#I think I wrote a couple of these out
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I suddenly had a thought of GhostSoap being normal human beings and doing normal human being things and wanted to write some stuff for it.
1) Simon always forgets to replace the fuckin toilet paper and Johnny loses his mind over it every single time
2) Johnny has these quiet little snores that whistle out every time he breathes out and while it’s mildly annoying some nights Simon still finds it so endearing
3) Simon hogs the blankets, even in summer cause he’s just always cold, no matter what. Johnny tends to just snuggle in real close to Simon when he gets cold
4) Johnny is the cook of the house. He’s really good at it (his mother refused to let him leave home without knowing how to survive on his own) but he can’t bake. Simon’s the opposite where he can bake (his mum loved baking, taught him everything she knew) but can’t cook to save his life
5) Johnny’s always stealing Simon’s leftovers or hidden treats and Simon has threatened to stab him once or twice over it (it never stops Johnny from doing it again)
6) Simon totally found a stray cat and got the ‘you wanna keep him, you look after him’ talk and he has never been more devoted to looking after another living being after the whole thing with his family
7) Johnny’s got a million and one things in their bathroom all for the sake of looking after his hair and skin and what not and he definitely sits Simon down on the toilet seat every so often so he can do the same for him
8) Johnny seeks validation near constantly. Simon doesn’t know why but he always, always makes sure Johnny knows he’s appreciated and doing good and whatever else the man needs validation on
9) When Simon has night terrors the way to calm him down is to just let him cling to you. Don’t speak or anything just let him hold you and let him reassure himself that your alive and well. Sometimes he’ll be ready to talk about it in the morning, other times he’s content to let the memories go and just keep going
10) Johnny is the worst at taking out the trash. Since they live in a semi-old apartment complex they had to take their rubbish all the way downstairs when the bin in their place got full and Johnny fucking hates it
11) When one of them get put on leave and have to go back to the apartment by themselves they’ll play the other persons music and cook their favourite foods (or try at least) to try and fool themselves into thinking they’re not alone in their home
12) Simon totally has a stuffed toy that belonged to Joseph and while it sits on his shelf he was still terrified Johnny was going to say something bad about it or try and get rid of it (that’s happened once with an ex) but Johnny saw it, called it cute and then proceeded to look after it when Simon couldn’t
13) Johnny may not look it but he’s a bit of gardener. He’s got a windowsill full of herbs in the kitchen and their balcony has some random plants that he doesn’t actually know the name or origin of but he looks after them and has very specific instructions for Ghost to follow when he’s not around
14) Simon’s friends with the old guy that runs the convenience store down the street from their apartment and not because he tried to befriend the guy or anything, but because the guy thought Simon looked funny with his mask and decided he was going to favour him out of all of his customers
15) The neighbours tried hitting on Simon once and Johnny happened to open the door and heard them flirting with his boyfriend. He got so possessive that he made out with the bigger man against their door jamb for like 5 minutes until Simon pulled him inside. The news spread very quickly after that
16) The apartment complex have a betting pool going about what they do for a living because they hold such weird hours and will disappear for months at a time. None of them wanna ask the two though cause they’re all a little scared of the both of them
17) Simon’s a bookworm and if it weren’t for their tiny apartment he’d have his own, personal library filled to the brim with books
#fic prompt#ghost x soap#fuck off haters#i’m looking at you die hard cod players#johnny ‘soap’ mctavish#fic#prompt#call of duty#simon ‘ghost’ riley#ghost#ghostsoap#soapghost#soap x ghost#they’re in love your honour#the guys being normal human beings#multiple prompts#I think I wrote a couple of these out
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Peacock Au Part 1
Okay so Big Huge credit to @stealingyourbones for letting me do my own take on their amazing eldritch Danny idea!!!! This started out as me just doing a drawing but then I ended up with a whole DPxDC fic that I'll be posting the part two for at some point!!! Anyway, here's the vague designs:
And here's the part one of the fic under the cut!!! :D
(Edit: Part 2 is Here!!)
There’s a Lazarus Pit forming underneath Gotham. Normally, this would not concern John Constantine at all, because it’s Gotham, therefore Bat territory therefore not his problem, and honestly he has his own things to worry about. Unfortunately for him, however, the infamous Dark Knight has somehow gotten it into his head that he can do something about it and, Hell, he’d said it would be a ‘big favour’, which meant the man really must be desperate; had to have been in the first place, he supposed, to have even bothered with John in the first place.
Still, he’d almost kind of forgotten what a huge mess any kind of favour for Batman could be, and thus, he now holds possession of a book that is probably going to get him killed.
Whether the actual book itself wants to kill him is up for debate, but Constantine has read the contents of this particular Book of Summonings and nothing in here seems remotely safe. He’s absolutely going to be hiding this away somewhere deep in the archives of the archives of the Justice League watchtower with an incredibly pointed ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ on it once he’s done with this, but for now, it’s the only thing he’s got in the way of sorting out this Pit problem.
There’s an entity that exists, this book claims, that keeps the balance between realms. ‘Closes doors’, apparently, and the doors the pages depict certainly look like a Lazarus Pit. This is brilliant news, obviously, but the book doesn’t describe the entity itself at all beyond that; barely any of the other entries are as vague as this, and that plus some of the frankly bizarre sigils he’s having to draw to summon the damn thing are giving him no comfort. The only remotely comforting thing about it is that the ritual doesn’t require any blood- which either means the entity is benign, or it wants something more valuable than blood.
…Okay, maybe not that comforting, actually.
But, before he can consider that maybe this wasn’t his best idea and backing out would be for the best, the sigils flare with light, and Constantine squints to keep track of the way they activate, desperate for any indication of what he’s managed to summon with that stupid book.
His feet feel feathery against the ground, like they’re barely tethered by gravity and just waiting to float away, and perhaps the seeming lack of atmosphere is fitting with how dust like stars lift from the summoning circle, bringing with them intercepting layers of purple-blue-pink-white, galaxies and nebulae being peeled off the floor. It comes with a sound- something whistling, almost. Seeming hollow, between a shriek and a bell ringing, or maybe more musical than that. It seems to change every moment he tries to focus on it, as if it’s something his ears can’t really hear but his brain is desperate to process, painful to try.
And then, the entity begins to form.
Unnoticeably at first, a white glow drifts forming in the centre. It congeals as Constantine’s gaze finally fixates on it, layers forming like jellyfish trails, or flowers, or peacock feathers with runic circles at the tips, fading smaller and smaller as they reach the centre, and a thing akin to a body unfolds into view at the front, a centrepiece. A child’s image of a shadow in opalescence, a strange curving feature where a neck might be, and searing-green spots of varying sizes scattered along the space where cheeks and eyes could’ve been, fading up and down across the lower-half of the ‘face’ and into the ‘hair’. He barely understands what he’s looking at, but maybe that’s the point.
The sound of a thunderstorm rings across the room, and the curve of the neck unfolds, and it’s an eye, and the tips of a thousand twisted, cosmic peacock feathers become eyes as well, if they weren’t always. They move, wavering, either lashing or flickering from visibility.
“And what is this?” The voice is a kaleidoscope, echoing off and from every corner of the room, and when they speak, infinite eyes become infinite mouths, too many teeth barely contained by the edges of what seem vaguely like frostbitten lips. To have something even remotely human suddenly etch itself onto the entity is somehow worse than the parts he can’t comprehend. “Who are you, to have summoned me, and seem so afraid?”
Constantine wishes, maybe for the first time, that it hadn’t been an obligation to do this alone; he’s never wanted Batman or one of the Light members with him more than now. It’s a difficult thing, almost impossible, to shake off the speechlessness. It’s a wonder that it’s possible at all, with how the room seems to have been twisted into a vacuum. “I was told you could- you could help with the pits?”
“The pits. There are many pits.”
God, this is creepy. “The Lazarus pits to, uh, to be specific. There’s a huge one cropping up under Gotham that’s not supposed to be there, and the local- I mean, the locals are getting antsy about it. …I heard you can take care of them.”
“I can smell its blood between the gaps of atmosphere, encircling. You, whose soul is bound in so many directions, who may be pulled apart like meat in time- can you sense it? Does it draw you?” John doesn’t know how this- this thing knows that, but he’s scared asking will invoke some kind of consequence, and more and more he’s wondering why the Hell he decided to do Batman this favour. He feels exposed.
“Uh… no, I don’t think so. But can you fix it?”
“Yes.”
“…Will you fix it?”
The chill is getting to him. Goosebumps are running across his arms like a livewire, and he’s never doing anyone a favour ever again. The entity makes an approximation of a hum, his ears shriek with whale song and stars, and after a pause, everything switching up and down on itself, the peacock eyes form into huge, reaching hands. For a second, Constantine’s whole body freezes with terror, because he’s petrified the thing’s going to grab him, but then the arms tumble phasing into the ground, and the green spots on their ‘face’ flare with a supernova glow and they make another piercing noise, chiming or trilling.
A long moment later, the hands slowly return to the entity’s back, and fade into the peacock feathers or jellyfish bells or whatever they were before, blinking at him. “It is gone.”
“Uh… cheers?”
“It will not return, but this place shall see its dead for some time. Try not to look.”
This is maybe the worst day of Constantine’s life. “Can I- uh, yeah, great advice. ‘Appreciate it. But, can I ask just, y’know, what you are? Or not.”
“That is up to you.” They say, and though the eyes that appear briefly between sentences bely or reveal no expression, it feels scrutinising. “What is it that closes doors? Is it alive?”
He hates riddles. He hates riddles and he hates cosmic horrors and he hates eldritch entities and he hates Batman for getting him to agree to this horrible favour. He wants to go back to the House of Mystery and pass out for long enough that this whole thing becomes a dream. “Fair enough! Forget I asked- cheers for sorting out that pit, though. Uh, don’t suppose you’ll just let me go on my way or anything now.”
“I know of your Bat.”
Oh dear. Constantine’s stomach sinks like a shipwreck into the Mariana Trench, but the entity moves on like they’d never even said it. “I will recede, and find you in time, perhaps both. You will know when I am coming, and I will find my recompense.”
And just like that, their whole form shimmers into clouds and pearls and smoke and mirrors, and they fade back into the runes that summoned them like tap water down the drain. The galaxies they’d formulated within the confines of the room fold back in on themselves and turn to whispers and then nothing, but the feeling persists on his skin long after weight has settled back onto his bones. He hadn’t known a thing like that existed until now. He doesn’t know what it can do, doesn’t know how all-encompassing it truly is.
And he owes it a favour.
Crap.
