#fuck you i had a brain fart and acted on it
Text
Made VE in whatever Mirage's world thing is. They are basically the really strong kid who helps with things like, making and setting up stage props (for like, a school show or something), helping the P.E teacher put the more heavy things away, and also being a menace to them skittish bullies that would die on the spot is the strong kid was like "whatcha doing here?" But suprisingly they don't do any sports.
#oc#ultrakill#vsona#silly tag#looks skinny but can kick your ass#definitely would avoid Mirage#just like normal VE avoids V1 for most of the time#strong construction machine = strong helpful student#fuck you i had a brain fart and acted on it#no they won't wear a skirt#they'd rather run headfirst at V1 holding IV bags of fresh blood#aka die#there ain't nothing under there#but its a style choice#also looks like they got knee high boots >:³
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Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.
The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.
So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.
Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is 👑 anon available?
I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be 👑anon!
It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"
Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.
CW:NSFW
But Gaz? Oooh Gaz—
Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.
It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.
Only problem — you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.
Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?
You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.
When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.
It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.
You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).
You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.
Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.
You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.
Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.
Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.
You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."
Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"
"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."
"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."
"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.
When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.
He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.
"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.
"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.
But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.
You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.
You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.
Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.
His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.
"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"
One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.
"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"
"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."
You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.
"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."
"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.
"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.
Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.
#cod mw2#gnome correspondence#x reader#Gnome's Spittballs#trinkets from the hoard#male reader#top male reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x male reader#kyle gaz garrick x male reader#kyle gaz garrick#cod mlm#cod modern warfare#monster cod au#cod smut#cod x male reader
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Bullet train au tangerine x fem reader where lemon and tangerine partner up with two other siblings and this time instead of tangerine dying fem reader loses her brother and she’s devastated and he’s all im going to fuck this train up for hurting my girl. 🥺 some comfort from tangerine to reader as well please!!! Tangerine then acts soft towards the reader
hii!! I love it!! this turned out angsty and sad, I hope that’s okay. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
ace of hearts
tangerine x f reader
readers code name is ace, twin brother is spade
wc || 1k
warnings || quite sad, might be a little heavy for some. death of readers brother, mentions of blood
a/n || I had a complete brain fart, for some reason I thought the deck of cards were diamond, heart, spade and ace. turns out, it’s ACE OF (…) not the actual card name😭 I forgot about ‘clubs’ but we’re gonna pretend that ace is a name of card, okay? or that it has some deeper connection and meaning to her brother lmao
masterlist + rules
taglist
Everything seemed to fall apart the very second the bullet train travelled past Tokyo Station. Everything you thought was under control, seemed not to be.
Ever since then, it all felt like some kind of progressively sick game; it started with the disappearance of the briefcase, then the death of the son, which was later followed by unexpected fights with others who also wanted the case. Everything right down to the very moment when you hear the unnerving sound of a gunshot a couple carriages down.
You’ve heard many gunshots in your time, but none of them scared you the way this one did. There was this daunting feeling throughout the entirety of your bones that told you it was something different to the thousands before. Pushing past the twins, you dart through the aisles, bustling through the cascade of people that were running away from the noise in fear. Stumbling your way in, you see him. And your heart crumbles.
Falling to your knees beside your twin brother, clutching his stomach while you applied pressure directly over his wound, trying to keep the blood from pouring out. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re okay. It’s gonna be okay.” You say softly, your voice breaking as you look around with tear-filled eyes. “We’re gonna get some help, okay? It’s gonna be fine.” You assure him, but in actuality, you were reassuring yourself.
You hear a couple soft gasps from behind before feeling their presence join you shortly after. “What can we do? Quick.” Lemon says panicked, searching around for ways to keep the blood from gushing out.
“I don’t know.” You whisper, staring down at the painful expression that was spread across your brother Spade’s features.
“Where you going?” Lemon shouts, calling after Tangerine.
“To find the twat that did it.”
Turning your attention back to your best friend, your worried eyes darting over his face as you watched him attentively. Pushing a little harder over his wound when you notice his blood seep through the gaps in your hand. “It’s not working.” Your voice breaks as you quietly sob. “It’s not working— why isn’t it working?”
Lemon shimmies off his jacket and rolls it into a ball. “Count of three, we swap places. Okay? … one, two, three.” Sliding your hands away so that Lem could apply the pressure, you cup your hands around your brother's face to keep him calm. Staring down at him with eyes riddled with fear.
“You need to get off the train.” Spade says quietly, eyes fluttering as his head grew heavy in your hands.
“Not without you. We’re gonna get help... you’re gonna be okay.”
“No… please. Just leave me.” He sighs, holding into your hand that was resting against his face. Gripping you dearly as he looked up at you. “Please, you have to get out of here.”
“Just, no. We’re getting you off.” You say defiantly, holding his face stern to emphasise your words. “I can’t lose you… I won’t lose you.” Whispering in broken speech as you gaze down at his stomach.
“How is he?” Tangerine anxiously questions, rushing towards you as he shook off his now blood-splattered blazer. Lemon turns around to face him, slowly shaking his head with a pained smile.
“Just leave me here… please go…” His speech becomes slow and strained as his eyelids grow heavy. Fluttering every once in a while, until they didn’t.
“No.” You sob, softly shaking his head. “What you doing? Come on, that’s not funny.”
“Ace…” Tangerine says softly, kneeling beside you. Brushing slow circles over your lower back.
“He’s okay, he’s just resting his eyes.” You reply, your words coaxed in denial.
“Darling… he’s not.” Stroking higher up your back, gently urging you towards his embrace.
“He’s fine. Lem, what you doing? Put your hands back.” You heavily exhale, cupping back over his stomach. “Come on, he’s losing more blood.”
“Oh, honey,” Lemon says quietly, delicately removing your hands.
“We still have time.”
“We don’t, sweetheart.” Tangerine responds almost regretfully as he twists you around to face him. “He’s… gone.”
Whispering. “No.”
“I know.” His bottom lip hides a sympathetic wobble as he cradles your head, pulling you towards him. “I’m so sorry.”
It was at the moment when the fog cleared and you finally realised that you had in fact just lost your brother. Your other half. Sobbing into the Tangerine’s chest as he embraced you tighter, wrapping his arms around you as if his only goal was to shield and protect you.
“He didn’t want to do this job in the first place.” You wail into his shirt, sniffling as you pull away. “It’s all my fault… if I didn’t push him to say yes, he wouldn’t be dead. If I had just—“
Tangerine sadly shakes his head, his eyes darting across your saddened face. “No. Don’t say that.”
“It should’ve been me.” You whisper, wiping your snotty nose on the back of your hand. “… should’ve been me.”
He cups your face, clutching your cheeks for you to meet his eye-line. “Please don’t say that.” His words were stern yet tender.
“Come on love, we gotta get you off.” Lemon quietly adds, checking the time on his watch.
“I can’t leave him here.” Lacing your hand into your brother’s, holding him like you couldn’t let go.
“I know, I know.” Tangerine nods slowly, looking over your doleful face. “Lem’s arranging a pick up in Nagoya, aren’t ya?”
“Yeah sweet, we got some guys that are gonna pick us up.”
“I’m gonna— we’re gonna look after you, alright? It’s all sorted.”
“What about Spade? I can’t leave him.”
“Love, it’s sorted. We’ve got a plane arranged. Right?” Looking back at his brother to confirm. “Yeah, they’re gonna take us to the plane base, and then we see how it goes from there, alright?”
Turning around you avert your attention back to your brother's lifeless body, stroking his face. Mumbling. “Okay.”
hii, I won’t be doing a part 2 to this :( I wanted to keep it so the ending was how you wanted it to be. either reader joins the twins and they become a group of three, or the reader leaves the job entirely and moves abroad. I wanted it to be an up-in-the-air ending, hope that’s okay:)
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@tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @ch3rries-n-cream @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things
#tangerine#tangerine x reader#tangerine x fem!reader#tangerine x you#bullet train tangerine#tangerine and lemon#tangerine bullet train#tangerine fanfiction#lemon and tangerine#tangerine angst#tangerine imagine#tangerine blurb#tangerine comfort#tangerine x y/n
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Upon seeing the new ghost zombie skin I've drawn some angsty conclusions AND YOU ALL WILL HEAR ME OUT.
