Transcript:

Machine, you are telling me a shrimp fried this rice?

Audio Source

YO YO WAIT! WAIT HOLD UP WAIT!

Hear me out on this as we delve into the realm of: I’m probably reading too much into it but imma gush anyways, because, BITCHES, I just had a revelation!

Said revelation has to do w/ Lucifer and him wearing his waistcoat. Just like— hear me out on this one.

Throughout the show, it feels like when he wears it, he’s like… not in a good mental state and/or putting on a show.

Don’t believe me? Alright then.

When we first meet Lucifer, he’s holed up in his office, DEEP in depression, making a shit ton of rubber ducks and freaking out. Then he goes to the hotel and the ENTIRE RIME is showboating and acting over the top trying to prove himself and not being honest about what his real problem w/ Charlie talking to Heaven is. Not a good mental state. AND the whole time he’s got his waistcoat. Even when he’s alone in his room.

THEN, we see him again in the battle where he’s come to defend his honour as King. So like, obvs he’s gonna have it he has a persona to maintain. But ALSO he’s fighting the man directly associated w/ his Fall, and by association the GUILT he has about his fall. So he probably wasn’t feeling too great THEN either. Was also wearing his waistcoat.

But after the battle (masterless cattle— sorry) Lucifer is… happier. He made it, he made a difference and now he’s here to help pick his daughter up and support her. They just won a battle against the angels and his child is happy that he’s there. Even in the wake of the destruction, he’s a pretty happy guy. No waistcoat.

WHY is this important you ask? WELL! It uh… it’s not. I just thought it was cool. But ALSO it allows me to make some grasping at straws theories and/or headcanons about his relationship with Lilith, and when exactly that (allegedly) began to fall apart.

These are photos from when Charlie was little. Lucifer is NOT wearing his jacket. The family looks happy, Luci is in a good mental place, they are out and about and enjoying life. Life is GOOD.

THESE are family photos of when Charlie was in her teens. And yes, I understand they are posing as the royal family here, but it’s also the ONLY pictures he has that we see of them together during this stage of Charlie’s life. He IS wearing his waistcoat. So, my grasping at straws ass is going to take THIS as the indication that things aren’t exactly alright on the home front OR in Lucifer’s head. The smiles are big and fake and don’t quite feel real.

So like… idk, I guess I’m just saying that I think it’s cool some things may allude to incidents in the past, and how we got to where we are today. How Luci is alone, and Lily is in Heaven. Again, IT’S PROBABLY NOT ACTUALLY THIS DEEP! But I can pretend okay 😭😭

AHH Hello!!! I absolutely love your writing, it’s so good!!!!

I was wondering…

Y/n always wear a mask to conceal her identity, in hopes the 141 doesn’t find out that Makarov is her father!!

141 had captured Makarov for interrogation, and y/n is there. As the interrogation continues, they start to notice that y/n and Makarov know each other, by the subtle little informality they spoke to one another. And the truth starts to come out, little by little!!!!

✎ tysm i love you :(( i absolutely love this idea the angst potential is just *chef's kiss* i'm sorry this one took like over a month to make oops, also i tried to keep personal details abt the reader as vague as possible, pls let me know if there's something i can fix!!

✎ tags: female reader, military reader, major daddy issues, violence, mentions of blood, hurt/barely any comfort if at all, not proofread im too cool for that,

✎ word count: 2,704

the silence in the cold, gray interrogation room was so thick that you were choking on it. you knew you had just fucked up, badly.

you had done so well so far, too. you're fabricated identity had fooled everyone. the name you had chosen stuck, and no one ever noticed your old one threatening to jump from your mouth when you introduced yourself. you always kept the childhood memories and little anecdotes vague. you stuck to your rehearsed lines better than a world-famous actor. you did every single thing right.

and now, here he was, your own blood, fucking it all up for you, again.

technically, he had made you fuck it up for yourself. it was just how makarov worked; he was a spider weaving a web in the corner, watching, waiting. this man, your supposed father, didn't know anything real about you. he didn't know you as a father should know his daughter. but he knew which buttons to press.

he only knew what to say to you when it would allow him the opportunity of watching you fall a little deeper towards rock bottom.

you knew that the room had cameras covering every square inch, and the microphones ensured that you're accidental admission to your heritage was heard by your entire task force.

there was a red hot pit opening inside of you, caving your insides in like a black hole and threatening to consume your entire being. it was rage, you realized. something you only ever seemed to feel in the presence of one person.

you briefly considered killing him, right there and then. was this really the straw that broke your back? it truly was just another thing to add to the list. you had known he would do this.

no, you were angry at yourself.

on the other side of the door, the four men of the 141 task force were all stood still in shock. what the hell did you just say?

none of them wanted to believe it. they especially didn't want to admit that it made sense. you had done a fucking fantastic job of hiding it, they'll admit that, but even you couldn't hide everything.

price saw the way you tensed when you were passed laswell's photo of makarov in the bar, after you had all put an end to hassan's plan. he saw the way you dropped it and slid it to the next person quickly, as if touching the picture had burned your fingertips.

soap had asked you if you were okay more than once during the plane ride to russia. you were so restless, so different from your usual grounded self. you just said you were having some flying anxiety. he felt stupid now for writing it off so easily.

and kyle, the first one to trust you (and to even really talk to you), he had seen the anger sparking off of you while you shot your way through the tower to get to makarov. floor after floor, bullet after bullet, you had paved a path of blood through the mercenaries. he wondered if someone else had taken your mask and gear and was pretending to be you.

simon saw the fear in you when you all got to the last door. you had been so quick in your endeavor to get here, but he saw you hesitate to follow them in. he saw how you never took your wide eyes off of him, and how you stayed a few steps back, moving far out of the way when price began to escort him out in handcuffs.

and when they had asked you to go into the interrogation room, they all saw how you stopped breathing, and the sweat collecting on what little skin they could see above your mask. you had stuttered when you quietly agreed.

when you stepped into the room, makarov took one look at your eyes, and you knew he recognized you. no, he recognized the hatred. and it made him smile.

now, sitting in the cold metal chair, you realized that it wasn't just one mistake, but a series of them; you had let him unravel you, again. you understood, finally, that he saw you as he did everyone else. he saw you as someone that held him back.

part of you had always known, ever since you were young, still single-digits, and he would only visit you once every few months, if that. you had elected to ignore it. now you couldn't.

you couldn't move. behind you was the door that would lead you to the consequences of your actions. in front of you was the reason for those actions.

this is what you had wanted, wasn't it? it was like something snapped back into place, and you suddenly remembered that everything you had done up until now, every time you put the mask on before leaving your room, every lie you had told and every person you had killed had been to get you here. in front of your father. you remembered that the image of him with a bullet between his eyes was what kept you going.

if you killed him, would it finally absolve you? the gun on your hip felt twenty pounds heavier now. your fingers, folded together in your lap with a white-knuckle grip, felt like lead. would this sin make all the other wrongs right?

a tiny voice was telling you to just walk away, let the team's wrath come down on you and let them deal with makarov, but you had already thrown the table between you towards the wall, he was already on the ground with your hands wrapped around his throat.

you were yelling, no, screaming at him. all the compacted feelings from years and years of being as quiet as possible came up like vomit, spewing out in a mess that could never be cleaned up.

there were more than just makarov's hands on you, pushing and pulling you away from him and dragging you out of the room, kicking and screeching to let you just finally kill him, while two other blurry shapes hauled him back into his own chair.

the heavy metal door shut behind the two people practically carrying you, and they finally let you go. you stumbled a few steps away, whirling around for the next target of your fury.

your captain and lieutenant were standing in front of you, both tensed, waiting for you to do something. you couldn't exactly make out their faces- were you crying?