#I'll be posting the part two at some point soon since it's already written out so prepare for that lmao!!#Warning that there might be some mistakes in here since I literally just wrote this and the second part a couple hours ago#This is a Little bit of a thing about my hc on the Ghost Monarchy and how it isn't Actually a monarchy#It's just that the 'king' keeps the actual physical balance of the GZ (ie natural portal stuff) & the title originally had a different name#But when Pariah Dark took the mantle he decided it made him the ruler of the GZ and that's why the Ancients took him down#But I'll talk more abt that if I ever get around to finishing that GZ culture/history/evolution post thing I had planned lmao!!!!#Either way I Love Eldritch Danny sm and writing this was so so fun!!!#Part two will be from Danny's perspective!!!#I might colour those drawings and stuff at some point but for now I like them as they are!!!#Also before I forget I Am still thinking about that pizza delivery guy pt. 2 I just got stuck a bit!!! It'll hopefully appear at some point#dp au#danny phantom au#dpxdc#john constantine#danny phantom fanart#dp fanart#danny phantom#Bongo's Aus!!!#Bongo's Writing!!!#Bongo's Art!!!#tw body horror#peacock au
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I feel like one thing we can take away from this kickstarter is that Cassandra Clare will never be done with the Shadowhunters universe. like literally all these new short stories come from the fact she took a six month "break" from writing shadowhunters lmao
#I do think she might move away from larger series announced years ahead of time#because I think the expectations she created for tlh was something she struggled with#like it was announced nearly a decade before it was published that's insane!! midnight heir came out in 2013 and chain of thorns in 2023!!#but I don't think we'll ever be free from her just randomly writing new books and releasing them#the eldest curses. secrets of blackthorn hall. seasons of shadowhunters.#all three short story collections#like I'm sure in a couple years there will be something new she wrote for funnies#although I imagine she'll write non shadowhunter stuff too (like sword catcher)#bella talks#the shadowhunter chronicles#tsc#cassandra clare
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~ Just say you’re sorry ~
THIS IS FOR THE AMAZING ANON THAT INSPIRED THIS FIC SO KUDOS TO THEM 💞✨💗💕
Also tagging my fellow moots who love this HC as much as I do:
@someone1348 @tickleebug @prettychillbrainfreeze @ghostlyshylee @itzystopkiddingmenowloco
Lee’s: Leo🐢💙 and Mikey🐢🧡
Ler’s: Raph🐢❤️ and Donnie🐢💜
Summary: Raph and Donnie have been getting pranked by they’re younger brothers all day. So like the good big brothers they are, they hatch a totally not devious plan to teach they’re younger sibs a lesson.
(A/N: AS ALWAYS- T*EST DNI YOU NASTY CREEPY WEIRDOS)
———————————————————————
“Stupid dumb-dumbs…stupid stupid dumb-dumbs…”
Raph turned around from where he was sitting on the living room couch to see his immediate younger brother- Donnie- pacing back and forth in the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee that spilled a little bit every now and again as he turned around in a pacing circle.
The young genius was wearing his dark purple sweatshirt with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, wearing his occasional purple mask and goggles. Raph was wearing his own mask as well, clashing with his grey/gray sweatshirt.
The snapper got up from the couch, putting his phone down and walking to his immediate younger brother. “Hey, bud…you okay?” Raph asked, putting a hand on Donnie’s shoulder as a way to show his comfort. The younger looked up at Raph and started chuckling, even though the eldest turtle was 99.9% sure nothing he just said was funny…
“What’s wrong..? What’s WRONG???” Donnie yelled, going close to Raph’s face so they’re snouts touched before stepping away from him. The softshell put his coffee mug on the counter, pacing back and forth again while his hands were behind his back.
“Oho, I’ll tell you what’s wrong. What’s wrong my dear older brother, is that those imbeciles that I apparently have to call my younger brothers have been pulling pranks on me left and right ALL DAY. I can’t get any work done without fearing for my life that another water balloon or paint cannon is going to hit me!” Donnie said, throwing his hands up to the air before putting them back down. The purple cladded sibling sighed, rubbing a hand down his face slowly as he tried to calm himself down.
Donnie was frustrated- very very (that’s two very’s) frustrated if you couldn’t tell. The genius wanted to have a productive day; a day where he got almost all of his work done and he had the rest of the evening to spend with his family and friends. Believe it or not, the softshell actaully enjoyed spending time with his family, even if he acts like he dreads every single second of it.
But sadly, the universe didn’t want the day to go the way Donnie had originally planned. The universe had to give him not 1 but 2 younger siblings that were annoying as FU- fudge. Annoying as fudge.
Anyway, the two gremlins have been placing boobytraps and pranks all over the lair, such as sparkle canons, water balloons, whoopie cushions- you name it! And at the end of every single prank there would be this…card that mysteriously came out of nowhere. It was orange and blue and had Mikey and Leo’s faces on it, saying “You just got pranked by the Portal Pals! (P.S. L + Bozo)”
Which was…cute. It was nice that the two were having fun and spending time with each other…but WHY did they’re fun have to torture Donnie in the process?
“You too, huh?” Raph chuckled, reaching into his sweatshirt pocket and taking out a couple of Leo and Mikey’s “You just got pranked!” cards. Donnie couldn’t help but chuckle along with Raph at the sight of the cards, going over to him and resting his head on his plastron, groaning. The snapper just laughed some more, wrapping his immediate younger brother in a hug as he patted his battleshell.
“They’re. so. annoying.” Donnie whined, rubbing his hands along his face as Raph sighed. “I mean, yeah. They’re our little brothers, little bro. It’s kind of they’re job to annoy the living hell out of us, y’know?” The eldest reasoned, patting Donnie’s shoulder as he huffed, his anger starting to slip away. “Yeah…I guess so…” the softshell mumbled, taking his head up from Raph’s plastron and smiling at him.
“But hey! Look on the bright side: that doesn’t mean we can’t get payback~!” Raph exclaimed, winking at Donnie who raised one of his sharpie drawn eyebrows, curiosity and mischievousness written all over his face. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” Donnie asked, grinning from ear to ear.
Raph grinned back, nodding his head in confirmation. The second-oldest turtle smiled a bit more (this time being a kind of evil smile) as he took out his phone from his pocket, going into they’re family GC. The younger started typing up something on his phone, beginning to walk to his lab.
“Walk and talk with me, Raphie. I’ve got a plan…”
🕺🏾🐢🍕Cool Kids GC 🍕🐢🕺🏾
Today at 2:34 pm
*🕺🏾👾Bootyyyshaker9000👾🕺🏾 is online*
Hello my fellow fam
*UrfaveChamp😘😘😘✨💙 is online*
*Mystic_Mike🎨🤩 is online*
Yoooo
Hey Don!
How are you 😁🥰?
Good good.
How’s the eyebrows working? Feelin pretty, bro?
Donnie groaned from Leo’s text, about to type “kys” in the GC to his younger twin before Raph cleared his throat, shaking his head in disapproval as they continued to walk. The softshell sighed, deleting the text before he was about to send it in the GC.
“There. Happy?” Donnie asked as the oldest nodded, walking into the lab and both sitting on the lab’s desk chairs. “Very.”
“Anyway, what’s he even talking about, Don?” Raph asked, confused. Donnie ran a hand down his face, clicking out of messages and showing Raph a picture he took earlier. It was a pic of Donnie’s eyebrows covered in sparkles, glitter and fake gemstones- and it looked completely awful. Let’s just say the eyebrows looked like a second graders art project.
Uh…no offense to any second grader of course…
“One of they’re sparkle canons got me…” Donnie mumbled. The softshell was so glad he was able to clean that monstrosity off- he would never be able to live that down without anyone making fun of him for it.
Raph cackled at the picture, putting a hand to his face as he did so. “Stop laughing...” Donnie glared, taking the phone back so Raph couldn’t see the photo anymore. And if the alligator snapping turtle knew any better, he could’ve sworn that he saw a pout on his immediate younger brother's face.
“It isn’t funny.” The pout caused Raph to giggle a bit more, booping the softshell’s snout as the younger playfully swatted his hand away. “It is a bit funny…” Raph giggled, smirking at Donnie. The second oldest just chuckled as he rolled his eyes, clicking out of his Photos app and right back to the GC.
They’re fine, actually. The sparkles really complimented my eyes.
See! Told you he would like it, Mikey!
A success in my book
Oh whatever 😒😒😒
✨Anywaysssss✨
What is it that u needed, Don?
R u okay?
Oh, yeah. I’m fine.
I just need you both to come to my lab.
I have to make a huge announcement to say to everyone.
It’s extremely important.
Raph’s already with me so I just need you two to come.
Oh!
Okay!
Oooh! Must be a pretty important if we’re coming to Dee’s lab…
Yes- it is important. I literally just said that.
See you in like- 15 seconds, Dee!
Wait! Raph’s w/ u right now?
Yes. Raph is with me as of right now.
Ask him for me how he likes his new room setup 😁✨
LMFAOAOAOAO
Raph grabbed Donnie’s phone out of his hands, his face red in embarrassment as he typed in the group chat. “What’s he talking about, man?” Donnie chuckled confused, not used to seeing his older brother so flustered.
After the snapper was done with…whatever he was typing, his face relaxed- seeming really calm and content now. Raph cleared his throat, handing the phone back to Donnie. “We don’t talk about it.”
KSYNDND
*KYS
THIS IS RAPH TYLINGNEN
*TYPING
KANSHSJAKSHS!!!
U KNOW ITS FUNNY BRO-BRO
I HATE YOU 2 SM LITERALLY DIE😡😡😖!!!
BAHAHAHAJSHSBDKDK
We love you tooooo Raphieee~!☺️☺️☺️😘😘💕💖💞💖💖✨✨
Donnie clicked out of the messaging app and glared at Raph. “How come I can’t type ‘kys’ in the group chat but you can!?” He asked, putting his phone on his desk and crossing his arms. “Eldest brother privileges, duh.” Raph said calmly, merely shrugging as Donnie rolled his eyes for probably the millionth time today.
.
.
.
“What’s with the random call to Dee’s lab? Are we experimenting on something?” Leo asked excitedly, looking around the lab to see if there was anything brand new or important to test on as him and Mikey walked in. “Yeah! What is it? I wanna know!” Mikey asked as well, grinning from ear to ear waiting for either of his older brothers to answer the question.
Leo was wearing his dark blue sweatshirt, with his blue mask. Mikey was also wearing his favorite orange sweatshirt, also wearing his mask.
Not answering any of the younger two's questions, Donnie tapped a few buttons on his wrist watch, closing the lab door behind them. The two quickly looked behind them at the door and then at each other, nervousness starting to broil up in they’re stomachs. “Don? Raph? You guys okay…?” Leo asked, his head tilting to the side in confusion as his twin and older brother just stood there staring at him and Mikey.
“So…you guys gonna keep staring at us, or are you gonna tell us why we’re here…?” Mikey said as he scratched his head in confusion.
“Glad you two are so curious to find out why I called you here.” Donnie smiled, him and Raph getting up from they’re chairs, looking at they’re younger brothers with a deadpanned face. There was another awkward silence with all of them just staring at each other.
The two youngest weren’t sure if they were called in Donnie’s lab for a legitimate reason or if this was some huge staring contest. Leo and Mikey exchanged worried glances, “Soooo…you gonna tell us or what?” Leo chuckled, crossing his arms trying to hide his nervousness at his twins vague answers.
“Well, you and Mikey have been pranking me and Don a lot.” Raph said stating the obvious, only for Leo and Mikey to chuckle. “Is this what this is about? Are we in trouble or something?” Mikey giggled, nudging Leo in the elbow causing the older to snicker.
“You two aren’t in trouble per say. We just want to join in on the fun too!” Donnie smiled…a bit too sweetly. Leo crossed his arms, squinting suspiciously at his older brothers. “Join in on the fun?” The slider repeated. “Oh, but of course! The fun I’m personally thinking of starts with an r and ends with ‘evenge’. Isn’t that right, Raph?” Donnie grinned as Raph nodded his head.