Ngl broskies, this one hurts me too FR FR. From the trailer it almost looks as if he's still sentient (I could be wrong but compared to the other zombies in the trailer he still acts very much like his human self) which makes sense with Simon's survival pattern in life. He's always the one that remains, the one that outlives everyone else, the man who neither himself or others can get rid of.
It's so tragic to think that beneath all the stuff the body undergoes when you get zombified, he's still there and he can see and feel everything but can't do anything to stop it. I think what hurts him the most is not just the fact that he's losing himself but that, like I said, yet again he's forced to outlive everyone.
Now, I don't know much about the codmw lore (AND BEFORE YOU COME HERE AND START FLEXING YOUR KNOWLEDGE, JUST KNOW IM NOT GONNA CHOOSE PEACE) but for what I know soap, in the original timeline, died and roach and a bunch of Simon's teammates too. With that in mind, I imagine that if he's a zombie and, taking a few creative liberties here, this zombie timeline could be placed a little bit before mw3 where everyone fucking expires then babyboy here is really going through it.
He's a monster now, and not in the "I feel like a monster because I think of myself that badly" no. He's quite literally a fucking rotting corpse walking and running around at full speed, body slamming the shit out of everyone. He has lost his friends, he has possibly had to watch that happen and once again, just like with his family, he couldn't do anything to prevent it and somehow ends up being the only survivor.
There's no amount of therapy that could ever fix that fucking shit bro, like he's doomed to real life plot armour where it doesn't work in his favour but instead just takes away everything and everyone he cares about. And now, even if he manages to gaslight himself into thinking he could make it work for once, that he could fr be happy with the next person that enters his life, he still wouldn't be able to be with them cause now he's a fucking zombie.
My brain likes to torture me with the thought that him retaining his self awareness and stuff wasn't on purpose and surely wasn't his choice, that the way the infection works on him is different. He feels so tired of dragging around his body and the mental tool it takes on him makes everything so hard. I could actually see him just deciding to cave in to the need of just...letting go, like to stop holding onto whatever is making him sentient and just kind of die inside his mind (?) Idk if it makes sense but since he can't physically die he would be content with just kind of switching himself off.
That's it. That's my painful brain fart for you to enjoy and suffer with. Unfortunately I can't pay for anyone's therapy, you are free to end my existence instead.
#zombie cod#zombie ghost#ghost cod#simon ghost riley headcanons#cod headcanons#call of duty#simon riley#call of duty modern warfare 2#codmw2#cod fandom#cod
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JK Seven MV making sketch BTB
Yay, the subs are back on. And I got to watch it and even understand what he was saying, lol.
Loved it.
I was just sitting here for the 12 minutes with a huge smile on my face.
Because JK is just so adorable. So genuine. So real.
He had the time of his life, and seeing that just made me happy.
Now let's talk about a few thing I took from the BTB, why don't we?
I think I'll start from the fun and make my way to the more serious.
Not too much went on really. It's mostly him enjoying himself.
Being his own chaotic loveable self.
Trying to keep his eye open with the water pouring down on him, lol.
Can you imagine just how much fun this all was for him, our daredevil?
Funny, just thought about it, but they didn't even talk to Hun Sohee. Not a word. She might as well not have been there. Now I understand that JK is the focus, it's his song, BTBs are about the members, but at the same time, she's a well known and loved Korean actress acting in his MV and not only don't we get to hear from her even once, we also don't really get to see interactions between him and her in the BTB. In a way it feels like they are trying to keep this distance - this is JK, he's singing Seven, he's shooting a MV, but he's disconnected from it. I'm not sure I'm being clear enough here.
Ok, so for example JK explains what the scenes are and says the word girlfriend, god forbid. We know y/ns went into a frenzy over this stupidity. JK explaining the concept of the scene in which he's fighting with his gf, cause that's what the MV is about, and she's his gf in the bloody MV.
But maybe, knowing this fandom, they wanted to keep the delusion to a minimum, not to mention keep Sohee away from the crazy ass fans that are already harassing her by just keeping her off camera as much as possible. Idk, just found it interesting.
JK tells us a little about his acting, lol.
To all those that are still riding the scripted fanservice bandwagon, time to fucking get off it.
Omg, the way he disses Yoongi, he just LOVES to do that with Yoongi. Now I can kind of understand the "even at 60 years old jeon jungkook will be freaking annoying".🤣🤣
JK is wearing THE brand again. I'm telling you folks, JM made a huge online order for the two of them!!
He's just so precious, with this thing he has of checking out his hands, every single time it feels like it's the first time he's seen them, lol. The fascination he had from his water wrinkled fingers. So endearing.
Looks at them in amazement, shows everyone, then back to looking at them again all fascinated.
You'd think the man has never in his lifetime taken a long shower or had a bath or been in the damn swimming pool. Nah, lol. It's just one of those cute loveable oddities of his.
Did we notice the ASSets?
And I thought JM was in charge of that body part in the family.
Well, apparently the competition is on.
Has JK surpASSed JM?
Should we progrASS? Oopsy...progress?
And now I will take a moment to breathe.
I went looking for more pics from the BTB and came across this:
I don't know enough about the movie but do we know of any kind of connection to Jikook? Or this could be the directors tribute to the movie too. In any case it's a fun tribute.
Now for the heavy stuff, or not so heavy just a little more on the serious side.
I wrote a long ass brain fart of a post yesterday. And some of it is very relevant here too.
JK clearly sees the song as a love song. Period.
He did the explicit version for the fun of it (well and also probably because the America market loves a song with profanities in it). But for him it's the fun of not being restricted by the Kpop rules of engagement, the "don't swear because the song will be censored" and "don't swear because it's too adult" or whatever other reasons for it. He's having fun feeling more freedom, and that he's all grown up and can say fucking multiple times out loud.
But when it comes down to it, when asked about it directly, his answer was that he prefers the clean version. Because to him Seven is a love song, not one about the physical act alone. Yes, of course sex is part of it (the song lyrics are kind of loud), but sex is not even half of what loving someone is all about.
We saw JK talking about the love of his life while explaining about the song.
Him in the BTB about the death scene:
And at the end of the BTB explaining more:
And we also have what he said in the interview aired earlier today on Z100 radio.
The more we get of JK talking about the song the clearer and louder it becomes. I just wish people would only be listening to him.
Anyway, the man is beautiful.
Love him.
Not as much as the love of his life does though.
No competition there!!
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The Dream - Chapter Twenty Nine + Epilogue.
The end is here, besties. A huge thank you as always for those who have stuck it out until the end and offered such kind words in the way of feedback. Huge love to you all. It was a challenge to write this as it’s very different from my usual offerings. I can only hope the bittersweet ending meets your expectations :)
Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three Twenty Four Twenty Five Twenty Six Twenty Seven Twenty Eight
Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed
Words - 4,186
Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!
His hand kept reaching into the space beside him on the pull out, vast in its emptiness, no small body curling against his, no warmth from her skin. He would never awake to find her using him as a pillow again, just like she had on his first morning there all those months ago. No little sleep snuffles, no morning kisses. No more shared dreams.
She really was gone.
His brain couldn’t quite absorb it, yet the shock kept on hitting him over and over, like the perpetual jab of a knife into his heart. It had all happened so fast. One minute she was there and the next... gone.
How precious and fragile life truly was.
Angel knew better than most that’s how death worked sometimes, too. There were no guarantees of notice given. Death did not call and tell you to mark a date in your calendar. It snatched people without warning.
It had done this to him twice now. First his mom, and now his love.
His eyes stung from crying, his heart completely shattered. He couldn’t believe it was real. He still expected her to walk back in from the kitchen and tell him to scoot over, or ask if he’d farted, slapping him if he revealed he had.
Why? Why her? She’d barely even begun to live her life before it had been snatched from her. Angel felt his throat tightening again as he thought of all the things she’d shared with him, everything she wanted to accomplish, all that he was looking forward to being proud of her for. What hit him the hardest, though, was that she’d died before he’d truly made it up to her, ironed out the crazy behaviour that had been driven by his insecurities.
He still owed her, and he could never repay it now, never show her he was worthy of her love, never prove himself. Stretching his arms above his head, his chest quivered on a sob, sniffing hard as his tears began to fall again. God, the loneliness. She’d only been gone for ten hours and twenty-three minutes, and yet he felt like he was being buried alive in the grief of losing her, how vacant he felt without her there.