"what in the bloody hell just happened in there?" price snarled. it was the voice he used when he was face to face with his enemy.

"let me back in there." it was a demand. you needed to kill him.

"that's not gonna happen," simon barked. john and kyle had come out from the interrogation room to stand behind the other two men. "you need to explain, now."

they all stared at you with varying looks of anger and hurt. it wasn't the first time you'd ever had it directed at you, but this was somehow worse than all the others.

every cell in your body was shrieking at you to just run for the door, to somehow get through all four of these men, your teammates, your friends, and kill makarov. but their glares glued you to your spot.

"please-" your voice was trembling, years of grief and agony dripping from every word, "please, just let me kill him. you have to let me kill him." you spoke slowly and quietly, focusing on just trying to get the words out. you took a shaky breath and focused your eyes on a muddy bootprint on the floor. you didn't want to see the looks on their faces.

"you don't understand, you just- just let me back in there, please, i'll get whatever you need out of him, but he needs to die!" your voice was getting louder, and you briefly wondered if your father could hear you. "his men are probably already on their way here. don't you get it? if i don't kill him now, he will get out."

the men in front of you were more shocked now than anything at the change in your demeanor. you had been coined the "second ghost" throughout the units, partly for the mask, but also because of your detachment. you were kind, but you always held logic above emotion.

in front of them now was nothing short of a nervous wreck.

despite not moving, you were frantic. you were wringing your hands together, pressed tight against your stomach. your eyes darted from side to side, person to person, between them and the door to makarov.

price took a step forward and you took a step back. he was slow, bringing his hand up as if he were approaching a wild animal. if he was still angry, he was hiding it now.

"come on, kid, let's just get out of 'ere, eh? go somewhere away from him," he said lowly. the other three men watched tensely, not moving, but their hands still close to their guns. just in case.

"no, no- just let me- price, you need to let me back in there!" you were a broken record, you knew it, but there was nothing else to say, nothing else you could think about. this was what you had been waiting for, you were right where you had wanted to be for the past- how many years now? how long has he tormented you for now?

you could feel your father's presence in the next room like bugs crawling across your body. it made your head feel fuzzy and your hands shake. was it from rage or fear? you couldn't tell, so you chose the rage.

it was like bile stuck in your throat, all the pain makarov had caused you finally being unearthed. you wanted to throw it all up and spit it out onto him, lay your organs and hatred alike out on the table in front of him so he could see the decay. you wanted him to rot from the inside out like you had.

your eyes glanced at the door one last time before focusing on price. he was watching you, just a couple of steps in front of you now.

"let me back in there, john." it was a whisper, but still the steadiest thing you had spoken since they had dragged you out.

"no." he said your name quietly, and you heard it as the plea it was, but you're head decided it was done listening.

your body threw itself at him, swinging underneath his arms and onto his back to try and get him on the ground. the room exploded into yelling, and multiple pairs of hands were on you in an instant, hauling you off of price and forcing you face-down onto the ground with your hands behind your back.

cold metal latching around your wrists didn't stop your screaming and kicking, lashing out at the air around you. it didn't work well, because you were being hauled back to your feet and pushed into a separate interrogation room.

whoever was carrying you didn't bother with trying to attach your handcuffs to the table, basically throwing you in and slamming the door shut before you could get back on your feet.

outside the cell, the four men stood in silent shock. what was there to say, where would they even start? would they really be able to hear each other over your muffled screams to let you out?

you didn't know how long you had been in there once the door finally opens again, but you had stopped screaming and struggling to get out of the room. you had sat down at the table, your hands folded in front of you on the cold surface. you stared down at the blood beading and smearing around the handcuffs.

kyle squeezed in through the tiny amount he'd let the door open before he shut it quickly, keeping his eyes on you. you didn't look up, your red eyes staying fixed on one point even as he slowly moved closer. he followed them to see the red rings underneath the steel, and a pang of guilt squeezed his heart tight.

he sat down across from you, folding his hands in front of him on the table, mirroring you. you still hadn't looked up at him, or done anything to acknowledge his presence; you hadn't even moved.

"are you alright?" kyle implored. he kept his voice soft, bending over a little to try to look you in the eye.

it took you a few moments to respond; he almost started to think you didn't hear him before you opened your mouth slowly.

"is he dead?" you croaked.

kyle let out an audible sigh while he leaned back in his seat, bringing his hands up to drag them down his face.

"no, we still need him. you know that."

you didn't say anything after that.

after sitting in silence for two full minutes, he spoke up. "you realize not telling us about this makes you look really bad, yeah?"

"you don't trust me anymore?" you whispered it, like you didn't want him to hear and answer. you knew what he would say.

"you aren't making it very easy."

kyle wanted to trust you still. part of him was angry and confused as to why you had kept something like this from them. the other part, the bigger part of him, knew that you were on still on the same side of it all. and he knew the other three men felt the same, but they couldn't just dismiss this.

"we can work this out, ya' know. you just have to be honest with us," he added after you once again stayed silent.

"be honest?" you echoed. you finally looked up at him. "about what? you heard me. makarov is my father. i want him dead. that's all there is to say."

kyle took his turn to not speak, weighing your words, figuring out where to go from there.

"why didn't you tell us?" he finally asked.

you looked back down at your wrists. "if i had told you i was makarov's daughter before i joined the team, then all i would have ever been is makarov's daughter." you paused to take a deep, shaky breath. it was uncomfortable with your mask still on, wet with tears, but you refused to take it off, to give away the last piece of your identity that was still yours at the moment.

"it's something we should have known," he contended quickly. "we could have used the information you have-"

you cut him off, your eyes snapping back up to glare daggers at him. "you think i know anything more than you?" you barked. something between a laugh and a sob escaped your throat before you could continue. "i was eight years old the last time i saw him in person. i was raised by live-in nannies. he only visited, what, maybe twice a year? and i don't know why he even bothered, either."

your hands were clenched into tight fists, and the same sting that circled your wrists was appearing in your palms. you kept going though; you didn't know if you could stop now.

"every time i get somewhere, every time i start making a life for myself again, he fucks it all up. never showed his damn face, but it was him, it was always-" you finally cut yourself off, not wanting to drag more memories out from the dark.

"makarov may be my father, but i am not his daughter. i swear, kyle, i fucking swear it." you were pleading with him to believe you now. you needed them to understand.

you could see it in the way his eyebrows creased that he wanted to take your words as the truth. but he didn't say anything (what could he have said?).

the door opened once again, and price half-entered the room to wave kyle back out. he avoided your gaze, something he'd never done before. then you were alone again.