Mikey gulped, “Wehell…Ihi just remembered I have to goho feed my pehet rock…so, uh…if you’ll excuse me I’ll just be on my way…” Mikey giggly said, nervously walking backwards to the opening door to the lab. Mikey attempted to open the lab door again and again but it just wasn’t budging. He turned around, trying to turn the knob but it wasn’t moving an inch.
“The lab door is locked my dearest Angelo.” Donnie chuckled as he saw the youngest trying to pry the door open- an evil smile plastered on his face as he leaned against Raph’s side, crossing his arms.
Well shit.
“You get Mikey, I’ll get Leo.” Raph instructed, walking towards Leo as Donnie walked towards Mikey, both of the older siblings wiggling they’re fingers slightly with huge evil grins on they’re faces. The two youngest looked at each other completely petrified, stepping away from the door and splitting up, going deeper into Donnie’s lab but making sure to keep they’re eyes on they’re “attackers.”
“Wahait! W-We cahan talk abohout thihis!” Leo giggled, putting his hands up as a way to try and stop Raph from…whatever him and Donnie were planning. Well- he did know what they were planning which is why he’s TRYING his very best not to think about it too much…
Now, don’t get Leo wrong, he can be a menace. He’s been called it many many times by different people, which he takes a LOT of pride in. And he can become even MORE a menace when he’s tickling one of his brothers. To funny remarks to rib-counting to teases. Leo was one scary of a Ler and that was just something you just couldn’t deny.
But sadly, the universe wouldn’t allow Leo to be the only scary Ler in the family. The universe had to give him not 1 but 2 older siblings that were terrifying as FU- fudge when it came to tickling.
When it came to Raph and Donnie, they were just…vile. Finding every single possible way to tickle and fluster they’re Lee until they can’t even think straight.
Since Raph was, like, a TITAN in turtle form, it’s completely impossible to escape him while he’s wrecking you. And since he’s the eldest he will just go on and on and ON about how he was “The best Tickle Monster.” And that stupid thing he would always do was give “Raph-berries.” Basically raspberries but he’s nibbling you as well and it was TORTUROUS.
Now Donnie was an evil force to be reckoned with. For one, he would cheat. The softshell would use his spider arms to ping your arms up so you couldn’t squirm. And worst of all he would pretend as if him wrecking you was a whole big science experiment. Testing out his “hypothesis” or whatever other big words Donnie knew.
So getting that out of the way, Leo knows he’s absolutely dead. Deceased. Expired. 6 feet under…
The red eared slider just knows he’s completely screwed. Based on the facial expressions, body language and overall demeanor of his older brothers, the two were out for revenge. And Leo and Mikey being more sensitive than them, (Leo being a tad bit more ticklish than Mikey), they knew they couldn’t stand a chance. All the two were doing was wiggling their fingers and Leo and Mikey were giggly messes…
“Talk about what, little brother? Talk about how you scared the living heck outta me with all those posters of Mrs. Cuddles that you put all over my room?” Raph taunted, stepping closer and closer to Leo making the younger giggle more frantically.
“I-Ihit wahas funny though!” The younger one stammered, “Actually, now that you mention it…SHE’S RIGHT THERE, LOOK!” Leo screamed, pulling out a completely terrified look out of nowhere pointing somewhere ahead of him, pretending where he was pointing was Mrs. Cuddles.
Hey, he’s not called the Face-man for nothing!
“Wait- WHAT? WHERE?!” Raph screamed, frantically looking around Donnie’s lab to try and spot Mrs. Cuddles. But the only thing he saw was a certain red eared slider running away from him.
Well played…
That little shit.
Before Leo could attempt to try to hide somewhere in the lab, Raph came from behind him, picking the younger up and putting him on his shoulder, carrying him to the middle of the lab where Donnie and Mikey were. Donnie already “captured” Mikey, using his spider arms to hold his arms so he couldn’t try and run away again.
Leo started to hit the back of Raph’s shell, squirming to try and get out of the older’s hold as a bunch of giggly threats flooded out of his mouth. The snapper only rolled his eyes, poking Leo in the side causing the him to let out a surprised shriek followed by frantic laughs. “Don’t forget the position you're in, bud.”
“Yohou guhuys! Plehease dohon’t- noHO Deehee!” Mikey squealed as Donnie released him from his tech arms, sitting down on the carpet floor and pulling him into his lap as Raph did the same thing with Leo, sitting a little bit across from Donnie. Before the young genius could pin Mikey’s hands up- as he originally planned on doing, the youngest retracted into his shell, giggling smugly as Donnie tried to get him out by knocking on his shell repeatedly.
“Hey! You can’t do that!” Donnie said, crossing his arms and glaring at his younger brother. “Toohoo bad. I juhust did.” Mikey taunted, happy he found a way to escape Donnie’s tickly wrath.
Leo, about to go into his shell too was immediately caught by Raph. The older held up his arms, grinning and raising a brow. “Where do you think you’re going, Lee?” Raph asked, chuckling as Leo plastered a nervous smile on his face.
“Nohowhere…” The red eared slider giggled, looking around anywhere but Raph’s face before looking towards his younger brother who was soon about to break by the demon you would call Donatello.
“DeEHEE! NahAt the tUHuhUmmY!” Mikey squealed, squirming in his shell trying to get away from Donnie’s tickly fingers that were now dancing across his stomach. The older shook his head, grinning at the sound of the youngers frantic laughter.
“Then get out of your shell and fight like a real man!” Donnie taunted, which only caused Mikey to whine throughout his giggles but not coming out of his shell. Suddenly, Donnie stopped tickling his tummy, poking at the boxer turtle’s lower rib. “Boop.”
The younger's reaction was almost immediate as he came out of his shell completely to grab at Donnie’s wrists. “There we go~! See! Was that so hard?” Donnie smiled innocently, using his spider arms to pin Mikey’s arms up. Donnie just smiled at Mikey as Raph let go of Leo to begin tickling his sides.
“Pfft- nohohoho!” Leo giggled, hugging his middles and squirming a bit as Raph lightly scratched around his sides. The older one laughed in amusement, raising a brow and grinning at his reaction. “No? No, what? You two brought this upon yourselves!”
“Oho screw ohohoff!” Leo retorted, pushing at Raph’s wrists as Donnie just continued to look at the youngest, not doing anything quite yet.
“Whahat?” Mikey asked, looking at his older brother who’s face looked like he was solving the worlds hardest math problem- but the genius probably did stuff like that for fun anyway.
“Hm? Oh…nothing. Just trying to remember where you’re most ticklish, Angelo…I can’t quite seem to remember…” The softshell muttered, crossing his arms and looking up intensely at his midnight purple ceiling.
“Wha-?! Whahat ahare yohou tahahalking about??? Yohou know my worst spot!” Mikey giggled, rolling his eyes at his brother who only shook his head. “My apologies, Mikey. I sadly do not. But…perhaps you could possibly tell me?” Donnie smiled, a smile which only caused Mikey’s face to go a bright red. “I aham nohot telling! Yohou already know!”
Donnie laughed at the younger one’s answer, starting to trace his fingers along the place where Mikey’s shell met his neck- a known melt spot spot for the youngest. Mikey giggled slightly at the sensation, squirming a bit under Donnie’s hold.
"Are you ticklish anywhere else?" Donnie asks, not stopping his tracing, looking down at his younger brother’s face that indeed looked like a tomato- which is really weird because he hasn’t even tickled him for that long!
“Noho! I’m not! Juhuhust lemme gohoho!” Mikey squealed, kicking his legs trying oh so desperately to get off his older brother’s lap. “No? You're lying to me, aren't you?" Donnie chuckles, still not stopping as he continued to trace Mikey’s melt spot.
“I bet you're super ticklish. I just need to find the right spots! Just tell me where, and I'll be sure to avoid it like the plague." He pauses, giving the younger a chance to tell him where he was ticklish (because Donnie obviously didn’t know!). His voice was low and teasing now, a playful, taunting inflection in his words. "Or should I just start tickling you until I find out myself?"
Mikey just giggled, shaking his head and stomping his feet on the ground- determined to try and escape while he still could. “That's a yes, then?" Donnie chuckles, smiling a little to himself. "Alright, I'm going to take your lack of response as permission to tickle you." The softshell merely said as he now started to tickle the younger’s exposed underarms.
“HeHEY!” The boxer turtle shrieked, trying his best to squirm away from his older brother. “ThaHAT TIHIckles yohoU BiHIHiG jeHerk!” Mikey cried, regretting his words as soon as they came out.
“Does it?" Donnie chuckles in fake surprise, continuing to tickle Mikey’s underarms, his hands being gentle- not getting to his worst spots…not yet at least. “You really shouldn’t have said that, Mike~!” He remarks, smiling as the younger one only laughed more at the tease. The second oldest soon began to pick up the pace of his tickly fingers, laughing as Mikey tried to hide his face in his elbow- not being able to hide them in his hands since his arms were pinned up.
“What are you squirming around for, hm?” I vividly remember you saying you weren’t ticklish anywhere else…” Donnie stated matter-of-factly. “IHI LIhihiED, AhaLRIGHT? Ihi lihihIED- dOHOn PLEHease! QuiHIT IHIT!” The younger admitted, his laugh muffled from hiding his face away in his arms.
“Do you hear that, Raph? This little shit lied to me! Can you believe that?!” Donnie cried dramatically before lightly scratching his fingers at the sides of Mikey’s neck- making the younger let out a high-pitched squeal; not hiding in his arm anymore as he threw his head back in full blown laughter.
“I wouldn’t be lying to Donnie if I were in your position, Mike. Just saying.” Raph said casually as if there wasn’t a red eared slider in his lap, laughing his shell off and squirming like he’s being electrocuted.
“And you. Stop squirming so much! Your making it hard to get your good spots!” Raph playfully scolded down at Leo, tickling at the younger’s ribs, chuckling as Leo grabbed his wrists and uselessly tried to pull them away.
“Ihi’m gOHOnna gEhet yohOU guhuys baHAHAck soho bahahad yoHOu’ll wiHIsh yohOU neHEver knew meehee!” Leo threatened, lightly punching the air in hopes to hit Raph. Which- none of them did. But hey, A for effort, right?
“Oho I bet you are.” Raph laughed sarcastically as he began to tickle Leo’s stomach. “Someone has a ticklish tum-tum, I see~?” Raph teased as Leo’s face began to go almost as red as the oldest’s bandanna. “DOOHOO *snort* naHAT CAHaLL IhiT THAHAT!” Leo squealed, kicking his legs and throwing his head back in hysterics.
“RAHAHPHIEEEE! PLEHEASE! STAHAP IHIT!” Leo cried, still trying to grab at Raph’s hands as they were lightly pushed out of the way each time he tried. Raph smirked as the younger pleaded, only making Raph tickle his stomach more lightly- almost feather-like.
“I will stop as soon as you and Mikey apologize!” Raph smiled. “Agreed. As soon as you two apologize, we’ll stop reminding you two just how ticklish you are.” Donnie exclaimed as he began to knead Mikey’s thighs. The box turtle shrieked, kicking his legs in hopes that the kicking will make it harder for Donnie to tickle him there.