He knew then he should have appreciated her more while he could and not acted like such an overgrown child at her being away, because at least she’d still been alive then. He’d now suffered the ultimate abandonment, and it wasn’t her fault or his, but fuck, how he wished he could turn back time. Just a little more time with her, just a day, an hour, a moment to hold her again.
“I love you so fuckin’ much,” he whispered into the dark of the living room. “Dunno how the fuck I’m meant to carry on without you.” The pain crashed through him, hitting him over and over as it swallowed him whole, Keri was dead... Keri was dead. He’d managed to stop his tears by the time the bedroom door opened, Frankie exiting quietly, coming over to sit on the edge of the pullout.
“Can’t sleep.”
“Me neither,” he confirmed.
She gestured to the space beside him. “Mind if I cuddle up? I get it, if you’d rather be alone.”
He snorted softly. “Course, I don’t. Get over here.” She climbed under the comforter, resting her head to his chest, his arm wrapping around her. He wasn’t the only one completely heartbroken. Hell, they’d had to sedate Meryl, she was so hysterical.
“This feels weird,” she muttered, tapping his chest gently with her splayed hand. “No boobies.”
He smiled, laughing softly through his nose, Frankie continuing. “It doesn’t feel real. Like, you’re here, so my brain by default thinks that she should be, too. I keep thinking the door is gonna open and there she’ll be, my little beets.”
“Yeah, yeah you ain’t the only one,” he began, hand stroking her arm idly. “Just feels like she’s in the next room.”
“Oh, you know about the poem?”
He frowned. “What?”
“Yeah, the poem about death, about it being like they’re in the next room,” she explained, sitting up a little. He still looked confused. “Pass me your phone, I’ll find it.” He reached for it, unlocking the screen and handing it to her, Frankie searching for the piece she’d always found so comforting during times of loss.
“Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you.
For an interval.
Somewhere. Very near.
Just around the corner.
All is well.”
“All ain’t well,” Angel grumbled, sighing. “I get what the dude who wrote it meant, though. But like, I ain’t in that place yet. Hurts too much.”
“Yeah,” Frankie sighed, closing the webpage and locking his phone, handing it back. “Yeah, it’s too raw right now, but the words are beautiful. I’ll come back to them again. Right now, I just want to go someplace quiet and scream about how fucking unfair it is, that I lost my bestest buddy in the entire world.
“Isn’t just me, though. You lost your girlfriend, Meryl and David lost their daughter, and so many other friends, too. Rachel couldn’t breathe when I called her earlier. It isn’t fair, Angel. She should be here with us and she isn’t! She’s all alone in a fucking morgue!”
He winced at those words, not wanting to imagine it. It had been painful enough when after the nurses had pulled all of her tubes out, he’d gone back into the room, kissing her head and stroking her hair as she’d lain there, statue still, her warmth beginning to fade. She’d looked like she was sleeping, like she was about to wake up and ask him why he was crying on her.
Having to say goodbye to her like that had killed him. At least, though, he’d gotten to hold her once last time in their final shared dream. That provided a tiny slither of comfort blanketing the sharp edge of pain, if only for a short time. Tightening his arm around Frankie as she began to sob, he lay there in quiet contemplation about those dreams he’d shared with her, so much more about them now making complete sense to him, now the story that was him and her had sadly come to an end.
“I saw her in a dream, just before she died.” He paused, swallowing hard. “I fell asleep for a few minutes, and we dreamed together. She told me she didn’t wanna go, but she had to. Knew it was her time and shit. I begged her not to, then I woke up and she was gone.”
A little exclamation fluttered over her lips, Frankie looking up, reaching to stroke his cheek. “Of course, she’d come and say goodbye to you. She loved you so much, you were so special to her.” She swallowed back the little stab of envy, that he’d gotten to say goodbye to her when she hadn’t, Frankie realising that it was probably hell for him, to realise he was going to lose her, for him to wake and find she’d died.
“Didn’t get to prove myself worthy of that love.”
“Hey, none of that,” she began, pointing a soft finger at him, tapping his chest. “You were the love of her life, alright? Remember that. Don’t let regrets eat you up inside.”
“Hmm.” She didn’t push him further on it, guessing he likely wouldn’t stop feeling guilty just because she’d told him not to. Humans were rarely so simple. “I dunno, like... fuck. I dunno.” They lay there in silence, eventually falling asleep, although it was fitful, waking up regularly, both deciding to get up and go for a cigarette on the firs escape, Frankie sitting between his legs, Angel resting her chin atop his head.
“I hate that I won’t see you anymore, now that she’s gone,” she spoke, Angel making a noise in his throat.
“Don’t talk shit, Frances. If you want, I’ll still come see y’all when I can. You guys are my friends too now. I don’t forget shit like that.” He took a long drag on his cigarette, watching at the sun began to fill the sky. “She’d like it, too. If we kept in touch.”
“Yeah, she would,” she confirmed, smiling softly. “We’re the links to her, you know? What Keri left with each of us lives on within us all, so staying connected means we have little connections to her, too.”
“That shit’s beautiful, bro.” He knew he wasn’t capable of articulating something like that, but it made sense to him all the same. He went for a shower soon after, getting dressed and heading over to Meryl and David’s place, the latter answering the door to him.
“Hey man.” He pulled him into a hug, slapping his back softly. “How you doing?”
“Bad,” Angel confirmed, closing the front door behind him. “How about you guys?”
David waited until there were in the kitchen before replying, switching the coffee machine on and pulling two cups from the cupboard. “It still don’t feel real. Meryl is just... shit. Beyond devastated. She’s still in bed, but she didn’t sleep. Just crying endlessly.”
“Yeah, I think I drifted off for like, a half hour. Frankie too. You’re right, it don’t feel real at all. Keep expecting her to just walk in like nothing is wrong.”
David smiled, a soft laugh bursting from his nose. “And tell us about one of her calamities, spilling something or the like.”
“Showing off on her snowboard and hurting herself,” Angel smiled, remembering carrying her after she’d done that very thing and sprained her ankle.
David’s voice broke on a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I never had my own kids, and I didn’t feel like I needed to once I’d met Meryl. Here they were, this ready-made family. I always thought of her as mine. Ain’t fair at all. I can’t get my head around it. Feels like I’m in someone else’s nightmare.”
“Same,” Angel spoke, taking the coffee David handed to him with thanks. He turned back to the coffee machine, a sudden burst of sunlight from behind the clouds making something glint upon the windowsill. Picking it up, he held the thick, silver band Keri wore on her thumb, squeezing it in his palm before handing it over to Angel.
“Here.” He placed it into his hand, smiling with a nod. “I think she’d want you to have this.”
Angel took it, pulling off the rings he wore on the fourth finger of his left hand, placing on the band and returning them atop it, his smile sad.
“Fitting place,” David nodded, leaning back against the counter, watching him look down at his hand.
“I would have, you know. Would’ve asked her to marry me at some point.” Just then, David glanced with surprise over his shoulder, Angel feeling a soft hand upon his arm. Turning, he saw devastation personified.
He swallowed a lump in his throat, his eyes softening. “I’m so sorry, Meryl.”
She let herself be pulled into a hug, wrapping her arms around him, steeling herself not to break down again and cry all over her daughter’s boyfriend. “Thank you. I am too, for you. I know how much you loved her.” Pausing, she leaned to kiss his cheek, straightening up, wiping her eyes with her thumb. “Thank you for making her last month's so happy.”
“It was an honour, getting to love your daughter. She was everything to me.”
Meryl nodded, her lip quivering. “I know, love. I know.”
Angel didn’t stay for long, David vowing to keep in touch with him over the funeral arrangements before he left, booking himself a flight and heading directly to the airport. All around, there were memories of her, remembering walking through with her either on his arrival or departure, the Starbucks where he’d made her laugh so much about her frappuccino, the places they’d stood holding one another tight, the spot where they’d first met.
It stung his heart so hard that it almost took his breath away. He felt like he was moving through clay as he checked in and then sat and waited, buying a coffee while he waited the near two hours before his flight would depart, scrolling through his phone at the hundreds of pictures of her, of them.
“I dunno what I’m meant to do without you, tiny.”
And the truth was, he really didn’t. It was a pain he knew he would never truly recover from.