Pretty boys showing off their midriff,,,, currently going feral

Heizou's here too because of his shirt, giving me glimpses of his waist like that

[Thirst]!

feral anon my beloved bc why?? why are they dressing slutty and showing us their waists as of we don't wanna do unspeakable things to them >:(

i can imagine heizou pretending to be coy, wanting to lure you in of what he was wearing. see how he wears a literal shirt with open sides?? don't tell me this is for you to have easy access on him. he'll even tease you too, pulling his shirt a bit to the side so you can catch a glimpse of his nipples, already hard and puffy. you snap. you would come up behind him and put your hands under his arm to the holes of the side of shirt and grab his chest. he would act startled, muttering "what a pervert you are, just grabbing me like that.", "shut up, slut." you growl, signaling to lift his arms. you begin to toy his nubs, pinching and pulling while he moans, a ditzy smile on his lips as he feels sparks of please. he grinds his ass back to your, trying to feel more from you. "quit that, better have not tested my patience or you could've gotten more." heizou whines, wiggling his hips in dismay. "i'll keep playing with these," you pinch hard, making him mewl out your name. "all i want, so deal with it."

for aether, our beloved aether, he teases you with his stomach. especially after defeating an enemy, sweat would be running down his stomach and you would just stare. with his outfit, you can't help it, it just has your mind running. and he knows it. he knows how his exposed stomach riles you up and he likes it. he would push you back against a tree standing up and fumble with your pants, dropping it down and stroking your half-hard cock. "you were staring so much, [name]. what were you looking at?" he giggles, swiping his thumb across your slit. your eyes become hazy as he nudges your tip with his stomach, smearing pre-cum all over. "pervert. wanna cum on my stomach, don't you?" his strokes become faster on your shaft while feeling stimulation from your tip because of his stomach. you feel your legs wobble as your orgasm approaches, thrusting your cock in his hand. "that's right, [name]. cum all over me, cum all over my stomach.."

cyno.. just cyno. have you seen what he wears? hoyo missed the chance to make his nipples visible, he is literally not wearing anything even a shirt!! why can't they do that?? but i digress, because honestly ogle at him all you want, his body is too pretty not look at. so imagine finally camping to rest for the night after exploring the dessert with cyno. you get to rest after a long time of defeating and.. distraction. the entire time you two were fighting enemies, you can't help but sneak a glance of his body. his biceps, his waist, his chest? you were holding on to the last straw of focus you had or you might've just ended up jumping him instead. so while you two were resting, you passively said to let you use him for the night since you barely focused and almost got killed multiple times (pathetic excuse yes but its effective) and surprisingly, he agreed. you didn't waste any time, pushing him down on the sand and straddling his chest while he watches you, curious what you'll do.

you undo your pants and take your cock out, stroking it. "haahh— you don't what you were doing to me out there, cyno. you got to cover up sometime or i might just pounce on you out in the open." what you said made his eyes widen and his face suddenly felt warm. "how vulgar." he mutters as you eying his nipples. you pressed the tip of you cock to one of his hardened nubs, circling it around as you kept stroking your shaft, making you groan. his back arches, eyes watching you intently as your cock plays with his nipples and strokes your cock. he can't look away. you free hand comes up to his other nipple, tugging and pulling while you stroke yourself faster, making sure your tip keeps pushing to his nub and he whines, his hips writhing around. you feel yourself about to cum, getting you to pinch him harder. "[n-name], you're so nghh— filthy.. getting off to me like this. maybe i should keep mmmph— showing myself like this to you.." you give pull on on your cock and groaning as you cum, spilling it all over his nipple and chest. you catch your breath and look at cyno and his mouth was in a frown. he grabs your cock and pulls it, "i was expecting you to cum in my mouth.. so do it again."

hehehehe i had something in mind with cyno and honestly it was probably bc of a twt vid i saw or smth lol . thank you for anon again for the food! <33

could you do a m!greaser hc where the m!greaser unintentionally says dirty stuff without realizing it (like saying good boy when they do a task for m!greaser,exc.) and it flusters the gang? if you don’t like this one just ignore it, if you do it THANK YOUUUU🖤

No problem pookie!!! And I actually love this so much and I had so much fun coming up with dirty jokes

Ponyboy Curtis

-hes hanging out with you

-reading with you

- working on homework

-“Hey, Pony… this problems pretty hard, you mind helpin’?”

-“Sure, y/n!”

-he does it with you leaning over him, watching him complete the problem step by step carefully

-when he finished explaining you whistle at him

-“What a good boy… thanks Pony.”

-you whisper in his ear form the close contact, grabbing your paper back

-his ears turn red as he stares at his own work, gulping and trying to pretend like he didn’t hear what he thinks he did

-he looks back at you, checking to see if you realize what’s going on

-but there you are, working peacefully

-he thinks about it for the rest of the night

Johnny Cade

-you guys were out at a restaurant

-hole in the wall place

-shooting straws at waitresses

-seeing who could do more without getting caught

-you won, and soon you both get kicked out onto the street, giggling

-“How’s that loss for ya, Johnny?” You grin, and get closer to him

-“Take it, Take it!” You chant, teasing him about the little game

-but he takes that last bit of your sentence far differently as he blushes

-“T-taking what now?” He asks softly, his eyes wide

-“Yk, the loss.” You say with a nonchalant shrug

-Johnny blushes even harder when he realizes you don’t know your own joke, his eyes widen to be the size of saucers

-“Johnnycake you ok?”

-“uhm- yeah.”

Sodapop Curtis

-you’re both getting ready for a shift

-and he’s teasing you about something while you both put your shoes on

-“Careful, Soda don’t make me tie you up like those shoes.”

-he smirks “Forward, Y/n. I like it”

-“What are you talkin about?” You say with an irritated glare

-“yk, tyin me up-“

-“LORD not like that! I mean to keep you from making those jokes not like- like that!”

-he blushes a bit when he realizes you didn’t know what you were talking about

-damn. He was looking forward to it.

Darry Curtis

-you are both making dinner

-you’re on a time crunch

-it has to be done before the rest of the Curtis boys come home

-and you decide to make some pizza with Darry

-you start rolling out the dough and slapping it down

-guiding Darry through how to make it when you aren’t around

-“See, Dare? You gotta slap the dough hard. Really rough to get the crust thin- what are you snickering on about?”

-Darry smirks, and blushes a bit “So you gotta slap the dough pretty hard right?!”

-you roll your eyes “Yes, that’s what I’ve been saying this whole time!”

-“You could slap my dough anytime.”

-“Darry that doesn’t make any- Oh you tricky bastard…”

-you flush in realization

Dallas Winston

-“Damn Dal, that’s really long... it’s so big.”

-you say, referring CLEARLY to the switchblade Dal just stole from a weapon shop

-he chuckles, smirking a bit

-he’s one of the few that figured out you genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about when you say stuff like that

-“is it, now, y/n?”

-“yeah man, it’s crazy huge!”

-he smirks

-“You know what else is huge?”

-You finally catch onto the joke

-realize he pulled out that knife just so you’d say that

-and was fucking with you the whole time

-so you decide to bite back a bit

-you cross your arms “Your list of bad life choices?”