“NAHAHA! DEEHEE! NAHAT *squeak* THEHEHERE!” Mikey squealed, still kicking his legs but Donnie’s hands stayed firm as he began to knead harder. “IHIT TIHIHICKLES! DAHANNIE *squeak* PLEHEASE *squeak* STAHAP!”
“Hm? What? What’s so funny Angelo?” Donnie asked, looking back at his younger brother who- by the way- looked like a full on turtle tomato. “WEEHEE’RE SORRY!” Mikey cackled. Donnie nodded his head, looking at Raph but not stopping tickling Mikey.
“Hey, did Leo apologize yet?” Donnie asked. “Nope! Which I think is a bit rude considering your situation don’t you think, Leo?” Raph asked, stopping tickling Leo to let him breathe as Donnie did the same with Mikey.
“Yohou are thehe woHORST older brohohother eveher…” Leo giggled at Raph, knowing he was absolute dead meat after that comment but couldn’t help himself. Mikey made a teasing ‘ooooh~!’ sound, giggling at Leo’s comment to they’re eldest brother.
“Personally, I wohohould nohot tahake that amount of disrespect…” Mikey giggled as Raph only sighed, shaking his head before smirking. Raph flipped Leo around so that his shell was facing the ceiling- and as he did so Leo felt as if his soul left his entire body.
Leo and his big mouth…
“AHAHA! NOHO! NOHO WAHAIT *snort* A SEHEHECOND!” Leo panicky giggled, kicking his legs and lightly punching on Raph’s thighs. “Waitwaitwaitwait- lehet’s tahalk- RahaHAHAPH! RAHAHAPH WAHAHAIT!” Leo giggly panicked, his laughter increasing as Raph slowly lowered his head to the back Leo’s knees, ALMOST touching it with his face.
“What? Wait for what?” Raph grinned, waiting for Leo to reply but the only response he got from the slider was snorting cackles. Raph took a deep breath before blowing a raspberry on the back of Leo’s knees, causing the younger turtle to go absolutely mad in laughter. Leo covered his face with his hands, muffled cackles bouncing around the walls along with Mikey’s squeaky cackles as Donnie gave raspberries to Mikey’s stomach.
“Jeeheez…you guys are really ticklish, huh~? I wonder how long they could last…what do you think, Don?” Raph asked before going back to blowing raspberries on the slider’s knees, not showing him any mercy now.
“I estimate about 3 more minutes or so…but it doesn’t really matter because I don’t plan on stopping until I hear an apology from Leo~!” Donnie tauntingly sang, laughing as Leo and Mikey’s laughs became more louder after that. “Besides, these two had what was coming to them for a while.”
Mikey absolutely paled at Donnie’s tease. This wasn’t fair! This wasn’t fair one bit! He already apologized! He surrendered!But because of Leo’s stupid comment and the denial that’s he’s the most ticklish out of all 4 of them, they’ll probably be here for an hour!
“LEEHEEO! LEEHEEON *squeak* PLEHEHEASE! JUHUHUST AHAPOHOL- *squeak*” Mikey cackled as Donnie began to blow raspberries on Mikey’s ribs now, scribbling his fingers along his sides too.
“So? What’s it gonna be, Leo? Have you had enough?” The eldest asked as Leo only glared at him through his laughter, throwing his head back again. Leo shook his head, banging his fists on the carpet. The poor slider was trying to act high and mighty but was still squirming like a fish out of water trying to get back into the ocean…
Or, in this case, trying not to get tickled to pieces.
“Stop squirming, Leo. You aren’t going anywhere. I could do this allllll day.” Raph teased as he blew another raspberry on Leo’s stomach. “Well, scientifically speaking, you can.” Donnie said, stopping giving Mikey raspberries but still tickling his stomach with both hands.
“I was doing some research for um…scientific purposes and I figured out that alligator snapping turtles and softshell turtles can hold they’re breaths for an hour. So, as long as we take certain breaths now and again we could blow raspberries on Leo and Mikey’s ticklish tummies for as long as we-“
“WEEHEE GEHET IHIT!!!” The two youngest screamed, not wanting to hear anymore of Donnie’s “scientific discoveries” about how him and Raph were the most devious ticklish monsters on the planet.
Donnie and his dumb-dumb research.
“Huh…you don’t say…” Raph smiled, trying to test Donnie’s theory about the whole “not needing to breath thing for an hour” thing. He blew probably like the millionth raspberry on Leo’s stomach.
And…Donnie was right! Not that he had one single doubt on his immediate younger brother’s genius of course! It just sounded too good to be true! He will definitely be using this tactic on Leo and Mikey in the future…and maybe April too! He’s definitely not scared of the aftermath of when he does that to her…
Raph smiled, not being taking a single breath as he continued to give a raspberry to the back of one of Leo’s knees. Raph was enjoying this new skill he could do very well! Leo on the other hand…was going absolutely ballistic.
“NAHAO, *snort* AHANYWHERE *snort* EHELSE! NAHAT *snort* THEHE KNEEHEEHEES!” Leo screamed, punching Raph’s thighs lightly again. “Awh~? Why not~? Is this a bad spot, Lee?” Raph teased into Leo’s knees, finding this whole situation quite amusing indeed.
“OHOMIGAHAHA-!!! YEHES! IHIT’S *snort* SOHO FREEHEEAKING BAHAHAD!” Leo cackled, not knowing what to do but just laugh and kick his legs. He was absolutely defenseless! There was nothing more he could do but just take it! “So…it tickles? Would you say this tickles too~?” Raph asked as he began to nibble at the back of Leo’s knees along with giving raspberries at the same time. Or, “Raph-berries” if you will.
“RAHAHAPH! NAHAH- *snort* IHI HAHATE YOHOHAHAH!” Leo snorted, his hands starting to flap against the carpet floor, making light thumping noises.
Raph laughed, a smile still plastered on his face- but instead of that eat shit-and-die” expression he had on earlier, this smile was way more fond.
Fun fact: Anytime Leo was tickled by his siblings, he younger would start happy stimming with his hands. His siblings think it’s the most adorable thing ever- much to Leo’s disagreement.
And it was so funny because he couldn’t even deny that he hated being tickled (even though he did anyway)! The evidence was right there!
“You didn’t answer my question, little bro! Does it tickle?” Raph pressed on, eager to get an answer out of his younger brother. “ *YEHES! MY GAHAHAD! OHOBVIOUSLY!” Leo screamed, still trying to kick Raph off of him.
“Just making sure!” The oldest smiled sweetly, still not stopping his new ability on the second youngest’s knees. Leo whined throughout his cackles, covering his face once more. “Don’t be like that, little bud! You know you love it!” Raph teased.
“NAHAO *snort* THE HEHEHELL IHI *snort* DOHOHON’T!” Leo screamed, happy stimming with his hands again.
“Your body language says otherwise, bud.” Raph teased back.
Back with the PB&J Duo, Donnie an idea sparked in the genius’ head. His eyes sparkled as he grinned at Mikey- causing the youngest to gulp in nervousness. He knew what his older brother was planning…
“Dohonatello- Dohon’t yohou dahahare…” Mikey warned, glaring at Donnie as a warning. But that so-called warning only made Donnie laugh. “Oh I dare. Oh I so, so dare, Angelo.” Donnie taunted before blowing raspberries on Mikey’s plastron where his ribs would be.
The younger let out a glass shattering squeal, causing Donnie and everyone in the lab to flinch a bit. But like Leo- Mikey can’t really do anything but just laugh at this point.
“PLEHEHEHEASE! DAHAN- *squeak*! STAHAP!” Mikey cackled, kicking Donnie in the side with his knees which only caused Donnie to chuckle. “I think our little brothers have mutated into a pig and mouse.” Raph laughed, both him and Donnie laughing at the comment- because they couldn’t really deny that fact that.
“OKAHAY! OKAHAY!” Leo screamed, his hands flapping on Raph’s thighs repeatedly. The older chuckled at the gesture, fighting every ounce of him not to take a picture with Donnie’s phone right now at the younger’s adorableness. “Okay, what Lee~?”
“IHIHI’M SAHAHARRY!!” Leo snorted, his hands still flapping happily and Raph couldn’t help but laugh fondly at it. “Should we let them go, Raphie?” Donnie asked, still nibbling at Mikey’s plastron but eyes on Raph, waiting for his answer.
“Yeheah, we should. We don’t want to accidentally kill them...” Raph said to his immediate younger brother, chuckling at his own joke. The two oldest stopped tickling the two youngest, letting the two just relax in they’re laps; trying to catch they’re breaths.
“Oho my gohod….” Leo breathed out, turning to his side so he could see both Donnie and Mikey. Raph laughed as he rubbed the younger one’s head; trying to soothe him. The younger teen squirmed, holding Raph’s wrist as the older laughed some more. “I’m not gonna tickle you, bud.” He said, continuing to rub Leo’s head as the red eared slider stopped holding his wrists, excepting the gesture.
“Thahat was fuhun!” Mikey giggled with Leo, sitting up and leaning on Donnie’s plastron- now being able to use all of his limbs. The softshell then used his spider arms to give the pranking duo two glasses of water- which the two happily accepted.
“Speak fohor yourself…” Leo giggly grumbled, putting the finished glass of water to the side after drinking it and leaning on Raph’s plastron.
“So! I guess now you two know not to mess with your older brothers, right?” Donnie asked, wrapping Mikey in a hug before lightly squeezing his sides, causing the younger to let out a screech. “YeHES! We learned our lesson, okahay?! Jeeheez! Couldn’t you have warned us in text or something?” Mikey whined, pushing at Donnie’s face lightly.
“Nah. This was way more fun.” Raph and Donnie both said, smiling as the two youngest groaned fondly at they’re answer to Mikey’s question.
——————————————————————
This fic has been a WIP for a LONG ASS TIME so I decided to finish as soon as my stupid exams ended and post it lol-
But srsly- I love this HC for Raph and Donnie sm it’s so evil <3 I hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :D
(Also sorry if the phrasing and/or pacing is weird- this is my first time writing with two lees and two lers- I dunno what I’m doing 😭💀😂)
P.S. Since Summer just started for me I will be able to work on more of my WIP’s so keep watch for ‘em :p
#If you couldn’t tell I love writing Raph#He’s such a great character and an even better tickle monster#Brains and Brawn#Its been a couple of months but I think I can officially say they’re my favorite duo#The beginning of the fic was just proof of that#Sorry this took like 2 months to make 💔💔💔#As I said- I had no idea how to write 2 characters getting tickled at the same time#I love you all with all my heart but I’m NEVER doing that again#It was so hard-#But thank you K for giving me advice for it ✨💗💞#This fic wouldn’t have been finished without you 💕✨#Also thank you Jo as well for helping me remember what I wrote for one scene because dOCS FREAKING DELETED IT#This fic probably would be half its size if it wasn’t for ya ✨💗💕#Leo and Mikey are such a shits I hope I did them justice#Oh wait who am I kidding- I’m a younger sibling ofc I have em justice#Raph-berries#Plz- I hate him sm /lh#Donnie acting oblivious to where his Lee is ticklish and “figuring out” the spots might be my new favorite thing#Cuz he could wreck you if he wanted to but he’ll just leave you in suspense 😉#Like the mean older brother he is#Rottmnt#Rottmnt tickle#Rottmnt Mikey#Rottmnt Leo#Rottmnt Raph#Rottmnt Donnie#Lee!Mikey#Lee!Leo#Ler!Donnie#Ler!Raph
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There’s always gonna be something about the inevitable tragedy in Chris’s story that gets to me. No matter what happens, there will be a devastating loss that cannot be altered, cannot be changed, cannot be fixed. If he doesn’t remember, it’s the erasure of a fiercely loyal and determined witch who sacrificed more than his life but his very existence to save a world he never saw. If he does remember, he’s of two different worlds that cannot exist together at their core, costing him an entire world of people he can never get back. There is no uncomplicated happily ever after for him and it will always be a bittersweet ending at its happiest. In the end, success encases a profound amount of loss that even magic can’t touch.
