(100 years later I finally got to your prompt, mac-noa ! I wasn’t explicitly lovey dovey bc I didn’t want to be ooc and it’s only actually from Matt’s POV, but I hope it works for you!!!)
Matt and Dan walk in late, strung together by the hands, still flushed from kissing in the car pre-practice. They go sheepish when they see the unimpressed look on Wymack’s face. Renee smiles brightly at them and Allison gives them a brisk nod, but the monsters are in more disarray than usual. Bits and pieces of their group are missing, and it leaves Matt with the peculiar feeling of looking at a familiar photograph that suddenly has the faces scratched out.
Their ringleader is absent, for starters, couch conspicuously empty beside Kevin — who looks unmoved and stoic and nauseated as usual.
It’s not unusual for Andrew to do things just because it’s inconvenient for others, but it’s a little weird for Neil to skip out as well. It’s a lot weird that he’s late at the same time as Andrew when Exy hangs in the balance.
Any association between them feels like something Matt has to fix, like he set something bad in motion by meeting Neil later than Andrew did in the fall. They’re probably off having one of their weird, close, angry looking conversations that always end in agreements Matt doesn’t understand.
Wymack waits thirty seconds past Matt and Dan’s arrival, and then he looks at the couch like it’s causing him pain, and starts delegating tasks for the day. He only asks once where the missing links are and there’s a lot of shrugging and staring straight ahead before he gives up.
They’re less rowdy than usual, and Matt thinks they’re all individually trying to solve Neil and Andrew’s absence in their heads. (As soon as they get up to move to the court, Allison starts whispering numbers for their betting pool until Dan bats her away.)
Matt squeezes Dan’s hand until she looks at him, and they have a brief conversation in smothered smiles.
They split up to change, and Matt straps into his gear feeling vaguely ill at ease. He keeps glancing at the door between straps and tugs of his uniform, and he notices Nicky doing the same thing. He smiles awkwardly when Matt catches him, and Matt feels a rare pulse of kinship for him. Both Andrew’s lot and the upperclassmen seem equally confused, so they have something in common for once.
The strange feeling follows Matt all the way to the court and through the first set of drills before Neil finally shows up, looking harried and flushed and all sorts of things Matt doesn’t usually associate with Neil.
He pushes into the court straight past Wymack’s blustering reprimand, and Matt catches the tail end of a flippant apology before Neil’s sprinting to centre court.
Matt stares at him. Neil waits, twisting his racquet in his hand, shoulders tense like he expects someone to toss him into the gameplay by force.
“What?” Neil asks, annoyed.
“You’re late,” Matt says stupidly.
“Twenty minutes late,” Kevin interrupts. “Almost like you’re trying to get worse.”
“He was with me,” Andrew says suddenly, breezing past them towards goal looking impossible to have spent twenty straight minutes with. Neil sort of jolts at the sound of his voice, and Matt eyes him narrowly.
so i think about Soul a lot, ergo I think about the GIANT ABDOMINAL INJURY he acquired and how it would probably take at LEAST a month of intense home care and frequent check ups to make sure the paper cut that expands half his body isnt getting infected or creating scar tissue that might impede the function of some of his more important organs (cough HIS HEART cough) and how simple tasks like bending over or running would become 40% more painful and difficult to pull off
and how much more domestic help he’ll need from his partner
More fic written without a prompt. That’s just how it goes sometimes, ahahahahah!
Master Anck'Su Namun looks up from her datapad at the sound of footsteps and the telltale sound of a cane made of gimer. Her orange lekku twitches—the only outward signs of her surprise—at the sight of Master Yoda and Master Windu heading toward her.
A quick glance around the room confirms her thoughts: there is no one else in the reading hall at the moment, so they must be heading her way. However, she cannot for the life of her think of a reason for why the two Masters would want to speak with her.
Of all the qualities she’d never expected her dorky spazz of a partner to have, patience was among the top ten — maybe even the top five.
And yet here they were, sitting on stakeout and Chat had been stone-still for — she glanced at her communicator’s clock — ten minutes and counting, and she could count on her fingers the number of times he’d blinked while he watched the entrance of the building.
Just as she finished thinking that, Chat shifted, rolling in his crouch and blinking hard a couple of times before settling right back down.
“How do you do that?” burst out of her after watching him do exactly that for the past two hours.