-he crosses his arms “That’s cold, Y/n.”

Two Bit Mathews

-probably the least likely to catch on you don’t know what you’re talking about

-you both are eating some chocolate cake and watching Mickey Mouse

-“Two, we should take a break. We’ve been watching tv for hours.”

-“Yeah what are you y/n, my dad?”

-“Maybe I am your daddy.” You say with a smirk “or at least until you can learn to stop acting like a child

-he blushes so hard at this, both embarrassed and flustered

-“Gee, y/n. You sure know how to make a guy blush.”

-you furrow your brows “what you yappin about, Two?”

Steve Randle

-you’re helping Steve work on cars/fill up gas at the station

-you’re trying to fit the pump inside the tank

-it seems like you chose the wrong pump for that model of car

-you grunt, trying to fit it in “F-fuck Steve it won’t fit!”

-Steve comes out from under the car, with a raised eyebrow until he realizes what you’re talking about

-“I think you have the wrong hole there, y/n.” He jeers with a smirk

-you flush in embarrassment, and then move it to the right one

-“Gee, sorry Stevie. No wonder it was so tight…”

-Steve chuckles and blushes a bit from the accidental implication

Leather Jacket

a/n: Okay this is my first fanfic on here like this. This is my first JJ/reader fic. I tried really hard on this, so please be kind

warning: Some curse words, mentions of Luke Maybank, JJ being JJ, angst fluff ending. Loosely inspired by the song “Leather Jacket” by The Arkells

word count: 1 k

pairing: JJ/ girlfriend/ex reader

The rain was blurring your vision, you could barely make out bright reflecting halos that were speeding past you on the road.

Your short dress wasn’t your brightest idea, and your boots were soaked with the puddles you could not avoid to get here.

Teeth chattering from the cold breeze along with what felt like a tsunami to you.

Where was your ride? And where was your phone for that matter?

Just then a car pulled up beside you, next to the pay phone you used to call.

You opened the door to the old car, and you hurried into it shivering.

“Here” JJ Maybank said handing you the leather jacket with a smile

He had been asleep when his phone rang that early morning. He had been crashing at the Chateau since the breakup. JJ was surprisingly sober, but he wasn’t in a peaceful dream either. He was replaying your last conversation.

“I can’t do this anymore JJ”

“Do what Y/N?

“We have been dating for three years. Do you even love me?

“The hell kind of question is that. Of course I love you Y/N.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem like it. John B and Sarah are married. Pope is thinking of proposing to Cleo… we are still here crashing in my apartment pretending to live together like we did three years ago” you had said tears forming in your blue eyes JJ loved so much.

“Y/N come on… don’t cry. I hate seeing my angel cry” he said trying to wrap his arms around you.

“I need stability JJ. I want a life with you as your wife “you said hiccupping from sobbing.

“You want to get married?” JJ asked dumbfounded scratching his head.

         That had been in, the last straw for you. Of course, JJ loved you. He had never loved anything more in his existence. He dreamed of a life with you, but he was a pogue. You were a kook. It shouldn’t matter to him. You had proven status didn’t matter to you.  You moved out of your parents figure eight mansion and into a one-bedroom apartment near the cut to be closer to him.  The money wasn’t gone though. Your parents still gave you everything. They even accepted your relationship with a Maybank.

         JJ was still Luke Maybank’s son though. He thought you deserved better. He knew it. You still stayed and that’s why he couldn’t propose.

        You had left the Chateau a week ago. He had broken your heart and it killed him. He was doing the right thing. You would move on to some kook prince and get the life you were worthy of, not the shit hole of a life he could provide for you.

         He was relieving all this when his phone rang and when he looked at the glowing screen it was no caller I.D. He answered anyway, still hopful

“Y/n? he asked sitting up in bed.

“JJ…I lost my phone at the bar, and I need a ride. Can you pick me up?”

“Are you at “the Gater”?” he asked putting his shoes on.

“Yes.. j its raining and I’m cold” you said sounding miserable.

“Be right there sweetheart “He got his keys and got his jacket and was off to the bar you two had made so many memories together.

You took the leather jacket that still smelled like tobacco and bergamot, the aroma engulfed your senses. It might have been his father’s jacket but it reminded you of the man that you still adored.

You remembered everything from three years of dating. The fast-food dates where you would share milkshakes with the cute blonde boy. The dance at your school that he thought he didn’t belong, but you proudly held his hand and guided him to the dance floor. To wrapping your new puppy in the garment as you brought it to your apartment.

A leather jacket that was home just like the man in the drivers seat was.

 He put the car in gear and started driving in silence. Neither of you knew what to say at first. The heat was making your tired bones comfortable and soon you had fallen asleep.

JJ looked over at you and chuckled to himself. He only woke you when he stopped at your apartment building.

“Y/N… hey were home—er I mean were at your place” he corrected himself but felt his cheeks go crimson.

You opened your eyes and looked around and nodded understanding JJ. You unbuckled your seatbelt and were about to get out when JJ reached to gently take your hand.

“Why’d you call me?” JJ asked softly.

“You were the first person I thought of.” You said honestly meeting his gaze.

        You were walking to the entrance of the complex when you heard the familiar voice behind you.

“Y/N I cant give you what you grew up with” he screamed over the pouring rain.

“I grew up with loving parents that accepted me for everything I was. You cant give me that Maybank?” you asked walking toward him getting soaked again.

“I will love you with everything I got” he said as you reached him cupping his drenched face in your hands.

“What are you saying then?” you asked softly.

“You have my heart, my jacket, why not my last name?

You jumped in his arms and kissed him deeply.

He returned the kiss then took your hands in his and with the fear of becoming his father subsiding in his gut he asked the girl he loved to marry him.

“Yes JJ Maybank I will marry you” you said giggling then took his hand as you both ran inside from the storm.

As the door closed you noticed the tears in his eyes mixed with rain-stained cheeks. “I love you J”

“Y/N I love you too. Before we plan our wedding though. I have one more very important question for you”

“What would my fiancée like to know?” you asked giggling at the word “fiancée”

“Who the fuck uses a pay phone?”

The sounds of your laughter replaced the rain outside, and you both knew the sun would pierce through the sky again.

tagging @mvybanks(for help and inspiration) @moremaybank(for inspiration) and @maybankslover( inspiration)

hear me out...your acting up at a bakusquad get-together so bakugou fucks you infront of the bakusquad as punishment?

¢υм ѕℓυт

Fem! Reader x Katsuki Bakugo x Bakusquad

Warning: 18+ Content. BDSM, daddy kink, spanking, vouyerism, group orgy, heavy degrading, public humiliation, friend swapping, orgasm denial, oral, spitting kink, consensual non-con etc.

A/N: I wrote this with my whole puth. Enjoy.

Words: 1,234

Tags: @decayish @kxkyuu @peachyquing @milkthistletea @bakugousbrat @dienamights @vinny-likes-to-play21 @ssplague @ahbeautifulexistence @angie-1306 @lil-miminini @ebiharachan @raine-cloud @lanarist @awilddreamermain @sickchildren

You really did it now, Y/N.