#charmed#chris halliwell#abi speaks#i think thats always something i struggle with bc i so badly want him to have an uncomplicated happy ending#bc he deserves one! out of everyone he so deserves one#but by the very nature of his story he isn't allowed to have one#to paraphrase a line from a fic i wrote a couple years ago there's always that thought that he killed the rest of the world himself#bc they existed and they were shaped by the world and those events never happened so they aren't dead but gone like sand in the wind#like how do you DEAL with that#i am once again having chris halliwell feels at 1 am what else is new#i feel like it should be my brand bc my entire personality is chris and bianca stan#it probably helps that it's the posts about them that people interact with the most tbh
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hey does anyone wanna bounce bellhands/they all went to pirate school together ideas with me? im trying to figure out the missing pieces of my personal set up and it might be easier with someone else!
#if youve never spoken to me before please be aware i will type a whole paragraph in response to one (1) sentence#but if ur down for that! please.#ive got like. the start and the end and a couple bits in the middle fleshed out but it doesn't f l o w#this is the problem with trying to condense more than a years of ideas into one cohesive narrative. i usually swap and change things as#and when it suits so im like. i don't know what i need in this#its just for my silly little tumblr post but#i would appreciate it <3#i can send you what ive wrote and we can go from there or we can start from scratch bouncing ideas or u can just ask me questions#or something to help fill in gaps idk whatever works for u! what ive got is like. a fuckin mess honestly its ramblings and half finished#thoughts and just. its. a complete state and thats not even touching on whats missing (like. anything that matters in the middle basically)#nyxtalks#ofmd#bellhands#sam bellamy#izzy hands#israel hands#if you're unfamiliar with the concept: its Hornigold era stuff; jack + ed + izzy + sam all sailing under him and learning the ropes togethe#im not trying to go into too many details; just the underlying structure that is what I think of when i think of them#its probably not something anyone else cares about but i think i need it for some of the more fun 'what if Izzy went with sam' posts#i realised if i wanted to say what the divergence point was i Needed to establish all this lol#'oh yeah its when izzy chooses sam after the mutiny despite their argument' NYX WHAT ARGUMENT. you need to tell us what u mean
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Thinking about fliporiana makes me craaaazzyy. What if we were destined to be together but also destined to have our relationship fail but we were still so so in love. Breaking fate just to be in each other's arms y'know
#fliporiana#slimeriana#elmariana#slimecicle#to add quackity into the mix he's the guy who isn't soulmates with either of them but still in love <3#actually what if i wrote a soulmates au about these 3 ignoring soulmate bonds and falling in love#cause imagine slime and Quackity being good friends and Quackity has a big crush on him and he thinks 'oh charlie isnt big on soulmates so#maybe i have a chance' then mariana comes stumbling into their life and they learn he's Charlie's soulmate and the two immediately click#and Quackity feels jealous and heartbroken and he starts pulling away but charlie drags him back into his life cause hey he likes quackity#too. and Quackity learns that apparently slime and mariana talked it out and Mariana is cool with it and the three become the most#unconventional couple <3
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#Holy cow#I found my first forgotten attempt at fanfiction the other day#AND I WROTE IT IN FIRST PERSON#I'm gagging over whatever on earth this abomination is#(It's not MBS in case anyone's wondering)#I just kind of forgot I had this hidden somewhere#But it's kind of nice to see how much I've improved in the last couple of years#SUCH AS REALISING THAT FIRST PERSON IS A GARBAGE WAY TO WRITE#Not that I think anyone who does that is bad#I just don't like it for my own writing#But man was that weird#I see now why you guys do these nothing posts with rambles in the tags#It's kind of nice to have a release#I need to write more about Sticky#I want to#But it's on the list with my Cannonball fic and Wolf 359 ideas and also that Enlil fic I'm supposed to be working on right now#Yeesh Sophie chill out#Okay.#I'm going to take a deep breath now#Sorry to anyone who read this#Love you#I hope you're having a good day#rambles
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mayhaps we're getting 4 couples in the series?
#poom phuripan#my stand in the series#my stand in#professional body double#thinking about how deehup/iqiyi wrote that lesbian romance into ifylita out of thin air#i do not trust an iqiyi bl series to have only 1 couple 😅
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The Air Again
by Joanna Newsom
June of ‘78
who are you, so arrayed
on the banks of Lake Adair.
Pale lacuna agape
and like the moon in the lake
you are not there,
my poor canary.
At uncertain behest
Maggie blown to the west
in a shimmering dust of gold
with her pale yellow hair
they would call her ‘canary’.
And I loved my Maggie so,
and that is all you need to know.
But women here ain’t ever glad,
not even Emma Nevada,
coming back to share her wedding cake.
Women here ain’t ever free
(and Emma never left)
we never leave,
we never last
we never ask
we never stake a claim or complain or take.
Not till I made a play
for a parcel that lay
on the Amador county line.
Had a notion that I’d find employ by-and-by
at the Lonesome Willow Mine
but they don’t enlist my kind.
In the meantime,
set to prospecting where I was able
and laying my Maggie a table.
And when it was warm we would pan,
when it stormed play Fan-Tan,
and when it was cold
they’d come sniffin’
with gold in their hands.
On and on and again
on and on and again,
you do what you can.
Take an eighth of an ounce
in allowance for the dance, only a dance,
if you’re alone and abandoned and cast aside.
You know, the pastor tried
in vain to ask her hand,
even him, everybody did.
And I had a plan but I had to sign away my mine
and the deed left us free to scrape and bleed and go to seed and never marry
not canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary.
In the spring of that year
when the tinker was here,
gals would hire him to mend their tin.
I heard ‘em swarm from afar
like a storm in a jar,
like a choir of cherubim,
singing *him, hymn, hymns.
Whispering, ‘Maggie had gone
must’ve skipped with someone’,
sounded wrong
though it did seem fair.
April turned into May
and I looked every day for you, Maggie,
‘til I heard they found a whore
with the golden hair
on the shores of Lake Adair.
On the sluice she was spread
loose and languid and dead
from the kindness that she had shown.
Still she told me her tale lifting veil after veil
to expose a grin a-honed,
my yellow rose in the lode a-blown.
And though I long to believe
as I muddied my sleeve,
and I studied the wiccan hap,
and I want to revive,
she was never alive.
But by the grace
and the whim,
and the wheel,
and again,
and the wickedness of men.
But what to do then?
I hauled myself up from the shore
and I called at the door
of the foreman.
I told him and he laughed.
So, alas, there was savagery there.
Left a hole in his heart you could roll a cabbage in
‘A cabbage?!‘
“Oh, no no, just a little one, Maggie, just a little one.”
On and on and again ‘til they saw what I am
and I am never done,
I am never done.
Went inside for the light,
got a paper and a pen,
where to begin?
Do you sue for the rights?
Root* for the strike?
Through the alluvium
to where it heeds
*for I’m putting my own ruin ‘til the end to lure o’er the deed.
A noose on a live oak tree bent toward the saloon tent
and meant for me and Maggie.
And though it wasn’t him,
it could’ve been him,
or anyone who had done
what I know so many men intended when they came to win.
So arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant.
Held a cloth to my hands
taking stock of my plans,
well, there was something I had to make right.
I took his old buggy whip
and I lowered a skip
in the glow of the sodium lights
with a load of dynamite.
Maggie said, “I am here.”
And with a touch on the ear,
“After thirty years down in the mine,
help me lead out the mules
help me free the poor fools,
let them see for the very first time
they were blind, blind, blind.”
Then we rode through the rift and we beckoned to moon reflectin’
and she opened her neck like a stream.
I saw the Father appear,
heard her sob in my ear
like a mob of cherubim,
howling “him, him. It was him. It was him.”
So I threw a charge down the shaft
in the cart with the pastor
who spat and evangelized.
He was the last and the worst —
canary always goes first —
to sing where the waters rise,
hear her sing – go on now, Maggie –
On and on, on and on, on and on, and again
and on and on
on and on and again
on and on and again.
Then a knock on the wall and a knock and we all fall in
and down and in, and down and in
and we pass away.
But we pass only the baton man to man,
and so they return.
Pull the pumps, fill the sumps,
for they’re takin’ something;
they will never learn,
they will never learn.
And even if the churn drill and the stamp mill and the Pelton wheel,
and the smoking furnace all a-burning, overturning, learning
she will never breathe the air
again air again air again air again air again air again air again air again air.
Like a screech of a flare,
or like they’re reaching for air
beneath the smothering eiderdown.
Veins of gold, still outstretched
in a silent arrest
for miles and miles abound.
And if I’m underground
let me join in that line,
let me toil in that mine,
let me find what is hiding there,
let me dig where I durst,
let me drink when I thirst
and let me breathe the peril air.
And breathe
for my canary,
and breathe.
Let me breathe.
Let me breathe for my canary,
breathe for my canary canary canary,
breathe for my —
canary always goes first —
breathe for my canary canary canary canary,
breathe for my —
canary always goes first —
breathe for my canary canary canary canary canary canary,
breathe for my —
canary always goes first —
breathe for my canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary.
#joanna newsom#the air again#well that was a mighty task#made me do linguistics research too hahaha#she's a story teller extraordinaire#ok a few asterisks#'root for the strike' or 'route for the strike' both make sense just slightly different meaning but joanna loves a homophone#the same with 'him' or 'hymn' and here i think she's done it on purpose meaning in the official lyrics we might see both in different places#so there i wrote them both out#'for I’m putting my own ruin ‘til the end to lure o’er the deed' this one's a tough cookie i also hear 'open moon'#she does sing about the moon in a couple places here so it'd fit but it doesn't make sense so i'm sticking with the version i wrote out#this was fun thanks for indulging me <3#jnew5 lyrics#love joanna#jnew
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somehow found myself looking up who wrote which dw episodes and am suddenly realising that on bare statistics i like moffat as a writer like 6x more than rtd which is a surprise to me, ngl.