Epilogue
The entire charter of the Santo Padre Mayans MC roaring into the cul-de-sac was quite a thing to behold, all dressed in black, parking up behind the black limousines that would usher the family over to the funeral home. One by one, each man greeted the assembled family, offering his condolences, the few who knew her a little better speaking of his fondness for Keri, Meryl and David so very touched by their words.
The sun shone brightly on that October morning, a warmth still lingering through the crisp, fall air, Angel watching as golden leaves shook themselves from the trees, a perfect one landing right in front of him upon the handlebars of his bike.
“Yeah, baby. I know that’s you.” Placing it carefully in his pocket, he took a deep breath, feeling a hand press to his shoulder.
“The family is ready, mijo,” Bishop told him, placing his helmet on. “You lead, though. She was your girl. It’s only right.”
Clasping him in a tight hug, he felt the love from his brother swell through the cold nothingness that had become of his broken heart, the sound of bike engines roaring back into life filling the air, the procession slowly moving forward behind him. It still hurt, the grief cutting at him like a razor, nine days passed since his beloved Keri had taken her last machine assisted breath, since the last time he’d felt the warmth of her skin next to his.
He felt glacial without the sunshine of her love, a freeze that likely wouldn’t ever thaw.
He was glad Meryl had chosen a closed casket, because he couldn’t bear to see her shuttered in death again. Kissing her goodbye at the hospital had all but killed his heart, Angel instead wanting his last memory of her to be of when he’d held her in his arms at the airport, her face so bright and excited as they’d spoken of their vacation. What he would have given to be preparing for it, the trip he’d cancelled four days ago when he’d finally been able to actually get out of bed and do something other than lie there, weighted down by the lonely blanket of grief.
Once at the funeral home, they were met by a couple more of Keri’s friends, Angel touched at the sight of Rachel rushing into Gilly’s open arms, Bishop wrapping Frankie into a huge hug, Jaime too, telling her he wished he was meeting the girl he’d heard so much about under happier circumstances. “You’re right, she does look like a mermaid.” he spoke softly, Angel smiling when he remembered the moment he’d heard Frankie liken her to one, on that first morning in Provo, meeting Keri in the flesh for the first time the night before.
What he’d give to go back, be on that pull-out bed with her, enjoying their first kisses all over again. The pain of never having that again burned through him, as he knew it always would. There would be no cease to his sorrow at losing her, his one true love.
Turning to him, Frankie and Jaime held out their hands, both flanking him either side as they walked into the funeral home, ready to say their last goodbye to the girl who meant so very much to each of them. He still couldn’t believe she was gone. The appearance of the white casket sealed it, though, Angel swallowing the lump in his throat, letting go of Frankie’s hand and wrapping a strong arm around her when she couldn’t keep the sob in, holding her tightly.
“Good morning, friends. We gather today to remember fondly the life of our darling Keri Jane Watkins, taken much too soon from everyone she loved so very much on the second of October, twenty eighteen. As I look around at a room so full, I certainly see how her kindness, brilliant spirit, and unrelenting zest for life touched so many, from her mother Meryl and stepfather David, who we give all of our love and light to at this time, to her beloved boyfriend Angel, whom she adored beyond measure. Her Aunt Bee and Uncle Sunni, her precious cousins, and not least, her treasured friends, Frankie, Jaime, Rachel, Ash and Aaron, the core group of her heart.”
The words used by the minister were a lovingly touching tribute, yet Angel couldn’t have remembered any of them if you’d paid him all the money in the world as he sat there, replaying every memory he had of his darling over and over in his head, thinking how tiny her casket looked, for someone who was so full of energy and life. He still couldn’t quite reconcile that she was really lying in there.
“She isn’t, man,” Aaron told him afterwards, Angel voicing that thought to him as they congregated outside. “That’s just her body. The Keri we know and love, she’s dancing around through the skies, seeing every last part of the world she said she was gonna see. She’s up in the stars, man, laughing, soaring. Free. Her body will join her when her ashes have been scattered, too.”
Meryl, David and Angel had all agreed that Keri would have hated to be put into the ground, all deciding to cremate her and scatter her ashes up in the mountains, so she would blow free into the wind, and travel wherever it took her.
Angel smiled, giving him a big hug, thanking him for such words. “She loved the hell outta you, you know.”
“I know,” he croaked, taking off his glasses to wipe his eyes. “I was so damned lucky to call that little calamity my friend.”
Lucky. That’s exactly what Angel had been, he realised, moving away to stand by himself, lighting up a cigarette. He was still lost in the fog of grief, so painfully lonely, he barely slept at night without her there, but he knew in his heart that he’d been the luckiest to call her his for the too short a time he’d had her. If he could hold onto anything, it was that.
In the months, and eventually years that followed, he was never quite the same, his loved ones all noted, those in Santo Padre and Utah, whom he had stayed in touch with. He’d welcomed other women into his life, but only at arm's length, never with any permanence, more a means to an end whenever his libido dictated to him that he should.
It never felt the same, though, and with each one that passed through his life, it only made him long for the one he could never be with again all the more. In the end, there were no more women, not wanting for them. Not for anyone but her. He’d spray her perfume onto his pillow, try and fool himself that she hadn’t really gone, abandoned in waking and dreams by his soulmate, hoping that wherever her spirit soared, she was happier than him.
He was simply lost without her, stumbling through what he thought was a living hell. That was, until hell came calling for him, for all of them, from the brothers who grew tired of the Santo Padre charter, literally battering down their gates to wage war upon them. He and his brothers put up a valiant fight from the safety of the clubhouse, he and EZ manning guns at the windows, his brother yelling every so often for Sharise to take cover, who wanted so badly to try and assist.
She hid behind the end of the bar, watching her husband and Angel firing all they could, until their rounds of ammo ran out, the brother’s exchanging looks, both then ducking the hail of gunfire that hit the front of the clubhouse. Angel, however, didn’t get out of the way in time.
Sharise watched his body drop to the floor, screaming in horror as she crawled out from her hiding place, scrambling to reach him, her knees and hands scuffed upon the floorboards. None of that mattered as she removed her top, pressing it to the wound in his chest.
“Angel, I got you. Stay with me,” she spoke, pressing down, turning to look at him with wide, urgent eyes. When she watched him cough out a mouthful of blood, just as EZ skidded to a halt and dropped to his knees at his side, she knew, looking down again to see a second hole, right above his heart. If it hadn’t been broken entirely two years before, the bullet that had entered his chest certainly finished the job off.
“Angel, you’re gonna be fine,” EZ spoke, knowing he was saying the words so he’d believe them more than anything, his beloved elder brother lying there dying, spluttering again. More blood.
“It’s... okay,” he croaked, a cold swirl chilling his bones, feeling it begin to pull at him. “Love you.” His eyes flitted to Sharise, the pain in his chest feeling like a weight of fire. “You too. Gonna go find...”
Sharise sobbed, nodding, grasping his hand as she bent to kiss his head, stroking his hair lovingly with her blood-soaked hand. “I love you, too. You go find her. It’s okay, you’ll be with her soon.” She looked over at EZ, sobbing chokingly as they both clung onto him, their tear-filled eyes the last things Angel saw before the pain burned to absolutely nothing, the vacuum of death yanking him away, the endless black void pulling him under, until there was nothing at all.
The nothingness swirled around him, Angel feeling as if he was falling, endless darkness swathing him, his consciousness muddled, messy, a sharp thought occurring to him; what if he didn’t deserve to follow where she had gone? His entire body suddenly jolted, a yank that took him downwards, descending, the nothing giving way suddenly.
He could hear the ocean.
Opening his eyes, he squinted slightly, everything so bright. Brilliant white surrounded him, the smell of saltwater and fresh linen filling his nose.
The white room. He’d made it.
Turning onto his side, he reached beneath the covers, her warmth right there next to him, where he’d craved it to be in the two long, lonely years without her. He pulled at the comforter, his heart mending itself in an instant to see those pretty hazel eyes looking back at him, her beautiful smile making her entire face glow.
She looked exactly as she had the first time he’d ever seen her.
Finally, he’d found her again.
Reaching for his face, Keri moved into the warmth of his arms, kissing him softly. “What was the last thing I told you?”
He beamed at her, the love he felt no longer a painful echo of loss. “That you loved me,” he stated, fingers entwining in her hair.