Sure, you knew what you were doing was going to set Katsuki off. How could it not? Your slick talk in front of his friends full of attitude, defiance, ignoring Katsuki when he talked to you, and overall, just pushing your luck. Katsuki has never been one to have patience and even so, he tries to have some with you.

But you just kept on trying him.

You are upset with your significant other, to be fair. He had a get together on his one day off when he promised you that it would be a day just for you two. Especially since he is a workaholic by default. Now, you have a house full of unwanted guests. You love them, of course, but out of all days, this wasn’t supposed to be the day they were here. So, naturally, your petty self came out.

Especially since you know Denki Kaminari has had a crush on you since you were teenagers. You were sure to give him some extra attention with flirtatious actions. The final straw is when you went to sit on Denki’s lap. That’s when Katsuki had enough.

“Y/N!” Katsuki bellowed as he raced over to you, yanking you by the arm. “What the hell do ya think you're doing, huh?” He barks, trying his best not to burn holes into your soft skin.

“I was just being friendly to our guest, Suki.” You counter, sweetly, but nothing could hide the fear present in your irises. Katsuki’s crimson gaze was dark and his grip was far from gentle.

“You must think I’m stupid!” Katsuki growls, glaring at you then at Denki. Before you could even come up with an argument, Katsuki bends you over the nearest surface — which was a couch — and begins removing any article of clothing you had on.

“Katsuki! What are you doing?!” You questioned in embarrassment.

“Since you want to put on a show, we’ll give them a fuckin’ show.”

Your eyes widen as you realize what he is doing. “Katsuki, wait I’m sorry—“

A hard slap interrupts your apologies. Grabbing you by your hair, he pulls your head back so you can hear him clearly. “Shut it. I’ve heard enough of your bad ass mouth all damn day.”

Tears brimmed your eyes with embarrassment. All you could do was cover your orbs and pretend Katsuki’s friends were not here to see him prepare to be making a mess out of you.

Removing his erected cock from his pants, he teases your entrance with his tip before pulling you onto his cock. You instantly let out moans of pain and pleasure. No matter how many times you take Katsuki’s thick length, you will never be adjusted to his size.

Grabbing a fist full of hair, Katsuki makes you face the crowd. “Don’t hide your face, brat. Let them see the faces you make as I fuck you.”

Your vision is already becoming blurry from each thrust Katsuki makes into your tight little hole. Your moans echo the space, filling his friend's eardrums.

“Yeah, you like that? Like everyone watching as I make a mess out of you?” Katsuki mocked, chuckling as all you can mumble are incoherent sentences. “Maybe I should let them join me since you want to be such a cock hungry slut.”

Of course, this was Katsuki’s bluff. He would never share his lover with anyone else. You are his and his only. Hell, if any of his friends even tried, he would disintegrate them into ash. If anything, this is him marking his territory.

“I’m down to join!” Sero calls, all for Katsuki to glare at him. “Move it before I burn you to ash!” Katsuki threatens, causing Sero to sit back down in his seat.

Katsuki’s strokes begin to slow down so you can gain some consciousness only for him to pick back up. “Ha! Thought I was going to go easy on you?” Katsuki tantalized, knowing your pupils are glazing over once more, your nails digging into the cushion for some sort of support while he blows your back out with each harsh stroke.

“C’mon, slut. You know you like it when I fuck you like this. Don’t be shy.” Katsuki condescendingly encourages, smacking your ass right after. A yelp escapes you, everyone watching your poor little body get obliterated by Katsuki’s girthy cock.

Another slap is delivered to your ass. “Where’s all that mouth on ya now, huh?” Katsuki chuckled. “C’mon, call me Daddy like you always do. Beg for me to fill you up with my cum.”

“Please fill me up with cum, Daddy.” You pleaded, slowly falling more and more into your submissive ways.

“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Katsuki ridiculed, continuing to go faster as his balls slapped against you.

As if everything wasn’t humiliating enough, your body is ready to cum as well. You attempted to not say anything, but Katsuki noticed. “Aw, someone’s gotta cum?”

“Such a cute little slut.” Eijiro chimes in, already stroking his hard cock in his pants. Katsuki paid it no mind, though, his focus only being on you and not all of his friends getting off.

“Fuck yeah they are. This cum slut is all mine.” Katsuki proudly states. “What do you guys think? Think we should let the brat cum?”

“Hmm,” Mina strolled over and observed her friend, her plush thighs already tight from being turned on. Grabbing some of your hair, Mina meets your gaze. Your one true hope of being able to release is demolished. “I don’t think the little cum slut has learned their lesson yet.”

Katsuki nodded, wrapping his hand around Mina’s neck. “You really think you get to dictate what happens to my whore when you’re just as pathetic and cock hungry yourself?” Katsuki growls, dipping his fingers in between Mina’s already soaked core.

“Lay on the couch, legs open.” Katsuki demanded, opening Mina’s mouth so he could spit into it. The saliva rolled down her tongue. “Swallow like a good girl.”

Nodding, Mina did so with ease before laying on the couch, her legs open in front of you. “Eat her out.” Katsuki ordered, delivering a hard slap to your ass.

With no hesitation, you settled in between Mina’s legs, licking her pink slit to send chills down her spine. All the men gathered around to watch as you kissed her bare pussy, pleasing her clit with your fingers.

“Faster,” Mina moaned, her fingers settling in your hair, “please go faster.”

Mina couldn’t even beg anymore as Denki’s cock found a way into her mouth, his cum oozing onto her tongue. “That’ll shut her up.” Denki chuckled as Mina slurped up all of his cum, her moans sending vibrations through his body.

Katsuki, being the impatient man that he is, couldn’t take anymore of him just jerking off. He needed to be in your depths some more. Without even giving warning, he snuck up behind you and entered his cock into your begging hole. Your moan vibrates through Mina, her legs quivering at the sensation.

Katsuki continues to deliver back strokes while you pleasure Mina’s pussy. Your tongue explored all of her, not leaving any part of her to be unattended. Her slick soon covered your tongue, your cum following shortly after onto Katsuki’s cock.

“Such a good little cum slut.” Katsuki praises.

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved — I don’t give anyone permission to repost, distribute, copy or re-use my works in any way. Especially not on other websites such as Tik Tok, Ao3, Wattpad, etc.

afternoon with a ghost

synopsis: it's just another regular weekend for you, visiting your boyfriend in the land of the living.

cast: non!idol taerae (zb1) x gn!ghost reader

genre: ghost au, comfort, light fluff, light angst

wc: 1k (1082)

warnings: references to reader's death, mentions of a drunk driver, joking about stealing boba, pet names used, cursing

notes: another wtf is eris writing moment. i'm not really on something when i think of my writing ideas, but i'm on something, you know what i mean?

taglist: @restlessmaknae

taerae attempted to stab the top of his strawberry milk tea (a recommendation from ricky) with a straw, resulting in some liquid spilling out from the top.

he frowned and tried again, this time, managing to successfully puncture a hole at the top so that he could drink his sugary drink in peace.

you laughed at him and his struggle with the drink. "you would think that after being friends with me for so long, it'd be easier for you to do that. how often do we get boba?"