#dw shit#out of all of rtd's eps of dw i think i'd only say he wrote two actual good ones#one one of them has a co writing credit on it#like i Like more of his episodes but... hm wouldn't jump to good#meanwhile a couple of moffat's good ones i don't enjoy that much l o l#i'm only coming to this revelation late bc i generally actively try not to know who wrote what#but said fuck it and went on wiki#that said tho a bunch of good ones were not showrunner penned in every era#feel bad for them getting the short end of the stick a lot of the time
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I was told you like qpr jesslake? I know IT isn't what your big on right now, but I was wondering if you had any specific head canons or thoughts!
i DO like qpr jesslake! i don't have many specific headcanons or thoughts (especially ones that i haven't already posted/written about) but off the top of my head:
-they probably got together before either of them knew that queerplatonic relationships were A Thing. just like "i wanna be with you but i don't wanna be Dating. but like, fuck the rules that say we have to put our relationship into boxes"
-and they were *basically* already Together before they made it Official (this prolly happened a couple years post-canon)
-they sometimes say like "they're my partner" when asked about their relationship, but more often it's just "he's my jesse" and "they're my lake"
-similarly, they don't call each other pet names. lake's not much of a cutesy nickname person, but will occasionally call jesse stuff like dumbass (affectionate) like i do to some of my friends. jesse is USUALLY the type to make up fun nicknames for his loved ones but calling lake anything except their real name feels Wrong to him. but he says their name with such love that it might as well be a term of endearment
-they're pretty physically affectionate and aren't really shy about showing it. but it's less mushy snuggly type affection and more just. being basically joined at the hip and/or flopping on each other like two cats
-if you headcanon lake as getting adoptive/foster parents rather than living with jesse's family: these two are at each other's houses CONSTANTLY. extremely frequent sleepovers. their parents know better than to try to separate them
#eliot posts#intr#infinity train#jesslake#queerplatonic jesslake#i am rotating them like rotisserie chickens in my brain#anyway i think all of these i have either wrote text posts about or included in the couple of oneshot fics i wrote abt these two#unfortunately i have nothing too new to offer you#you can prolly find the posts in my infinity train tag#and my ao3 username is yardsards as well#i think my infinity train fics are decent?#(my toh fics on the other hand... i just do NOT like how they came out (and they are both currently unfinished lmao))#lake infinity train#jesse cosay
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Jillian doesn't believe in hell, perdition or sin, but she must admit that divine punishment seems to hang over her head every time she looks at Mother Superion now.
A nun. Of all women, it had to be a nun.
From being at war with the church to tempted to invite it into her bed, Jillian Salvius has become quite the blasphemer. Proof that there really is no god since no lightning bolts have hit her on the head — yet.
Still she looks, still she welcomes the responding looks and touches.
If there's a hell, might as well enjoy the ride…
#warrior nun drabble#doctor superion#jillian salvius#not my best BUT it's here and it needs to be posted because the essay is coming and i need to clear my drafts lol#actually i wrote this at 1am a couple of weeks ago and it came out directly. somehow. i did 109 words at 1am without thinking#which is why i'm sharing it too; that's a bit of a feat. there's even humour? me cracking a joke?? a novelty#i only have five minutes online right now so i'll be back later to post this on ao3 too. blog follower privileges!#narratives and similar#warrior nun
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i need to write more he/him 13
#yesterday i was writing fic and idk what happened but in the middle of a sentence i was like 'she' and i went 'uhh???'#like it was so immediately clearly wrong and jarring#i never have that with 13 even in the he/him fic i wrote it took a couple of sentences to get into it#i should check what the sentence was theres probably some gender bias for me to dig out there#anyway i need to find an idea for this#maybe i'll do he/she 13 where the fam isnt entirely sure what to do and the doctor wont explain anything so#everyone is just doing whatever and 13 is giggling to herself thinking of what he said to bill on the roof#waiting for someone to ask so she can brush them off with an evasive non-answer pretending she doesnt know exactly what hes doing#get more genderfucky by having her dress up in period clothes and everyone in the past (and future) is#using hints from his clothes except those gendered hints arent always the same as ppl from the 21st century would take either so#it just confuses everything more
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Never Again, Don't Leave Me
Content warning: mentions of blood, swearing
(This is my first time writing fanfic so feedback is greatly appreciated.)
Five days.
That's how long it had been since Tim was admitted to the hospital. And Bernard didn't even find out until the second day. Through a news report. Not from Stephanie. Not from Dick Grayson. Not from Bruce Wayne. The fucking Channel 8 news.
'Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne Admitted to Hospital After Sustaining Gunshot Wounds'
'Fuck. Not again.'
Darla bleeding out in the school nurse's office. Tim bleeding out on a ballroom floor.
'Please god not again.'
Bernard doesn't even remember how he got to the hospital, let alone leaving his apartment. His socks are soaked. Must've run there in the rain. Entering the hospital was a blur. A lot of pleading, yelling, screaming - most of it from him he thinks - and the same phrase repeated over and over again: "Family members only."
"Family members only."
"Family only."
"Family."
'I'M HIS FUCKING BOYFRIEND!'
So here he is. Day 4 of sleeping in the uncomfortable waiting room chair, nibbling on the shitty energy bar he got from the hospital vending machine. Bernard's honestly surprised they haven't kicked him out yet. Pity most likely. The nurse he yelled at on the first day keeps bringing him water when he's asleep. He really should apologize to her, she's just doing her job.
Right now he just feels numb. Stephanie's probably tried to call him, but he's pretty sure his phone is dead by now. Now he's just sitting, waiting for someone, anyone, to let him see Tim or at least let him know how he's doing.
'He's fine he's fine he's fine. They would've sent you home already if he was-'
"Bernard?"
He recognizes that voice, from Tim's video calls with his family. He's even heard it on TV a couple of times.
He turns to face Dick Grayson, eldest son of the Wayne clan and the brother Tim's closest to based on their weekly phone calls.
"Hey." Bernard's voice came out raspy and quiet. When was the last time he drank something?
"Hey," Dick said, moving to take a seat next to him. "How long have you been here?"
"What day is it?"
"Tuesday."
"Oh. Um" - he pinched the bridge of his nose - "since Saturday I guess."
Dick's face is weird. He seemed to be going through at least five different emotions at once, the most prominent being anger. Bernard really wished he was better at reading faces. Then he would have never made that dumb joke about Tim's dad abusing him back in high school, noticed how weird he was when the girl Robin appeared, or understand the emotion that crossed Tim's face whenever he had to cancel a date.
"Have you seen him yet," Dick asked softly.
"No," he responded bitterly, "'family only.'"
"Oh. And no one's-"
"No."
He heard a large exhale after that. Bernard didn't bother to remove his hands from his eyes after hearing the chair next to him scrape across the linoleum floor. Less than a minute later he heard Dick's sneakers squeak towards him.
"Come on," Dick said, holding his hand out, "they said we can see him now."
He takes his hand and doesn't let go until they get to Tim's room.
Stopping in front of the door Dick starts, "They said he's in a coma right now but he's stable. It shouldn't be very long until he wakes up."
Bernard knows those words should be comforting, but the fact that he didn't know that for almost a week just makes him angrier.
"You go first, okay?" Dick says, flashing him a small smile. "I'll be right out here."
He feels so fucking selfish. Dick is his brother and he's probably been worried sick about him. He deserves to see him a lot more than Bernard does. All he can say is, "okay."
Walking in he doesn't know what he expected, his boyfriend covered in blood? He looks peaceful like he's finally getting the eight hours of sleep Bernard keeps forcing him to get or when he falls asleep watching Blade Runner for the 700th time. He's pale, paler than his normal Gotham pale, but still looks peaceful. If it wasn't for the steady beeping of the heart monitor or the breathing apparatus strapped to his face, Bernard would've thought he walked in on one of Tim's random cat-naps. Rounding the bed, he takes a seat in the armchair next to the window. It's a lot more comfortable than the chairs outside.
For a while, he just sits and watches Tim breathe, his exhalations fogging up the oxygen mask every so often. He starts reaching for Tim's hand, wondering if he's allowed to touch him.
'Fuck it.'
Bernard grabs his hand like Tim's going to sink right through the pristine hospital sheets and he starts talking.
"Hey, Timmy. Yeah, I'm gonna call you that because you're asleep and you can't stop me. I just wanted to tell you that you better wake up soon or you're gonna miss all the fun things I got planned. They're holding another Jonathan Lord marathon soon. I know we missed the last one because you had an emergency. And Tweedle-D's is opening again. They're giving out complimentary milkshakes to Louis Grieve kids who come. I'm so close to getting my certification too, just a few more classes and we can go together. We can be totally disgusting and share one. Then there's that new amusement park opening up in Burnside. I know you said your last amusement park date didn't go well but hey, maybe we can try something new. And I can't wait to go to my first pride with you. I've never had the guts to go by myself, even after I figured out I wasn't straight. And I would really love to spend it with you. A day to hang out at the park, party with other people, and just be ourselves. Sounds super fun right? I just... I can't lose you... not like Darla or... or Laura - shit! Just... fuck. Please..."
'Don't leave me again.'
#yuri writes stuff#this plot bunny has had a chokehold on me since 125 came out#leaving it there because i have nothing else past that point#i keep writing things thinking it'll be a couple paragraphs and then they come out as full-length novellas#why can't i put this much effort into my schoolwork 🙃#me while writing this: *takes the time to look up where the amusement park they went to is - doesn't actually look up#how a gunshot wound to the neck would be treated*#also yes timeline stuff - i decided to put batman 125 between the pride special and 'special delivery' bc i can/j#it's actually bc there's a whole 6 months between the ul stuff and the travis moore story and i think it just works better there#wrote this while listening to a mix of lo fi and chelmico's 'touhikou' on repeat (which is where the title's from)#batman 125#timbern#tim drake#bernard dowd#dick grayson#batfam#dc fanfic#timber#i love making my boy suffer#also couldn't resist inserting a little bit of emt!bernard in there#emt!bernard#ficlet
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Wsg queen, I have a slightly nsfw question (I’m ashamed this is why it’s anon) sooo, I need to know what the situation with the hickeys is, like a scenario where Sheila sees Kyle with one!! Or a AU where Stan and Kyle have to keep their relationship a secret
Anyways love u Nina!!!
wsg queen ( or whatever monarch your gender expression suits, i was just mirroring you ) i have a slightly nsfw answer, lmaoooo! just kidding, it is very tame and nothing i wouldn't write into pep, tbh. they like...lightly elude to things...but i am a woman of class, i swear!
side note: i think it's really funny that you guys are worried about your identities and sending in anons because...if i am honest...i have almost no idea who each of you are just based on your tumblr urls. like, i can kind of guess, but i'm still convinced i will be wrong haha!
anyways, i am a show not tell writer girlie, so *collective surprised gasp* i wrote something...which really is just dialogue and occasionally some written action because i got too lazy to finish it...again * second surprised collective gasp* SHOCKER!
i kind of fused both together for you. i swear to god it's not risque, tumblr leave me alone, bitch! they are just a little spicy and make out a little in the beginning and flirt a lot! but mostly they are just bickering like an old married because they are! young and not married but also old and married when they are dating!!!!
like if anything it got sad for a minute there...yeesh! lighten up, nina!
but here you go, i hope this answers your morally and sexually dubious ask message. please...again...laugh. help. *jazz hands*
( also no none of this is spelled right, who do u think i am?!
edit: please be nice to me, i forgot to mention i wrote half of this on my bathroom floor, alternating k.pedialyte, apple sauce and crackers fighting food poisoning...always make sure to check your burgers are cooked all the way through my darlings! if they are half baked like my brain...you will be sick! and not in the cool way, i fear! xoxo - nina )
Any exit through the passenger side door of Stan’s steel blue Toyota Prius had been rendered inoperable by a tall, lanky redhead that had been pushed up against the inside of it by the boy that owned the vehicle, but belonged endlessly to the other boy…whose cherry-flavored chapstick he was now wearing and spreading quite liberally and lasciviously across hungrily boy-bitten lips. It had been a ‘Good Luck’ kiss which, of course, had turned into several, resulting in a Good Luck M a k e o u t session, that was progressing as quickly as the faux blonde's hands and mouth were, up the slope of Kyle’s cheek, down the slant of his jaw, before landing with great care…
…wear and tear…on…
“Mmmmmmmm. I—St—Stan, my neck! My neck! MY N E C K!”
