#justakidfromhellskitchen

(I picked just one of the two but heeeey also tagging @chasertiff & @cxrlando for the boys)

Adam sat on the edge of the porch, staring down at the top of Ronan’s head. There was a mostly dried collection of… he didn’t even know what. It looked like it could have been offal, but how it would get to Ronan’s head, he had no idea.

“What were you doing?”

“It’s Opal’s fault.”

“You can’t just blame her if you don’t know.”

“It’s almost always her fault, so my point is valid.”

Adam sighed and reached for the towel that was draped over the edge of the bucket. Inside was a mix of warm water and some of his shampoo. “Why didn’t you do something when it was still fresh? It would have washed off easier.”

He shrugged, careless, watching a bug crawl over the toe of his boot. “I was busy.”

Adam sighed and wrung out the towel. “Lean your head forward,” he instructed, pushing at the base of Ronan’s skull with the tips of his fingers.

The head tilted forward easily, Ronan always giving in to Adam’s hands.

He started behind one ear, moving the towel in gentle circles and sloughing water across the skin with little to no care for the way it dripped everywhere. Ronan twitched and rolled his shoulders, trying to escape beads of water undoubtedly trickling down his spine, but he didn’t say anything so Adam ignored it.

“It’s caked on,” he grumbled, scrubbing with a bit more force to Ronan’s head. “What the actual fuck.”

“I don’t know.”

“The hell you don’t. You don’t even have hair, and yet...” Still, he didn’t push the topic. He set aside the towel and switched to his hands, picking at the bits that looked like scabs and prodding across the surface of the skull. “You’re not injured under all this mess, are you?”

“It doesn’t hurt, if that’s what you’re asking.”

It wasn’t, but that was probably as close to an answer as he was going to get. He had too many questions and not enough words for them. He could always ask Cabeswater later -- make sure that Ronan and Opal hadn’t gotten into trouble.

Well, any more trouble than usual.

Ronan hummed in amusement, his eyes closed against Adam’s touch.

Annoyed, Adam gave his head a bit more of a forceful shove then he should have, and it brought out a cackle from the man before him. “Did you do this on purpose?”

“I didn’t.” He smirked, one eye cracking open to cast a sideways glance up at Adam. “Even if you don’t believe me.”

“Hm.” Adam shifted up to lean forward, scrubbing down over Ronan’s brow.

Ronan reached up and caught his arm and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin. “Let me know the next time you want to wash your hair. I’ll return the favor.”

“How, by dumping a bucket of waste over my head?”

When Ronan laughed, Adam could feel it from where he leaned against his back. A rumble in his chest, sharp and harsh, just like the rest of him. “I hope not.”

Nuuuuuuuuu that’s so fucking annoying.

39. Favorite villain?

idk if I’d say he’s my favorite but Mr. Wednesday from American Gods is an incredible antagonist fight me (tho I could also say The Insidious Humdrum from Carry On, simply because of the name, I mean)

40. Has there ever been a book you wish you could un-read?

D: Why anxiety???

Isn’t that always the question though? 

Well, I’m glad they at least agree on some things…

I’m just glad it’s not like last June when Myrkul and Sebastian were like “okay listen: emotional upheaval, just deal with it” because man that was rough

Pick a number and a pairing and I’ll write you a drabble

47 - “No one needs to know.”

It’s dark outside, New York mostly asleep in the hot summer night. Wesley is not panicking because Wesley doesn’t do panic. Sure he might be a little… uncomfortable. No, that’s a lie. He’s actually very comfortable lying in Matt’s bed, one arm around Matt while Matt’s head rests on Wesley’s chest. This is his favorite way to spend nights.

So not panicking, not uncomfortable, and certainly not nervous, not at all.

“You can say no, Wesley, it’s ok.” Matt presses a kiss to his heart. “And even if you said yes, no one needs to know.”

Wesley looks down at Matt, watches him for a long, silent moment. “I didn’t say no.”

Matt lifts his head and stares somewhere over Wesley’s right ear.

“And I don’t care who knows. My answer is yes, Matthew. Yes I will.”

justakidfromhellskitchen, the other part!

1. “Come over here and make me.

-----

“You’re not going out tonight,” Wesley says.

It’s not a question, laced with incredulity or pleading, the way it is when Foggy says it. It’s not a demand, either.

He says it like it’s fact. Your dad was a boxer, you’re a lawyer, we have really great sex every other week or so, you’re not going out tonight.

Matt is shirtless and already halfway into the suit, and there’s someone crying three blocks away but he’s pretty sure they’re just reading something incredibly sad, and it’s Wednesday. He always goes out on Wednesdays.

“Take off the suit, Matthew.”

“Come over here,” he says with a slowly spreading grin, “and make me.”

For a moment he regrets not being able appreciate the visual of Wesley stalking across the room, but that doesn’t last very long at all. 

-----

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Matt steps closer, and smiles a devil’s grin as he leans into Wesley’s space. He’s close, too close. Wesley can feel the warmth of Matt’s skin through the thin layers of cotton between them, and he breathes in the scent of vanilla, cedrus, and something uniquely Matthew. 

Wesley’s mental faculties promptly begins to shut down as all of his blood rushes south.He takes half a step back, the back of his legs catching on the edge of the desk behind him. Wesley barely stops himself from falling as one hand flies down for balance.

“I…” Wesley replies intelligently, “You’re blind.”