"not as often as we used to, love."

you laid your head on his shoulder like usual, and he glanced over—he's still not used to the chills he gets when he's around you, metaphorically and literally.

taerae was also not used to how transparent you were, like the glass on his shower door. how he could see the other side of his couch through your torso. but he never stared for too long—he knew when you were aware of him doing that.

but most of all, he wasn’t used to you referring to your hangouts as if you were still alive and well.

you yawned. "well, you're very busy, and i'm very dead. still, it's nice to hang out. do your friends know you've been talking to a ghost?"

"even if they did, i'm sure they wouldn't believe me," he said, shrugging. "i get it, honestly. i'll tell them, eventually."

smiling, you took your own boba cup, piercing the top with one clean stab of the straw. in life and death, brown sugar milk tea would always be your favorite. mortifyingly sweet, but tasty.

"of course, this can be our little secret for a while longer. how's the singing channel going?"

he laughed. "it's alright. you should listen to the new infinite cover medley i uploaded!"

your eyes widened and you nodded in approval. "wow, you really have been busy. when i get the chance, i will, don't worry."

a small grin appeared on his face.

"i'll hold you to it."

"even though i'm dead?" you asked sarcastically.

"yea, who said you being dead would stop me from making you stream my videos? i do technically need views and more engagement."

he took another few sips of the milk tea. god, it was hard to maintain the perfect ratio of tea to boba pearls. you were always able to do so, after all, you were considered the expert on all things boba.

you hummed and tapped your chin with your pointer finger. considering your transparent appearance, the motion did look odd to taerae.

"i'll consider it."

you put your drink down on the coffee table, laid your body across the couch, and rested your head on his lap, causing him to feel a light but odd sensation on his skin.

he grinned. "wow, you're so cold, y/n."

"no shit, sherlock. but you're here with me anyways."

the two of you laughed simultaneously.

"because i missed you. even if you're only occasionally able to visit, some time with you is better than none at all.”

you stared up at his face, no doubt taking in his dimples and other facial features.

"cute," you muttered under your breath. this was a common habit of yours, laying your head on his lap, sometimes saying whatever came to mind, and other times, saying nothing at all. it was a relaxing time for both of you.

his face softened even more while staring at you. for a few more minutes, maybe he could pretend it was all okay.

some days, it hurt more than others, seeing you and wishing your life hadn't been cut short by a reckless and drunk driver. you told him not to be so down about it, but he couldn't help but think of the ways the scenario could have been prevented. other days, he'd forget about the incident, only to recall it suddenly.

what hurt most of all was that taerae had envisioned a beautiful and vibrant future with you, one that would never come to fruition.

maybe it was a little delusional, you'd both have a house with a room for instruments, go on semi-frequent boba runs, and lovingly annoy the shit out of each other for eternity. and now, the possibility of that was gone.

he closed his eyes. "i know that i can't logically date a ghost, but believe me, i would try if it was you. i miss you."

for some reason, logic and reason always seemed to find the door when it came to his feelings for you.

your gaze pierced through his soul. "i know, taerae, and i hope you can move on. i love you, but you know that you have to live your life."

he sighed and gazed at the steady rise and fall of your chest. "of course, y/n."

you easily sat up, picked up your boba, and floated beside him. "now, let's move on from depressing stuff, shall we? i still haven't asked you for your opinion on the drink."

he looked at his half-empty cup. "i like it. i'm glad i didn't order it any sweeter, though—it's refreshing as it is. i'll have to tell ricky his recommendation was pretty solid."

"as for you," he continued. "you'll never stop drinking brown sugar milk tea, will you?"

"until the day i die—oh wait. until i'm reincarnated into someone who absolutely hates boba, i will never give up the chance for that drink."

you hummed thoughtfully to yourself. "you know, i could steal it. i don't think any of the employees over at that boba place can see ghosts. but i won't, because i'm a semi-nice person."

taerae laughed. "to be fair, you didn't think i could see them either. but here we are."

"yeah, you're right. even that only happens every once in a blue moon."

he stood up, watching you take a few more sips of your drink. "can't get rid of me, y/n. even when you're dead."

you rolled your eyes, trying to hide a smile. "would never dream of it. but please. like i said, don't let me hold you back from a great future."

he paused. "y/n, you could never hold me back. if anything, you keep me going."

you giggled lightly. "then let's keep going, until the end."

maybe taerae's future wouldn't be one he had planned or expected. but as long as he had his favorite ghost by his side, he was sure things would be easier.

There is a hole in Steve.

He doesn't know how long it has been there. Maybe his whole life? Since the doctor shocked a cry and his first breath out of him in one go.

All he knows is he has been trying to fill it for as long as he can remember.

First with his parents.

He tries to be what they wanted. Tries to make them both happy.

An impossible task for people of such opposing opinions. A constant scale that cannot be balanced. Please, one, disappoint the other.

Once they move on from him, board of their attempt at parenthood there are the nannies.

Women chosen by his parents, paid to care for him in their stead. Some of them come close, almost kind enough and happy with him to stretch across that void.

Then the scales come back for a visit, changing out wardrobes and making expected appearances. Whoever hired the nanny is undermined by the other and Steve has to start all over again to try and fill that void.

Over and over with only brief moments of relief that are quickly snatched away.

One day the nannies stop coming. No caretaker for him to attempt to patch the hole with because he is too old for them now or so his parents say.

He finds new ways to fill the void.

Friend's have never been his focus. Grades were always more important in the equation to fill that void. But things have changed.

Still he finds it easy when he puts himself out there. His big empty house is a big draw for friends. The parties and the people filling his house feels like trying to stuff hands full of gravel in the whole. They keep slipping away before he can patch it shut.

For a while he thinks Tommy and Carol might be the key. Might be able to give him what he needs to fill the hole as long as he gives them whatever they want.

It crumbles slower than the other patches. But crumbles it does. Eroding over years instead of months.

Nancy is the last straw. She is nice and kind and he thinks maybe she could fill it for good one day. Tommy and Carol only get meaner, displeased to not get everything they want and ripping into that hole, cracking it wider when they leave.

He clings to Nancy. Tries to pretend that after all the weirdness of the upside down things are the same. Tries to convince himself even though the hole in him is more like a gaping cavern now whistling as the wind blows.

It does not hurt so bad when she leaves. The patch already frayed and decaying before it comes crashing down.

Billy is less of a fill and more of an all consuming tar. Covering him from head to toe, pulling him into his pit and curling around him. Steve sinks into it gladly. It fills the hole, overflowing and hardening into exactly what Steve’s been searching for all his life.

Steve is finally whole when he is resting against Billy’s chest, listening to the beat under his ribcage.

He has finally found what he has been searching for. His heart.

-

I wrote this at like 4 am a few weeks ago when I couldn't sleep. It's just been living in my drafts. I don't usually post stuff here because it just die. 😮‍💨

a pretty good reunion

this is @twic0rd​‘s christmas gift exchange!! It’s a 3.5k words of a mumscarian injury fic set it an unknown timeline (after season 8). Technically it’s a hurt/comfort, but I’m not very good at hurting my boys so it’s mostly fluff. It starts off with established Scarian with pining Mumbo and ends with the three of them getting together. Enjoy!!