Once the heavenly mint-scented mist that was clouding his sound, future lawyer judgment and the dirty window behind his wild auburn hair, which Stan was whispering sweet-spicy nothings into, Kyle swerved hard, taking a rigid right into the front of the dash before all Hell broke loose, nearly breaking said neck in the process.
“Hmmmm…Your neck, your neck, your ne~”
Stan had worshiped against supple, spotted skin before being disengaged from his place of prayer with a loud POP! and sailing straight into the seatbelt, now smeared with spearmint.
As he got his bearings, the breathless boy had made a disappointed and surprised sound somewhere near the sharp shoulder blade of his super best boyfriend -- who was currently being super lame -- and sassed with exasperation, crossing his arms over his chest -- across which were the dark green and white emboldened letters of Kyle’s last name and jersey number.
And while Kyle constantly reprimanded Stan for stealing his clothes…Stan constantly countered that he would return his best friend’s clothes if his boyfriend returned his stolen heart to him…
…No such luck.
“Excuse me! I wasn’t done!”
Stan had tried to argue ( complained, really ), attempting to resume his passionate, very handsome, very angry, personal art project, which earned him a swift, punitive pinch from the other boy’s hand which Kyle had flattened over the empty place where Stan’s alleged ‘stolen heart’ used to be as he banished him back to the driver’s seat ( and Super Best Boyfriend Jail ) for his indecency and insolence with steam practically billowing out of his ears and his jaw twitching aggressively.
Kyle Broflovski spoke slowly and sternly, if only to keep his breathing even enough to speak.
“...If you just did what I THINK you just did: you are v e r y done.
Done for.”
Then, reaching up towards the rearview mirror, Kyle tilted it towards him with a flinch, screwing his eyes harshly shut in silent, stalking fear, before mustering up the courage and constitution to look at his reflection with his eyes…which fell wide open with his jaw at the sore sight. Literally.
“Ohhhhh my FUCKING—“
Suddenly flooded with dread and horror, Kyle suctioned a hand over his mouth to trap the rest of that scream…and several obscenities as he turned his head towards Stan with a pained, robotic stiffness and a voice so frighteningly hospital sterile that was ten times scarier than him yelling.
“S t a n.”
The 'Stan' in mention…and trouble…( **again )…gulped loudly before smiling nervously over at his boyfriend, who looked particularly murderous ( and ravishing, unfortunately ) at that heated moment, before resting his chin on his hands…which he formed into a heart shape. Oops.
“...Yes, baby?”
Stan’s parked car SHOOK with the intensity of Kyle Broflovski’s crescendoing anger and disbelief.
“YOU GAVE ME A FUCKING HICKEY!?”
Stan played with the rings on his left hand. And dumb.
“Oh, myyyyy bad! Did you want another one? I know symmetry is good for your OCD.”
Flirting, however, did not work the way it usually did in this situation and actually ended up hurting him as Kyle slammed the lever of Stan’s leaned back driver’s seat forward and watched as it WHACKED! him right in the back of his head.
Served him right.
“OW! KYLE!” Stan whined morosely, cradling the back of his head like he hadn’t nearly cracked it several times in the mosh pit carelessly last weekend.
“STANLEY MARSH.” Kyle pronounced with spine-chilling severity, as for one minute of mercy, Kyle tore his glare off of Stan, who he would certainly tear to shreds soon, as he examined his once pale neck where a large purple bruise now swirled like a giant kiss-swollen black hole.
“Whaaaaat?!” He protested with a pronounced, pepperminty pout, acting angelic and gesturing to Kyle demonstratively as he relayed the crass, cheeky claim of: “I had to sign my masterpiece!”
Then, fashioning his hands into a sectioned square, like he was talking a polaroid picture, Stan framed his 'signature' with a smirk.
“Pretty good, right? Think I should apply to some art schools?”
Kyle…did not return his jest.
Kyle was livid at best as he wiped his sweaty, shaking hands on his freshly-dry cleaned slacks and toyed with the collar of his dress shirt, as the universe and Stanley Marsh toyed with his emotions…and the fate of his academic future with no remorse.
“YOU — I don’t — I don’t even have TIME to strangle you right now! My HARVARD INTERVIEW is in TEN minutes!”
He scathed behind his bared teeth, with his eyes darting between him and the building that bore his fate. Which…someone…had sealed with a kiss.
“Was that today? Ohhhhh nooooo~…” Stan scratched the top of his head and seemed very busy suddenly studying one of millions of rips in his ripped jeans, whistling innocently.
Kyle turned the key into the ignition just to lay on the horn for thirty whole seconds. Stan winced.
“Don’t even TRY IT, bitch! You literally drove me here!”
Kyle took the key out of the ignition, but still made sure to look his boyfriend dead in the eye as he said, with an anger that was sizzling off his skin,
“…But you know what you’re driving me right now?”
Stan fluttered his eyelashes frivolously and flirtatiously.
“…Absolutely wild with desire?”
“CRAZY! IN-FUCKING-SANE!”
“But in a, like, ‘You can’t stop thinking about me and want to kiss me so bad’ way, right?...Riiiight?”
Then, mirroring the prior comedic timing of Kyle yanking the lever to Stan’s seat forward, just as he leaned back, Kyle pulled it, instead, backwards and Stan crashed backwards. Again. He snorted.
“OW! FUCK. OFF! QUIT IT, DUDE!”
“I will when you quit S t a n - b o t a g i n g my COLLEGE INTERVIEWS!”
“I did NOT!” “If I was going to Stanbotage your college interview…I would have given you waaaaay more.” “Which there is still time for, by the way! I can get a lot done in ten minut—“
Stan tried to lean over the center console to finish what he had started, but Kyle deflected him with his long arms and a sheet…well, a brick really…of printed papers that had 170 possible interview questions and possible answers on it…that Kyle had researched religiously.
“Ah, ah, AH! Nice try! Stay back, you succubus!” He raised his nerdy script like it was a lit torch. “You have done more than e n o u g h.”
Then…Kyle hit the panic button, hypothesizing hyper-pathetically, vibrating with stress and anxiety.
“OhmygodOhmygodOhmyGOD! What am I going to tell them?! Sorry, Harvard! I was just minding my own business when I was tonsil-tackled by our hormonal high school football captain! Or—or that I was viciously ATTACKED by a really hot, fake blonde part-time record store employee, who also happens to be my full-time secret boyfriend who also decided to BRAND ME LIKE CATTLE BEFORE MY EXTREMELY IMPORTANT COLLEGE INTERVIE—“
Stan chimed in for…what would possibly be his last time. Ever. On Earth. He held up a pretty boy peace sign, hoping it would deter the violence that his words were about to incur upon him.
“…Sorry, ADHD. I only caught the part in the middle about you thinking I’m really hot.” “But will you say it again, anyways?”
Kyle h i s s e d and Stan blew a kiss in his direction. It was their regular call and response.
“You could always…put me down as a reference…for an extracurricular activity.” He offered generously.
Kyle narrowed his eyes at his super best friend turned super worst boyfriend suspiciously.
“You…an extracurricular activity?”
“Yeah, y-you know!”
Stan snapped his fingers with false confidence, rattling off as many large, impressive vocabulary words as he could remember…with…strange but surprising accuracy.
“O-One that requires…dedicated…t-team building, s-sometiiiimes…arduous…pun…punctilious! Uh! T-Time management…The…the bolstering of efficacious intrapersonal…relationships…vigorous cardiovascular exercise and…uh...Flexibility?”
Kyle studied Stan, dream boy, nightmare boy, in stunned silence for a while…somewhere between deep adoration and admonition.
“Okay…Very…good word choice, but very poorly timed execution.”
“That is noooooot what you said last ni—“
“If you value your l i f e, you will NOT finish that sentence.”
Stan smiled, winding right up.
Oh, he had been ready for this one.
“Good thing I don’t!”
Stan shot Kyle a shameless finger gun and wink combo which Kyle re-directed towards his own head, taking off the safety and emptying the imaginary bullets rapidly into his OWN skull, which he looked like he wanted to smash open with the car door.
“You know what? Forget Harvard. What am I going to tell my MOM!?”
“Tell her your ‘really hot’ boyfriend did it.”
Kyle’s eye twitched and his nostril flared as he glared unblinkingly.
“Okaaaaaaaaay, ouch. Tell her your really ugly, hideous boyfriend who you hate did it!”
“Can you please be SERIOUS about this!?”
“Oh, you want me to be serious? Okay: you got it! I think it’s seriously fucking ANNONYING that you are grilling me for ONE hickey when you’ve given me…You like MATH, Kyle! Let’s c o u n t."
Stan's voice took on the excruciating elementary snail pace and nauseating faux-sweetness that would probably be used by Steve on Blues Clues.
"One, twooooo, three…”
“Oh my GOOOOD, St—“
“Four, five —ooh, big fan of five — six…”
“Look, I—“
“Yeah, Let’s L O O K! Let’s take a good, long look because that’s seven, eight….wow, NI…You know we're getting pretty close to Double Digits, are you sure you want me to keep going?”
“Stan…it’s different.”
“Different how? Because you’re smart and I’m not?”
There was a beat of silence just long enough for Stan to beat himself up.
“It’s okay. You can say it. Everyone else already does.”
Kyle’s instinctive overprotectiveness of his SBF gave way to his blind anger.
“NO, it’s NOT! And I told you not to talk about yourself like that! You are Very Smart…B-Bro.”
Stan winced and Kyle felt the full brunt of that ‘Bro’ hit him in the chest. The…B word. The nice, affectionate one was…very easy for Stan to say and rolled off his tongue effortlessly, but felt impossible for Kyle to say, causing him to freeze up and switch every time at the last second.
Ironically, Kyle Broflovski could say words with seventeen syllables in five different languages, but try as he might, he could not gather the courage or vulnerability to call his boyfriend ‘B a b y.’
“ — And also a massive fucking pain in my ass!” He continued, deflecting. “No, it’s different because you can just say they're from Wendy and I…”
Stan exploded, but it was almost all self destructive. His voice was raw and tender like a wound. It made Kyle physically ache to hear it.
“I don’t WANT to say they’re from Wendy! I want to say they’re from Y O U !”
Silence spanned between them and it was worse than p o i s o n.
“The hiding, the sneaking around, the lying…I HATE this shit, Kyle! I fucking hate this!”
“And you think I DON’T?!” He snapped, feeling all his sanity and resolve crumble to ash with it.