“And to look after yourself, and what do you go and do? Get shot and join me a mere two years later.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”
He laughed softly through his nose, kissing her again. “I wasn’t alive in those two years, mi amor. Only existing without you.”
She stroked his face, nuzzling him. “So, you missed me then?”
He held up a tiny gap between his thumb and forefinger, her laugh sparkling in his ears. “Just this much.”
Replicating, she mouthed the words back to him before he pulled her against him, turning onto his back, holding her tightly as they kissed. Death no longer mattered, and neither did leaving everything else behind. They’d found one another again, as they were always destined to. Their souls could rest now, there in the white room.
Forever.
The End.
#angel reyes#angel reyes fanfiction#angel reyes imagine#angel reyes x ofc#angel reyes fanfic#angel reyes fic#mayans mc#mayans mc fanfiction#mayans mc fanfic#mayans mc imagine#mayans mc smut#mayans mc fic
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≪ᖭི༏ᖫྀ≫ tags: quarterback!sukuna x f!reader + reader being bold n shit + sukuna being a poopy brain fart + suggestive + kissing + full blown sex + exhibitionism (bc public area ig) + dumbification(?) + i probably spelled some shit wrong but idc + imma stay ignorant lmao.
The immaculate spoonful of overconfidence you took suppressed your hunger for vengeance, it was evident in the way you strut towards the men's locker room—in the straightness of your back and the puff of your chest, even the typical skittish grin you casted was overshadowed by the resting bitch face you'd see in your average highschool clique in teenage movies. This look was a complete 180 but as soon as you rudely burst through the doors leading in the men's room, ready to give that inconsiderate scumbag a piece of your mind, it appeared that facade diminished when meeting the sight of Sukuna's godly physique.
His sharp jawline subtly darkened by the upcoming stubble resulting from forgetfulness, the defined and chiseled abs looking robust under the gleaming white light of the room, down to the patch of pubes and the clean V-line leading to what you can tell would be a blanket clencher (the outline through the towel gave you all you needed to know) -- Good Lord almighty.
Guess you needed more than a spoonful of overconfidence.
"Hell are you doing here...?" Fuck, his exhaustion mixed with his gruff voice was a harsh reminder of how this man was the recipe for seduction, almost made you forget the real reason why you came there.
Bringing up the little self-assurance you had left, you speak out. "I'm tired of you treating me like I'm not a grown ass woman, Sukuna." Ok, what else? "-belitting me, calling me names, borderline harassing me? This isn't high school!" There. What's said is said.
Sukuna's reaction to your outburst was by giving a brief stare before focusing on his hygiene, applying the Old Spice deodorant under his arms amid to your disbelief at his lack of interest. You can smell the potent fragrance whiff past your nose despite your distance.
"Is that all?" He asks. An absolute dick he is. You suck your teeth and steadily walk towards the enervated quarterback to his surprise at the sudden boldness, the sharp ruby eyes remained on you until his time to swiftly react comes. Ignoring the sneeze edging to come out due to his cologne, you point a finger to one of his pecs in attempts to intimidate him (if that's the word you wanna choose).
"Don't give me that shit. Can you even acknowledge my emotions? I'm being straightforward with how I feel and that's how you respond? I don't know why you're so popular, the whole University knows who you are! You act as though you're some demigod who shined upon earth but you're just... y-yet you're just-" Words stopped at the pit of your throat, so blinded by indignance but it wasn't until Sukuna gave you a faux sympathetic pout before enveloping you into his arms, heat of his chest warming your left cheek, you were shocked.
"Oh my poor, poor, princess, she's so blinded by fuming anger it even has her st-st-stuttering..!" He quips. His hold was so tight it almost seemed like he had no plans of letting go and it left you a flustered mess. Schooching your way out his grasp became futile so you had to resort to speaking up.
"Sukuna, get off of me." He hums in confusion.
"What was that? Thought you needed comfort after your cute rampage, do you not? Do you not like it when I hug you like this?"
You dismay your embarrassment and Sukuna's mischievious manner and speak up, surprised you've both been in the locker alone for so long, the idea of someone walking in started to plague your mind. "It's not that, someone can walk in at any moment."
"You didn't think of that before you came bursting in here, now didja?" You pathetically shake your head. "Thought not. And besides, you didn't deny the fact that you don't like me hugging you like this. Maybe this'll be a good time to make up for all the bad things I've done." From your waist to your neck, Sukuna's hands softly caressed you like he was your lover, his touch was addicting then he gradually cups your cheeks in the palm of his hands.
"Sukuna...?" His lips were hovering over yours, if he moved another centimeter he'd be giving you a deep kiss as of now, but that didn't happen. Instead, his lips glide down to the slope of your neck, his kisses were wet with the water from his shower, the shape of puckered lips then gifted you with kisses on your collarbone. You froze like a block of ice as he provided you with sensual affection like no other, then one thing lead to the next and you're pushed against the locker and your panties found way around your knees to favor the throbbing head of Sukuna's cock, already balls deep in your aching pussy.
You both reeked of sex emerging from your pores, Sukuna's shower be damned. Old Spice overpowered by must from sweat he was losing from fucking you silly. Every stroke emitted a hot gasp and whimper as hands fondled with your breasts. The wet slaps of both sexes disrespectfully hitting one another bounced across the room so cacophonously it's a miracle that nobody came to see what the ruckus was about.
"There we go, pretty girl, take my dick. Aww such a champ." Sukuna savored the way your ass rippled for him as he took you from the back. "Wish you could see how greedy this pussy is, swallowing me whole."
"All that pent up frustration all you needed was a good fuck, huh? Someone to fuck this cunt all sloppy til' ya head is all fuzzy? Ya' still hate me now..?" All that was uttered was your guttural moan revealing itself to Sukuna. Making you sound like a fucking idiot, a sound he was very much fond of.
Sukuna rewards you with a wet kiss on the cheek before hauling you up on his shoulder to take you to the shower, planning on resuming both your deeds in the semi-privacy behind the loose curtains. With that water running, it barely covers the sounds of sex from within but you guess it doesn't matter as long as you have Sukuna fucking you braindead <3
#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#jjk smut#sukuna scenarios#jjk imagines#jjk x reader#sukuna ryoumen smut#sukuna ryoumen x reader#𓂺 — you perv!#tw: dumbification
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im a dumbass and mixed up the fins on the sides of their heads i was picturing them with and their human ears lol my bad! lil bit of a brain fart there XD but youre right they would have internal ears. the fins act similar to a dog's ears in showing their emotions
i hadn't thought of dragons being able to track pieces of their hoard like that before but thats perfect omg i love it! especially with the ghosts record of getting into bullshit, they all need a goddamn gps tracking chip at this point. it also works as a fun plot point for whenever logan gets Yoinked by the federation >:3
most of hesh's scars are because logan dared him to do something stupid and he cant pass up a bet now can he? logan is a little smarter about that - but not by much.
squishing human elias is kind of a tradition at this point - even when they get older and bigger. (its the only way they can get revenge for the Pancaking). of course, he always finds a way to get back at them, because he is their dad and he knows them.
another fun image: you know how animals have that thing where their eyes glow in the dark when you shine a light on them? yeah, the dragons have that too. merrick is wandering the halls and sees glowing eyes, flicks the light on to find logan doing Some Shit, sighs, flicks the light off, and gets the fuck out of there. he doesnt get paid nearly enough to deal with this anymore.
-🐉
Okay okay lmao, I got real confused for a second and had to review my doodles wondering where I could add ears. Fins make a lot of sense, and I like the detail that they help with expression.
Hehehe, I am a certified genius. Elias got sick of his guys vanishing on him and worrying so he gave them "gifts" so he can find them at a moments notice lmao. Can't get rid of him now, fuckers.
And it does! I didn't think of that. Hesh just has a Sense of where Logan is so the Federation has to play keep-away.
Logan and Hesh's dumb hijinks being the reason Hesh looks battle-worn is hilarious.
Revenge for the pancaking!! The tables have tabled and turned! Constant game of squash.
HAH! He just turns the light off. Not dealing with it. He's so me. I propose that the eye-reflection is bright orange because well. Fire.
I have a lore/world question: Is it a modern setting or medieval one? A mix?
#call of duty#call of duty ghosts#elias walker#logan walker#hesh walker#thomas a merrick#beloved anon#🐉 anon
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"I hate having a crush."
