji responded without breaking a sweat–truly he was deserving of his title.

“I see…” Kiibo nodded along. “Were there any curses involved?”

“Curses?” Shinguuji regarded the android with mild surprise. “While it’s been said that refusing a kiss under the mistletoe would bring forth misfortune, there were no records of curses based on the mistletoe.”

Kiibo combed a hand through his hair, already expecting such a result. “…Thank you, Shinguuji-kun.”

“You look red. Are you perhaps overheating?” the taller Ultimate tilted his head as he shut his book closed, offering the artificial human his undivided attention.

“I’m fine. I truly appreciate your concern and for allowing me to take up much of your time. I have some plans for the rest of the day, and I must be off now.” Kiibo raised placating hands as he slowly backed away from his classmate.

“Mmm…I see. Very well then.”

“See you later–!” Kiibo bowed before exiting the Ultimate Anthropologist’s Lab with a single objective in mind.

‘I need to find Ouma-kun…!’

#ndrv3 #kiibouma #kiibo #ouma kokichi #katastrofic writing #monica #submission #winter kiibouma