“Like I haven’t waited my entire l i f e to date you! Like this isn’t the best thing that has ever happened to me — that you aren’t the best thing that ever happened to me — and I can’t tell anyone? I just have to keep being in love with you a secret like I’ve had to for my ENTIRE LIFE!? You think I want that!?”
The idea was so fucking twisted it made Kyle sick. He had to endure the horrible suffering that was being quietly in love with your best friend since Kindergarten and even though his best friend had finally returned his furtive feelings...he still couldn't be loud about it. But Kyle told himself that holding his tongue was worth holding Stanley Marsh. That holding him in his arms for hours in private was okay even if he couldn't even hold his hand in public for more than a couple seconds.
“It’s just — it’s too complicated right now! Do you know how much harder it’s going to be for you to get football scholarships if…If you and I…If we…People will TALK. Most of my FAMILY will talk! And they have big, stupid, CONSERVATIVE mouths that they will run on Facebook and…”
Stan was not a fighter, but if he was going to fight for something it would be L o v e.
Or, in this case, the love of his life…who was trying to put them six feet in the ground not even six months out the gate.
“...And you don’t think pissing off some of your family members and me losing a couple of dumb football scholarships is worth this?…US?!”
“You KNOW that’s not what I meant! And…AND!”
He huffed, out of breath and out his m i n d as he watched his boyfriend, soon to be ex-boyfriend ( not because they were going to break up but because he was going to be broken up into tiny, indiscernible smithereens by Kyle’s wrath ) rifle through his glove box to procure a small black bag resembling a pencil case, ignoring him.
Oh, he was really going to get it this time.
“And you know WHAT, Stan? This is just LIKE you! You would rile me up and pick a fight with me on The Most Important Day of My Life just to SPITE me and get back at me for something I can’t even fucking CONTROL! You are so CHILDISH! And IRRESPONSIB — And…And on…on top of me, v-very close to my…my face. W-What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry about what I’m doing.” He breezed without a note of explanation as he adjusted his position, which at present was practically straddling his best friend-boyfriend, as he stationed his steady hands over his slender, shaking shoulders to try and lock him into place.
“Just stay still.”
Kyle was incredulous…and also extremely flustered.
At that moment it was very hard for his brain to discern whether he wanted to kiss Stanley Marsh or kill him. But his body was leaning towards that first one. He scoffed, now scarlet.
“No I — I think I will be Very Worried about what you’re doing! Stan, why…why are you…in my LAP!?”
“So I can get the best angle, obviously.”
He rattled off carelessly as he carefully inspected Kyle’s face and neck with the utmost collection and calm.
Which was…hilarious because Kyle was so nervous he thought he might be having a stroke.
“The best angle for WHAT? More s l u t t y, scandalous lip laceration of the skin above my larynx?...Stan, I only have FIVE minutes to salvage what I have left of the raging dumpster fire that is about to be my interview, you cannot SERIOUSLY BE—“
“K.P?”
Stan cooed, stilling Kyle’s body and breathing with his hand as it cupped the side of his face preciously. Reaching up, Stan languidly tucked a ginger curl behind Kyle’s freckled ear and rouge trailed down every blessed spot that Stan’s fingertips had kissed.
“You know I l o v e when you verbally eviscerate me…”
He quipped, using a new vocabulary word, but with a familiar friendly-fire taunt, half teasing, half tender.
“But will you please shut the f u c k up and let me do my thing?”
To which Kyle, did, in fact, shut the fuck up, but mostly because he couldn’t breathe as Stan did his thing…
Which Kyle had learned that day was m a k e u p. Trying to remain staunch in his irritation and not sway or swoon at the gentle, loving ministrations of Stan’s fingers against his skin, or how terribly cute he looked when he was biting his cheek in concentration, humming beautifully under his breath as he worked.
Then, with a snap! of a makeup pallet shut and a zip of his bag closed, Stan had announced…
“There. All done.”
Kyle studied his neck…that now hadn’t had even the whisper of a mark on it, completely shocked as he gawked at his boyfriend, secret best makeup artist and hickey obscurer.
“...Wow. You are freakishly good at that. Like…you can’t even t e l l. Maybe you SHOULD apply to some art schools…”
Stan took a deep breath...solemn and serious and...sorry. He looked up at Kyle sheepishly, stumbling through his apology.
“Ky…” “I’m sorry for…’Stanbotaging’ your college interview.”
“And I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. You can be right…just this once.” “..But let’s not do this right now, okay? Maybe…after my interview, over lunch? When you’re not *nervous kyle throat clearing noise*…over me? Because…I’m not sure if you’re aware but…”
He allowed himself a rare moment of humility and humanity he saved solely for Stan who, Kyle looked up and down indulgently and deliberately.
“You can be a little d i s t r a c t i n g.”
“Been told once or twice. By a credible, red-head-able source.” He winked playfully before hopping off with a frisky lick of mint chip lips.
Stan seemed pretty pleased with that one.
But it was the calm before the storm because, in a flash, Kyle looked like he was going to pull out his hair, literally as he spiraled and backpedaled, head in his hands, fingers knotted into follicles.
“Fuck…I am second guessing this whole thing. I — Stan? What if they don’t LIKE me? What if I’m too awkward…and curly…and mean and…Orange!?”
Stan laughed ( it was a beautiful laugh and smiled it was a beautiful smile, yeah, yeah, yeah, shut up Nina, we know slkhdad )
“It’s true…you are awkward, curly, mean and so, so ‘Orange’.”
He reassured, straightening out Kyle’s tie and massaging his shoulders soothingly.
His voice bore this same low, healing light and gentle, loving lull.
“But you’re also…super funny, ambitious, put-together, independent, awesome and…P e r f e c t. You’re frustratingly perfect at everything you do…Be it…acing college interviews or picking secret super best boyfriends.”
Stan nudged him suggestively with his elbow and wiggled his eyebrow at him -- recently pierced by Kenny, lovely, but a little crooked -- which, bless him, made Kyle laugh and relax a little.
“Harvard…They’d be lucky to have you….South Park is lucky to have you…I’m…lucky to have you.” “I’m usually pretty good at sharing but…Not You.” “You’ve just always been My Kyle Pile, you know? I guess…it just pissed me off that you were going to be Harvard’s Matthew comma, Broflovski, c o m m a Kyle.”
The warmth of Stan’s precious nickname for his super best boyfriend and the cold, stiffness of Kyle’s name as it appeared on his government documents was extremely stark and drastic.
Patting his shoulders once, Stan grasped Kyle’s hand with a soft sigh, squeezing slightly.
“But it was stupid and crazy of me to try and fuck with your college interview…because I could give you one hickey or one million from the top of your head down to your toes…and it wouldn’t matter. They’d still love you.”
He dropped Kyle’s hands …and his expression at the idea, voice quiet, shivering stupidly. “They’d…”
“Hey…H e y.”
Before Kyle lost Stan to his dark, depressing thoughts, he caught his SBF's face gently in his hands, rubbing circles into his cheeks with his index fingers fondly. “I love you, okay? So much.” Kyle pressed a kiss to his forehead, as easy as breathing.
That was not the difficult part. “I love you, B—”
This was.
He took a deep breath and focused hard like the small utterance of these four little letters was more nerve wracking to Kyle than his entire twenty page dossier of interview preparations.
“...B a b y.”
Kyle whipped his head away with his heart pounding, knowing that his face ‘looked like his hair’ when he got furious or flustered, as Stan had one time drunkenly, pointed out, but before he could undo the child lock and roll out the car window, the two excited hands of said Stan were excitedly thwarting and tickling Kyle’s shoulders as he peppered his flushed face with a tiny armada of happy kisses.
“AAAAAAAAAAH! YOU SAID IT!!!!!!” “That was so cuuuuuuute!~ MwahmwahmwamhmWAAAAAA”
Kyle squirmed in embarrassment like a feral cat caught in a rainstorm, completely crimson.
“Once, o n e time! ONE! I — Off, off, O F F ! Quit Stan-handling me!”
He protested poorly, attempting to cling to the mere vestiges of his aloof, unfeeling evil boy persona which was dissolving with every slight skate of Stan's sweet lips against his now salty, stress-induced, sweat-dampened skin.
But then...Stan didn't really care for dessert.
“And you know…”
Kyle mused, beneath his breath, whose sweetened undercurrent Stan's was now caught in...along with his attention. Which was nothing short of a miracle.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t give me a hickey…” He started with a purr.
“Just not up here.” Kyle ran Stan's fingertip over his neck lightly.
“Not…up…t-then…Wh--Where should I?” He looked…genuinely puzzled and eager to please.
Kyle attempted to elaborate.
“You know…Lower.”
Stan squinted. Bless him, again. And in several awkward motions, tried to fix the angle of his face.
“Low…Er? L-Lower like...an-angling my head further down like thi--this? L-Like…”
“Nooo. Like…” Kyle leaned in and every sugared, honeyed word tasted like delicious cherry candy to Stan.
“You can give me as many hickies as you want…just go…”
As Kyle’s lips ghosted over Stan’s temple, his hot breath chilling the myriad of metallic piercings in his ear, which was an echo chamber for Kyle’s beautiful voice, he took Stan’s rough hand and ran it softly down over the slender side of his own ribcage with a seductive slowness before finally settling his super best boyfriend's hand on his hip, which he held like it was his God Given Purpose in life.
“L o w e r.”
“OH.” Stan coughed so loudly and violently that he almost reached for Kyle’s inhaler. “O-Okie dokie!”
Thumbs up. Oh my god. Fucks sake. Could he be more desperate and pathetic?
Apparently he could as bargained ( badly ),
“Are…Are you sure you don’t want to re-reschedule your interview? I think that extra-curricular activity might need some rekiss, I-I mean, revis—“
Kyle laughed, shaking his head. But...if you looked closely enough, and Stan often did, you could see the oft scowling, misanthropic, miserable boy smile an equally rare and ravishing Kyle S m i l e.
“GoodBYE, Stan!”
“Byeeeeee, Kyle!”
“HYH.”
Kyle held up half a stolen heart…
...And before he drove away, Stan r e t u r n e d it.
“H Y H.”
#dont laugh at me i wrote this in like a couple hours#also i should start a TW on my account for 'stan being annoying'#tw stan being annoying#tw pep style dating and being a little spicy i guess#but mostly bc theyre abt to kill eachother all the time or kyle is#but also UR HONOR UR HONOR UR HONOOOOOR THEY ARE IN LOOOOOOVE#the hyh being their ily is very important to me#anyways they are very precious to me rip i hope u laugh hyh i think theyre so funny like smh boys embarrasing me!#also ALSO YES I THINK KYLE IS RORY GILMORE AND IS OBSESSED W GETTING INTO AN IVY#BECAUSE HE THINKS HE HAS TO AND HAS NO PURPOSE IF HE DOESNT#AND IT SCARES THE ACTUAL FUCK OUT OF STAN SO HE IS A MENACE TO SOCIETY ABT IT#BY SOCIETY I MEAN KYLE#kyles rizz at the bottom...ridiculous...help...like bestie u dont have to kill him oh my god#also kyle making stan use this english vocab...iconic behavior i luv them#stan vc Okie Dokie!#tears in my eyes#no rizz no ass no game
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