🍄Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader
🍄short drabble about y/n having a crisis over passing by her crush.
**********************************🍄***********************************
You look behind you, staring at the glowing exit sign above the door. It seemed to be calling your name and you were so close to succumbing and running away like always.
You take a deep breath clutching the secured goods that need to go into the mailroom before closing time. But by the looks of it the mailroom will probably close before you even take your first step. You try thinking of another way you can get to the mail room. In your head you lay out the map of this maze like institution but there isn’t another route, going down the hallway of the east wing is the only way.
“Y/N you got this! don’t freak out,” you say to the endless versions of you that are making this extremely difficult as they bombard your already unhealthy brain with endless scenarios of what if’s.
What if you trip again, what if you fart, what if you freeze, etc.
Your phone vibrates and you sigh as you don’t even have to look at who’s calling to know that it was Lisa. She has called twice already to tell you to hurry up or she was going to leave without you.
You bite the inside of your cheek and look over at his direction. He was deep in conversation, his eyes were sparkling and his brows were slightly furrowed. His two co-workers seemed to be hanging off his every word as they nodded like puppets.
You just have to wonder why, out of all the space available in this place, today was the day he had to be standing adjacent to the door that you needed to go through.
“Ok,” you finally decide and start taking slow strides towards the white double doors at the end of the hall. Your eyes stay focused on the silver lettering above the door that said the mail department. Surprisingly the hallway was fairly empty and you couldn’t even hide behind anyone today.
You are getting closer to the double doors, his voice is becoming louder and your hands are getting sweatier. Please don't notice me, please don't notice me-
“Hi Y/N,” he says and you almost melt.
You freeze and you feel yourself going into overdrive, you're panicking but trying so hard to act normal in front of him. You turn slowly and smile awkwardly. Just say hey, iits going to be okay.
“ Hiii Toji,” you squeak in a high pitched voice that you swear the light twitches above you.
You don't even wait for their reaction or let what happened process it self. You just know that everything happened so fast after that and now you were inside the car almost crying.
“What happened?” Lisa asked concerned as she kept looking at you every time we stopped at a red light. You screamed and sunk in your seat wanting to disappear.
“I sounded like a fucking whale,”I whined and squeezed my eyes shut but opened them after a spit second as all I saw was his face.
Lisa looked at me and laughed hitting the steering wheel and accidentally beeping at the car in front of us.
“ I hate having a crush.”
🍄 Authors note: Lol don't know if I should continue itt!
#jjk fanfic#jjk drabbles#fushiguro x reader#fushiguro toji#toji fushiguro#toji drabbles#toji x reader#toji x y/n#jujustu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#fem reader#toji fic#toji x female reader#toji crush
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“Daisy get in here!”
She shuffles in with her tail between her legs. She’s been feeling me stew all day and knows she’s in trouble.
“Another good week Ms. Hannah…” she fiddles with her fingers.
“Don’t act stupid, you told Bambi we were sleeping together.”
“Well she’s been wanting to sleep with for a while, so when I got to I…”
“Shut up!”
She looks shocked, I would never have talked to her like that. Maybe not when she was a human but this stupid little secretary had to go and let herself be clowned. “Whu?” I can almost see her eyes sparkling with humanity, as if to finally see how out of hand we’d let all of this get.
“I didn’t ask for your idiotic point of view. Your loose lips caused Bambi a lot of pain today, and you discussed my personal life with a client. We don’t let these two things cross, so you understand?”
“It’s my personal life too…” she mumbles like a brat.
“No it’s not.” I say more hautily than I’m used to. “What I do with you is none of your business.”
She gawked at me. “How could you say that?”
“You’re my secretary, a piece of office equipment. You’re just a stapler I can fuck. You have no right airing my personal details to clients, or interfering with my clients the way you have.”
“Well I’m uh… I’m sorry Ms. Hannah.”
“On your knees.”
We’re both surprised by how easily she falls to her knees. She looked up at me with those big pliant eyes. I put my fingers through her green hair just like the fantasy I’d had that morning. I giggled excitedly just barely able to hold on to my dominating attitude. “Let me put you in your place.”
She was blushing, excited for whatever I had in store for her. Though she couldn’t have been expecting…
I pulled her head towards me, and turned around at the same time. I pressed her face into the butt of my pants, into my ass and…
Prrrrrrt!
I farted right in her face. She grumbled and n me ace pathetic little mewling sounds as my ass perfume filled her nose, burned her throat.
I couldn’t help but chuckle as she struggled to get away from my ass. Farts are just so funny, and it was even funnier that she was smelling mine!
Hehe Hyuk!
I took mercy on her after a few seconds in there and let her breath fresh air. She coughed even as I held her hair tight in my grip. “Get it? You’re a silly little fart toilet Daisy. People don’t want to hear gossip from a fart toilet.”
“Ooooooh”90 she was woozy fit to fall over.
I was giggling manically. “I still don’t think you get ,it fart for brains. Let me stuff your head a little bit more!” Laughing I pulled her face back into my ass and let it rip.
Pfffft prt pffffffffffffffftttttt!
I raised a leg like a peeing dog marking my territory and I guess I was!
I let her go and she fell back from my butt laughing. I looked at her closely as she laughed so her tears were streaming down her face. There was a sickly green gas leaking out her mouth, out her nose and ears
I smiled down at her. “Isn’t it funny we ever treated you as anything but a dumb little clown?”
She chuckled and goes to play with herself even as wisps of my fart still drift out of her empty head.
But I stop her, I grab her hand and pull her over to a mirror. She smiles at herself as I kiss her on the cheeks. “Look at yourself Daisy.” She does so. “Now cross your eyes, good, stick your tongue out, so cute, and give us a big smile.” She followed my introductions perfect making the face I’m the mirror look quite stupid. “Now look at yourself, that’s not a very smart looking girl is it?”
“No.” She giggled and shook her head.
“No it’s not, that’s the face of a dummy, an idiot, an imbecile. She a girl who looks like that be giving advice to any of my clients?”
She shook her head.
“No I don’t think so either. It doesn’t look like she’s thinking at all does it?”
She shook her head again.
“That’s because she’s not. I want you to stare at yourself in this mirror until this pose becomes comfortable for you, until it becomes second nature. This is the face you’ll make when you try to think of something that has nothing to do with your job, your eyes will cross, your tongue will drop out of your mouth, and you’ll smile. You’ll smile because you’ll have stopped thinking. Understand.”
“Yesh.” She tilted her head side to side like she was trying to understand how she could look so silly and dumb.
“Good, now bring your degree in on Monday, I have plans for it.” I went to leave my office, collecting my bag and everything. “You keep looking until you get it right, even when f it takes all weekend, but be sure to lock up when you leave! Love ya!”
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What's the thing about David Haydn-Jones? Is he going to have a role in TW? Does he know something about the show and leaked it? I'm searching some info about this but I can't find anything. Also, I can't find your post about Alma (personally, even if I'm a cockles truther, I don't believe Alma is Misha, but I'm curious about what you said)
I've never been on the Alma Is Misha train seriously either but I've followed it for fun and there was just a poem from someone else alma reposted about making your own world to not die in someone else's. It was just incredibly timely because yeah. That.
DHJ is on the list of actors that were called up a while ago and asked if they'd be interested for return. The general pitch is basically, well, there's like time travel and dimensions and stuff. Anyway, for some unearthly reason, Pat's been banging on this basic bullshit pretending it's super insane leaks verifying dramatic changes or some shit just because they did reshoots and he still doesn't fucking comprehend what those actually mean.
Hell I'm pretty sure even the note attached to my own draft left a lead in that quite literally said, "This is an example draft. Due to the placement, a variety of characters could fit in from time or dimension distortions, here's a shortlist of other suggestions." basically. Like this isn't the fucking rocket science he thinks it is. This man has no earthly comprehension what a good Treatment looks like so he’s been crapping his pants about “changes” that were already fucking prepared for as alternatives. You know who understands how to make good Treatments? The screenwriters and former showrunner (not of spn) in this fandom that are WAY above your paygrade dude.
The original project was 8-10 episodes miniseries with a few fractal potentials and presentations planned so no shit they're having to shift it around a little bit you fucking knobs. lmao you wanna know the real reason he kept saying 10 episodes at first, there you go. That's why he aimed for it in the commitment. SDKJFSDJFS gg pat since I know you still read my wall like a loser and by now 100% have had ghost or someone narc to you that I'm not fucking with you.