There are some things in this world that are self-evident.

Therefore, due having to put up with things like preening, being monitored all times by your adoptive keepers, and having to cut wing holes out of everything he wore, he was allowed to torment them as much as he wanted.

One, Grian had wings.

Two, Scar and Mumbo did not.

(He convenient ignored the fact that as a shapeshifter, Mumbo could have wings too, but he didn’t have the helicopter watchers that came with Grian’s wings, so they didn’t count.)

Mumbo’s roof made a terrible perch. The first few times he tried landing on it, his talons unsuccessfully grappled with the slick tile and it usually ended with him falling flat on his ass. Several more smashes into the balcony later — and a few grooves he definitely didn’t deliberately scratch into the roof — he got the hang of it. Still wasn’t a pleasant feeling under his feet, though.

He ignored the tutting, fussing voices in the back of his head. He was a bird on a mission: make Mumbo’s life a living hell for leaving him so lo— for generating so much lag. He'll have a fun surprise waiting for him when he finally logs back on. What to do?

Blue eyes lit up as an idea popped into his head. 

Leafiana. Treesia’s grafted clone, because if the hermits can transcend dimensions and hop into a new server, why can’t Treesia? 

Well. He can pretend, anyways.

Talons clicked against roof tile as he launched from his perch in the rough direction of a forest. Grian never really got the hang of using the coordinates embedded in his communicator properly, relying more on his avian instincts to guide him.

He flew until the yellowed grass of the plains gave over to the brighter, truer greens of the forest. Ferns squished under him as he landed. He grinned softly to himself when he felt the foliage against his feet. He loved building, exploring structure and design in a way that can’t really be done in 2D, but sometimes he just wanted to build a nest in the trees and sleep with only a canopy to protect him instead of in his giant mansions and super-future towers. 

“I keep getting distracted,” he muttered to himself. He was here to gather materials for Treesia 2.0, and that meant getting his axe out and doing some chopping. 

Thud. Crash. Whatever other sounds trees made when they crashed down in a forest. Grian stood back to admire his haul, grimacing at the thought of having to chop these oaks up even further so he can shove them in shulkers. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his wing, hands currently occupied with a very sharp tool, before grimacing at the sticky mess of dirt that was now on his brightly coloured feathers. He sighed. As if he hadn’t had enough preening to do when he got back. 

He looked at the felled logs. It was probably around ten stacks, but he remembered needing at least half a shulker box for Treesia, and he certainly didn’t want to be outdone by past Grian, so he sighed and resigned himself to spending the next hour chopping more wood.

He should’ve chosen his next tree more carefully. It only took one hit of the axe to do this, after all. 

A high-pitched scream echoed throughout the forest. He barely registered it was his own. Blood flowed steadily out of Grian’s scalp and onto the crumpled ferns below, saturating the dark earth underneath. He tried to lift a hand to stem the flow, but only now did he notice that the branch that cut a gash into his head and knocked him over was now crushing his arm and wing. It must’ve already been on the verge of breaking, and his axe hit was just the final straw, he thought blearily. If he continued thinking a mile a minute, the pain wouldn’t consume him. 

Too bad, the universe said. You’re gonna hurt anyways. Whatever adrenaline was keeping the pain at bay long enough for him to take in his situation before was not pulling its weight anymore. His back throbbed angrily and pain laced through his wings from being stuck in such unnatural positions, not to mention the giant tree branch that was still on top of him. Grian could swear that he could hear the other Watchers laughing at his plight. Imagine what you could have done if you didn’t leave us, he bet they were whispering. Leaving to frolic among mortals. 

His communicator. He needed his communicator.

The bright light of the screen shocked a migraine into him. Great. He probably had a concussion on top of all his other injuries, too. I hope I didn’t type it wrong, he thought, just before black overtook his vision. He was always terrible at using coordinates.

[help me]

[1083, -3872]

Scar’s communicator beeped. He glanced down, lit up by a nearby beacon beam with a pickaxe in hand. He had just been gathering more andesite for a new build. 

His heart stopped. 

His pickaxe clattered to the floor as he quickly grabbed his rockets and set off in the direction of a certain pesky bird. If his boyfriend wanted help with a build, or even just to prank someone, he’d send a little more than just a depressingly short message and a set of coordinates. It was up to him to make sure he was okay; no one else was online except for an afk Tango. Even if it was a prank, Scar couldn’t possibly leave him alone.

His worry grew as he neared the coordinates. He was nowhere near any Hermit’s base; in fact, he had been flying over ocean for who knows how long. Had Grian typed them wrong? 

He looked at the coordinates again, trying to think of where it could possibly be, if not here. The easiest mistake to make is forgetting a negative, a mistake he knew from experience was far too easy to make. He racked his brain trying to remember what was around -1100, -3900. Mumbo’s base was within a few hundred blocks. It wasn’t that close, but it was all he could remember. 

Hopefully it was the right decision, he thought. Grian had been waiting for him long enough.

This time, a forest faded into view as he flew in. You can have accidents in forests, right? Scar knew he had enough issues navigating their dark, not Scar Safe premises. He dived downwards into the canopy when he reached the coordinates, only realising a little bit too late that that may have not been a very good idea.

A branch caught him in the stomach and he wheezed. A sucker punch was better than this. He panted as he caught his breath, hanging over the branch like he was laundry on a clothesline. He opened his eyes to see if he could spot some familiar feathers, but his hard-won air was forced out of him once again as he took in the scene before him.

"What in the world, Grian!?"

Grian was usually a sight for sore eyes, but the blood and the unnaturally crooked wings made his eyes sore. 

"Hang on, I'm coming to get you!" He shouted. He was half aware that Grian was probably out cold and couldn't hear him, but he felt the odd need to say it anyway. It was like there was an audience watching him. 

He wriggled off the branch and landed beside Grian with an 'oof'. He grimaced at the squelch of the ground, nearly gagging when he lifted his hands and saw that they were covered in brick red dust. The top layer of the blood must've dri-

How long has he been here? 

Spurred on by the icy realisation, he tried to lift the tree branch up to no avail. Never had he cursed being one of the physically weakest Hermits so much. He rummaged through his inventory to see if there was anything he could use, panic setting in, and then remembering that in his haste, he hadn't even thought to get healing potions or even a golden apple.

He bit his lip as he wondered whether going back to the shopping district to grab some potions would be worth the time sacrifice. Just as he was about to leave, his communicator beeps again. 

[MumboJumbo joined the game.]

What?

Shaking his head, he blinked a few more times to make sure he read the message properly. 

Nope, still the same. 

Any other time, he would be celebrating the return of the mustached man, but he was in quite the worrying situation right now. He could make use of this, though.

[mumbo can you get some healing poitons please?] 

[-1083, -3872]

Inhale.

[sure thing] 

And exhale.

Help was coming, and it was someone they had missed very, very, much. 

In the meantime, though, he had a head wound to bandage. 

"Ugh, my wings," Grian muttered. His head was pounding something awful but he had to get up, get this branch off him…

He paused. 