Chat, the asshole, barely flinched. “…Do what?”
Ladybug sprawled, her legs aching from the half hour she’d tried to copy him, feeling distinctly ungraceful next to Chat’s compact, inhumanly balanced pose.
“That. Sit so still. For so long. Don’t you get itchy?”
He looked away from the doors to look at her, amused. “It’s called having patience.”
Not that you’d know.
“Ugh,” she responded eloquently, laying down flat on the gravel roof and staring up at the clear blue sky.
“One of us has to have it,” he pointed out, dry, and went back to watching the doors with a smile on his face. “How else would we survive stakeouts?”
“Well, yeah,” she said, squinting at the barely-visible moon, “but why you?”
“Oh, well, you know,” he said just teasingly enough to make her look up. When she did, his smile was… soft. “I have a lot of practice.”
The implication wasn’t quite clear enough to put words to, but plenty clear enough to make her blush.
“Oh,” she said, and wondered why her mouth was tingling almost as badly as her cheeks were.
When I was twelve years old I peeped into a girl’s window
for the first and last time.
I lived in a pretty boisterous area of town, not too far
away from the nearby college. Right down the street was a house leased to a
group of maybe five to six girls. The neighborhood didn’t mind them, they
didn’t have crazy parties or trash the place. In fact one of them had a habit
of bringing my mom cookies, as a thank you for being so welcoming to the area.
It’s how my brother Elliot got the idea in the first place.
Carla was honestly really nice. Had a great smile, always
had a joke to crack, and was even nice to me. However, Elliot had a different
thought process, having two years of age on me and a little less respect.
Yall niggas were either quiet or defending kodak itchy looking ass when he talked about how he don’t like black girls but yall BIG MAD that Rihanna didn’t get with a black guy like… yall niggas hilarious lol
GOT7 x SUPERNATURAL AU PAIRING: Eventually Jackson/OC WORDS: 2600+ Summary: A hard working waitress spends her days working at a diner just to makes ends meet. Until one night on her shift, a sketchy character strolled in and slowly her life gets flipped upside down with the unexpected.
Jackson grunted as he drove over a bump in the road. He felt an irritated throbbing sensation on the left side of his body. He looked down and examined his cuts. His side wound was currently being compressed with an old t-shirt that they found in the back seat of their car.
The bleeding had stopped but it definitely needed attention. He glanced over to the passenger side and checked if Mark was okay. Physically, he looked worn out, and he could see the bruising already forming on his face, but he’ll live.
Bambam was probably wondering what was taking them so long. They got a call from their friend, Garth, a few days ago that there was a case not too far from them and if they wanted to check it out. They were told that a spirit of a deceased father had not moved on after his death and was still terrorizing his family members. The job was only supposed to be an in and out situation. They were supposed to go in, salt and burn the body, and be done with it.
However, something unexpected had happened. The spirit had manifested into a poltergeist, and although they still had to salt and burn the remains, they had more of a challenge considering they aren’t visibly seen and was strong enough to telekinetically pin them behind a large china cabinet as if they were nothing. The large gash on his side was from being thrown aside like a rag doll out the window.
The sound of Foghat’s Slow Ride was quietly playing in the car. Jackson was never one for 80’s hair rock, but it was something Mark had to listen to after a hunt to calm him down. He never really questioned it. Everyone has their own way to relax and ground themselves after a hunt. Jackson’s way to unwind was to go to the nearest dive bar for a few cold beers, a greasy bacon cheeseburger with pickles, and then taking home the hot waitress. Then it’s on to the next case, doing what they did best. This was the life – saving people, hunting things.
Summary: Phil brings home a cat boy named Dan with matted fur and wary eyes on a Wednesday. Wordcount: 3.1k Warnings: past abuse Beta: legendarygalaxydragon Prompt: neko!dan was abused by his previous owner, so when Phil buys him he’s really nervous, and calls Phil master. He is perfectly obedient and flips out (like falls to his knees and starts crying and begging for forgiveness and for Phil not to hurt him or kick him out) when he does something wrong. (Kinda angsty but also fluff and happy ending please) A/N: Hope you enjoy. :) x
Phil brings Dan home from the local shelter on a Wednesday. The brown fur on his ears and tale is matte, and he keeps his head down at all times from the moment Phil first lays eyes on him.