Anyway back to actual ask, basically, he's on the list of potential fan favorites being given opportunities to return. Exactly when and where is unclear. Especially since "when" is gonna be kinda multifaced in this.
Nothing actually meaningful leaked from DHJ is actually the point. Pat's been trying to act like he Knows Things because DHJ sharing vaguepitches and some tumblr anon fucking with him.
it’s not fucking rocket science. The show features the Men of Letters. What do you THINK he’s fucking there for. And do you think that entitles him to the full thing. seriously i’m. so done with pat’s 2 braincells farting garbage into the internet and labeling it Intel when they happen to rub together
mfers know for a god given fact I work with people who get onto CW shows and even have some damn good friend actors that started periscope streaming supernatural and yelling at me live for getting them into this hellhole, but he can’t wrap his fucking brain around the fact that maybe someone moved the bar on him while he wasn’t looking. Or his folks yelling U DONT KNOW BOBO BOBO DOESNT KNOW U AND WILL NEVER KNOW YOUR NAME and then shutting the fuck up when I drop them a video voicemail, “HIIIII MINNNNNN ITS BOBO~~~~ AT COMICON~~~~ WHY AREN’T YOU HERE?~~~~ HUH??~~~~” Fucking shit.
figure it out, douchebags.
same dumb motherfucker that’s spent years arguing with me that Corporate Things Aren’t Real Corporate Things Don’t Exist And Can’t Hurt him, constantly smashed in the face. Or arguing that Berens had no Destiel intent and actually shipped Wincest--he banged on that for YEARS not even knowing about what Bobo’s desk looked like or the entire motion of overwriting Bucklemming going on in the room with Dabb’s aid. Arguing certain shit doesn’t happen because he’s nobody while I’m like, sitting on an under the table recording of execs in burbank about another CW show but SURE FUCKING POP OFF DUDE.
You were wrong about the original ending, and paid 5K to be wrong about the omissions, and you were wrong about the pilot, but I’m very sure your magical anon that wasn’t there to save you from looking like an embarrassment then definitely has deep insights to production futures. You were wrong about Berens. Wrong about corporate. Wrong about who cut what lines to the point you were bitchslapped by actual direct sources in half a day. I have never seen a piece of shit be more consistently wrong and pretend he’s right. This is the biggest tryhard piece of shit I have EVER encountered. Holy. Fucking. Shit.
and damn I mean, I know people in this fandom overbloat their importance, or even low key media workers do. Mary Manchin argued about the goddamn market testing and said they don’t even do general SPN market testing when I had the goddamn receipts in my phone for years before we safely pushed it through debunker. Natalie Fisher took great confidence in her RL friendship with meredith to the point she argued with me in season 15 there was no confession scene. Jess from the Mary Sue, too. Like you people do not fucking understand how stupid this all looks. And patrick generally can’t even get at THAT level of fucking sources.
Genuinely funny they can’t figure out why I’ve been comfortable owning association with that market testing without fear WB will come after me to shake me down for whoever gave it to me. You haven’t thought that far yet, I guess. Probably because you never even comprehend this world turning around you, to think of that as a flag you should probably be pissing yourself about right now.
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brain fart for you give love a bad name part 2 (get ready for this dumpster fire, also i know p2 is already in the works but this had me GOING so i just thought id share)
it’s been 3 years, reader is in a super successful band, has songs on her first album abt eddie, groupie-ing and men being stupid. she’s won awards, headline huge venues, overnight success, baby girl is doing WELL
eddie is depressed, cannot get the reader out of his head for like, months. cant get the sad look on her face as she left out of his mind. still thinks abt her to this day, he’s stopped his endless whoring. his security guard is thankful
reader is now a certified man hater (as she should be), she’s in her girlboss era, shes punk as fuck
omg an award ceremony is approaching, best rock act, who will win🤨🤨🤨🤨 my girl does obv
eddie is in the crowd he’s like oh my god 🤤😮💨😵💫😭 it’s her 💔💔💔
she sees him and she’s like 😒😔😑🙄 but inside she’s still 🦋💕💗🧚🏼♀️
thats all ive got so far
im so sorry
i simply had to tell someone
btw youre actually an amazing writer i was so astounded when i saw that was your second fic.
cant wait to read p2, hope you’re doing well!!!!
i love this oh my god? i love the idea of reader becoming a badass rockstar and eddie watching her grow and become successful and he’s so proud but he’s also just desperate to get her back somehow but he knows how bad he fucked up and he doesn’t trust himself not to hurt her again even though she’s certifiably the love of his life? my baby needs therapy but it’s okay i can fix him <3
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[ LUXIEM 1ST ANNIVERSARY ] PART 2
In honor of Luxiem’s first anniversary, this is a sentence starter from this Vox Akuma VOD where they reminisce about old phrases they all have said in a game format. I’m taking both the phrases discussed specifically as well as other funny quips said during the stream. Content warning for mild language. Feel free to change pronouns if necessary.
“He’s preparing a feast for the eyes.”
“I just honk–”
“I turn into xQc when I’m drunk…”
“I just want a tiebreaker.”
“Farting in the Houses of Parliament should be allowed.”
“I’ve never heard this person say it but I know who it is.”
“I need to mega brain this.”
“I wanna give him an extra point just for that!!”
“He got style points.”
“Get in that chair, boy. I’m gonna start twerking.”
“It is a collab.”
“I’M TAKING THE BAIT!!!”
“All of the wise cracks and everything, [name] is giving us none of that because his raw concentration goes into his art.”
“Some letters are just impossible to draw with a mouse.”
“I keep on getting jebaited.”
“Half a sus.”
“Man, I hate being the host. I can’t draw amoguses.”
“Maybe I’ll treat you like my homework, slam you on the desk and do you all night.”
“How do you keep coming up with thess elaborate art pieces??”
“I think he’d make a great fun uncle one day.”
“Everyone knows about this. I regret it. I blame Hetalia and Tumblr. Let’s move on.”
“You may not repent for your sins. The internet is forever.”
“I definitely didn’t come up with this.”
“The slow fade in… Of the monkey…”
“I’m just a stupid boy and I’m learning.”
“I need the originator.”
“I don’t know if [name] is thinking or drawing or both at the same time.”
“I love that this implies he can’t do both.”
“He’s commissioning somebody to draw this for him.”
“There’s no way I could come up with something that hilarious on the fly.”
“Much to my dismay, I am cockless.”
“I had to restart my whole canvas. It was lagging.”
“This man is acting as though paint has layers.”
“This man needs to put his ambitions aside for the good of the game.”
“Oh yes, papi, skin me!”
“What does papi even mean??”
“It’s their equivalent of the word Daddy.”
“If this is me, I’m going to eat my own toes.”
“We pronounce it in the most dumb way you can imagine.”
“I reverted back to… My mind.”
“We gotta express ourselves through paint.”
“What we’re witnessing right now is [name]’s schizophrenia zone.”
“Wait— This is not what the Tactical Nuke icon looks like.”
“Is that a chair or is that a toilet??”
“If Santa isn’t real, who fucked my wife??”
“Aren’t you scared of some guy coming in your house??”
“No, because he was getting me a Nintendo.”
“He never gave me a loving family.”
“Do you need to have a conversation with somebody?? Are you ok??”
“I keep screaming but God won’t answer.”
“This sounds like Grade A dodging the question.”
“I mean, no one dodges better than [name].”
“I gotta fix my work real quick.”
“I literally found out recently why you can’t see Santa Claus.”
“He knows when you’re awake.”
“Is that your thought process??”
“Booba booba booba.”
“He’s forgetting his own history.”
“Burning hotter than YOUR MOM.”
“Is this a bait??”
“It’s always guys from Birmingham.”
“He’s very delicately flicking [name]’s hair.”
“It makes sense number-wise but in practicality not so much.”
“I mate sometimes. I’ll mate you.”
“OOOOOOH I thought it was talking about chess.”
“I’VE NEVER SEEN IT IN ENGLISH.”
“Lick me and let me explode inside your mouth.”
“I panicked and I gave you guys the answer.”
“READING A LINE FROM A GAME ISN’T MY QUOTE.”
“My people have a saying… Live laugh love.”
“Live laugh ligma.”
“You’re not doing the Krabby Patty thing.”
“WE’RE FROZEN!! THEY CAN’T SEE HOW DISAPPOINTED I AM!!”
“I’m so glad that I destroyed [name]’s mood.”
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Disclaimer: I do not own Frederick the great, Jacki, or the VN: Heart Hunted. Theeeey belong to @heart-hunted-vn ; who has been unfortunately cursed to see my 1 am unproof read cringe story and 8th grade fan art.
They’ve been at the amusement park for ten fucking hours. Fred’s battery had wobbled down to absolute zero and he was THIS close in carrying his companion like a potato sack towards the exit. Yet the last time he off handley mentioned this desired act, Daisy threatened with calling Jacki to join in their day out. The two together were an endless source of energy, seemingly recharging the other up. He swore you had to be twins separated at birth with some of the bullshit he had to put up with during communications on missions. You both always seemed to find how if one had an awful awful awful idea the other picked up on it without even speaking. Was down right freaky. Yet he had to assume this was something of the norm working in the field.
“Hey! Hey Freddy!”. Oh shit. He drifted off, disassociated himself. Daisy on the other hand, dragged them both to stand under a small food cart’s umbrella. Her face literally an inch from his, breasts pushed up against his sternum as her dark forest eyes gleamed with concern, her hands had fortunately wandered a way to his jean’s back pockets. Was it to keep them warm, he didn’t know, his brain was just fried right now.
Frederick, you ok?”, she tilted her head, a pout resting on her lips. This was a date, or she thought it was a date, better have been a date. Couldn’t be too sure as Fred always seemed to have some sort of work related excuse when she would ask, or his sarcasm reached such depths that she had to quickly text Jacki to ask about Freddy lingo and if she royally screwed up somehow.
Fred gave a sigh before slowly rolling his neck, one hand placed at the base. His body was rigidly relaxed (was that even possible?) as he felt the push of Daisy’s chest with each breath she took. He cleared his throat, refusing to make eye contact with her. Daisy gave a defeated huff. Hands extracting themselves from his back pockets as she stepped back. Ok. So. She misinterpreted.
Fuck.
She thought they were having fun. They drove together early in the morning to the park, Fred being nice enough to take her to breakfast at a small mom and pop shop on the way to their destination. Daisy spoke to Fred excitingly over bacon and eggs, asking him questions about his life, hometown, and family, while she would interject her own experiences of growing up. He seemed well interested about her, their chatter not once lingering in an awkward moment. When they arrived at the theme park, they rode every roller coaster, he had even won her a polished snake, Fred even cracked a joke that made her snort with laughter. She died a little on the inside when that happened. Hell! He ate some fries off her plate when they decided lunch at the parks burger spot, though she almost tackled him when he held her wrist to try some of her ice cream. Thought she would have to call 911 with how red her face burned. Maybe. He was just being friendly? I mean overtly friendly at best. Was he playing her? No, Fred was always a brutally straight forward guy, this was very unlikely.
Daisy shook her head another huff of air leaving her lips. There was no point in wondering, even if she prayed for best case scenario. This was teaming up to be another incident of pushing into romance too quickly. Something that her mentor, Jacki, warned her about. Repeatedly teaching her that something like that could end up being dangerous for everybody. He’d be very disappointed in her right now. Closing her eyes, Daisy had decided to bite the bullet and end this obvious awkwardness that developed between them.
“Look Fred, I’m sorry if I came on too stro-“.
“Daisy. Stop. I really like you”.
Well. Brain fart. Any words she conjugated together for embracing a bitter end to the day just died in her throat. He liked her?
“Daisy I really want to lie down”, Fred ran his fingers through his hair, energy now completely zapped, “Go to a hotel at least. We’ve been here since 10 this morning. For Gods sake woman it’s 2 am and we’re going on ‘Shiekra’ for a fifth time!”
Daisy puffed her cheeks in embarrassment, “I really like this ride though”. Fred groaned, one of his hands reaching out to grasp hers. “It’ll be here next time we come back”, freakin boundless energy this one.
“Next time?”, she asked softly, questioningly while she intertwined their fingers together as they began their trek back to the car. She wasn’t sure if she should get her hopes up at the thought, but she crossed her fingers none the less. Fred tugged her closer to his side, eyebrows furrowed in concentration so to not end up on the other side of the park again. Of course he was going to bring her back. At some point he thought this work crush was only one sided, nice to know it wasn’t.
“Yea next time”, a yawn escaped, the cheerful screams and talks of the people around him fading out slowly. “I took a couple of days off, so either here or anywhere really”. Daisy smiled, her eyes catching Fred’s in a brief moment before she walked in front, tugging his frame towards the park exit.
“Well lucky for you. I know this great pizza place in town”
“Not this again woman. You’re not converting me to pizza”
“Well burgers ain’t everything Frederick and you have yet to prove me otherwise”, she stuck her tongue out in defiance, Fred rolled his eyes in response.
“Your tastebuds are just shit”
“Well I like you. Does that mean you’re shit?”
“Daisy. No”.
My medication is making me woozy ( ꒪Д꒪)ノ. Truly hoping I didn’t bug her anything/anyone >.>
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when we the poors write about fictional rich people i think there is an important aspect of their character that we often leave out.
it isn't empathy or generosity bc they do not have those. no, it's their absolutely buckwild, thoroughly pointless business startups that go nowhere but bc they've hoarded so much wealth it does not matter if it is fully the dumbassingest shit on the planet.
the richest person that i had the misfortune to interact with irl was this super racist white girl whose parents used their inherited wealth to buy and flip commercial real estate. smack in the middle of the great recession (2008), she told me that her mother had gifted her one of her empty office properties and she was going to use it to start
a pet reiki business.
in which she, a deeply, deeply racist white girl who had stopped going to psychotherapy in favor of reiki administered by yet more white people, was going to practice reiki energy healing on people's
pets.
she presented this idea to me basically to feel me out about whether or not people from my income bracket (peasants) would find this a valuable service in a collapsing economy and was genuinely Shocked when i suggested that, nah man, i didn't really feel like i was in a financially viable position to spend $200 for her to wave her hands over my cats. like, it blew her fucking mind apart that this was a) not affordable for most people and b) stupid!
basically what i'm saying is when writing rich people in your fiction please i beg you give them just the worst business ventures. they have so much money that they are able to act on every fart of an idea that whiffs through their brain and they do.
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TOM CARDY SONGS PT.2
Lyrics from Tom Cardy’s songs. Change however you like.
“I don't really care so I'm checking it once.”
“Pretty fucking funny but also pretty naughty.”
“I'm the big boy, so I decidе, baby.”
“It mеans that I don't have to deliver shit!”
“Hey, _______, do you have a moment?”
“Oh, hello ________ back so soon from your court-mandated coffee break, you Marxist fuck?”
“I can do whatever I want, I'm ________, baby!”
“Oh, now you're strongly advising me, are you?”
“All through the year, I've been watching you, while you've been asleep, while you've been awake.”
"You spend your time inside drinking red wine and masturbating?”
“I couldn't give a fuck and you can check on that twice.”
“Hey, I don't work here!”
“Hey, I don't work here, but maybe I should!”
“Silly me! I've had the pasta all along, fuck you!”
“I made a middle-aged woman cry today!”
"You gotta save my kid!"
“But he rolls his eyes so I kind of snap.”
“That way I could help relieve that nasty sting for you.”
“It seems there's been a planned attack.”
"Ok, I don't, let me find someone alright? Just relax!"
"Hey! I-I said - ok. We're under attack!"
"Ok, I don't have the authority to do that."
“It's been a long day so I speak for us all.”
“Hey, I don't work here! And if I did, I would not surrender shit!”
“Do you think the president of Earth has a fucking mullet?”
“Take 10 minutes to call your mother.”
“A text is not enough.”
“I'm telling you to facetime that hot bitch.”
“It's called empathy. Use it once in a while, you dumbfuck.”
“You've got the power to be a massive sick cunt.”
“But you haters bеtter not act surprised!”
“Haters gonna hate when you're hashtag inspirational!”
“Don't be distracted by the emojis that I'm using.”
“Listen to your heart, when your brain does a fart out its asshole, that's your soul.”
“Isn't that like a pyramid scheme? “
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