The weight he felt on him wasn’t the branch; it was a blanket. He gingerly felt around his throbbing head. It was bandaged. His arm and wings too, though the latter was done far more messy and crushed a few more of his feathers than he would've liked. Who had…?

The neat sorting system and redstone residue everywhere told him he was inside Mumbo's base. But it couldn't be Mumbo, because Mumbo wasn't her–

"Oh thank goodness, Grian! You're awake!" Scar appeared at the door, smiling his massive smile, crow's feet appearing in the outer corners of his eyes. He grabbed a cup of water from the bedside table and thrust it at Grian, spilling half of it over the blankets in the process. 

They took a minute to stare at the mess.

"I never think I can get any clumsier, but I beat my own records every time I move," Scar moped. 

Grian would be a lot more annoyed if he didn't look so genuinely upset, already grabbing a cloth to mop up the excess and moving to grab another blanket from the closet. While Scar was here, though, he might as well get his questions out of the way. "Did you help me? Also, did you move me to Mumbo's base?"

Scar blinked, pausing with the new blanket in hand. "Well, yes, but Mumbo also–" 

Before he could finish his sentence, and before Grian could process the bombshell Scar just dropped on him, the door burst open and a familiar mustachio'ed face stared back at him. 

"Uh… hi, Grian."

Silence. 

"It sure is nice to see you after so long. It's been a while hasn't it? You know, I wasn't really planning on being gone for so long–"

Grian was almost in awe at how fast the man could ramble when stressed. "Hi Grian? Really? That's the first thing you say to me when I haven't seen your mustache in months?"

Mumbo blushed, sheepish, an embarrassed hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. He opened his mouth, probably to try and mount a meager defence, but Grian ignored him and turned to Scar instead. “Thanks, Scar. I don’t know how I managed to get myself in such a messy situation.”

Scar moved to drag his old blanket from him and put the new one over top. Mumbo flinched when his battered body came into view, bandages around every part of him and tinged brown from dried blood. It seemed to spark something in Mumbo, though, as he quickly blathered about getting ‘supplies’ and ran off, back out the door he just came from. 

“Well that was weird.”

“Grian, Mumbo was actually quite helpful in getting you back here and patching you up, so maybe you can cut him some slack? I’m sure he didn’t leave us for so long,” Scar said. Grian snapping at Mumbo wasn’t the most warranted, but he could understand. Missing someone for so long only to be greeted like nothing had changed was always going to be jarring, and Grian wasn’t the only one who wanted something more from their long-awaited reunion. 

“I know, I know, I just thought his coming back would be a lot more fun, you know? Like, fireworks and a feast with the entire server, not him having to rescue me from a tree.” He groaned at the last word, only now having the time to feel embarrassed about the entire ordeal. “How did I lose to a tree!?”

Scar laughed at his flush and quickly pecked him on the cheek, his relief from before morphing into affection. His grin grew wider when Grian blushed even harder, throwing his hands up over his face before quickly remembering why sudden movements were not in his repertoire right now. 

His yelp of pain brought a worried furrow to Scar’s eyebrows. He gently took Grian’s injured arm and inspected the bandages, which were already starting to come off. Unwinding them made him flinch at the medley of bruises hidden just underneath, most of which were turning nasty purples. The cuts and scrapes were cleaned out, but the dressings kept them wet and disgusting to look at. 

Grian was still as Scar wiped away the old disinfectant and applied a new layer, the foul scent making his sensitive avian nose want to wither and die. The re-done bandages looked worse than they started, though, wound too tight in some places and not tight enough in others. Scar sat back, gazing at his handiwork, and sighed. “Mumbo did your bandages the first time ‘round.” 

“I could tell,” Grian laughed. Mumbo, despite his overall clumsiness, was always good with his hands – in more ways than one, his dirty mind finished for him – because of how often he worked with intricate redstone. “Did he also do my wings?”

“Yeah, he did. Were they good?”

Grian hummed, unsure how honest he wanted to be, given how earnestly both men were taking care of him. Well, one of them was his boyfriend, but still. Not to mention, if he wanted to rib on Mumbo, he wanted to do it when the man was here. 

A crash and a curse sounded from downstairs. 

Ah, there’s the man. Scar startled out of his seat, almost knocking Grian on the wing in the process. He stammered an apology and bowed out of the room in much the same way Mumbo did just a while before, calling out to the accident-prone man with a, “I’m coming!”

Several more crashes, screams, and a cat’s yowl that sounded like it was ripped straight from a sit-com later, Scar and Mumbo staggered back up with a handful of healing and regeneration potions, completely covered in far more gold dust than should have been possible given how long they’ve been gone. 

“How do you guys do this to yourselves every time?”

Scar glared at him playfully while Mumbo clutched the potions protectively to his chest. “The glistening melons were fighting me,” he defended himself. His arms twitched as if he was about to let go of the potions, and Grian was struck with the thought that Mumbo wasn’t being protective of the potions more so than simply not wanting to accidentally let go of them. “It’s not my fault that the chests you use to submerge the slices in gold dust are so easily knocked over.” 

His prominent glare at a certain elf made it clear exactly what happened downstairs. 

Quick, snorting giggles escaped him before he could control himself. Mumbo’s gaze softened and Scar simply went over to kiss him again. Mumbo tightened his hold on the potions again, but Grian was too busy being peppered with kisses all over his face to care particularly much.

Once he was done indulging, Scar popped open one of the many bottles and gestured for him to drink it, and then another one after that. The healing potions immediately went to work on the deepest parts of his injuries; a fracture in his arm that none of them caught immediately started to right itself, a deep pain finally clearing up, and his bruises immediately started to lighten. His tenderised wing bones needed the magic of the regen potions, though, and he was about to throw up with how much liquid the two fretting men forced into him. He groaned, his sensitive wings finally reforming themselves. Not all of it was done properly, and some wing bones still needed to be popped back into place, not to mention the amount of preening he had to do.

He motioned for someone to take his bandages off. Mumbo immediately went to work on his arms and body while Scar worked on his wings. He grimaced as a good few of his feathers were ripped out in the process, stuck to the dried blood. Scar immediately ran a soothing hand over the tender spots, gently rubbing the pain out. 

“That’s so much better,” he sighed. Pops sounded out as he finally rolled his shoulders back properly after being stuck in bed for…

“How long was I out for?”

“I think we carried you back here around three hours ago,” Mumbo said. Grian blinked. He was out for that long? Man, he knew he lost to a tree, but he didn’t think he lost that hard. Treesia 2.0 was out for blood, and she wasn’t even built yet. 

“Mumbo, you’ve shapeshifted into a bird before, right? You know how to preen wings?”

Mumbo nodded. He never stayed in those forms for long, preferring his human form for redstone, but the bird form was convenient when he loses his elytra and had to get somewhere quick.

“Can you help me with them, then? Even with Scar helping, it’ll take absolutely ages to get these boys back in working order,” Grian said. He flapped them lightly for emphasis. 

“Of course, of course,” Mumbo said, but he added hesitatingly, “But aren’t those… sensitive? I thought that was for…”

“Friends can preen each other as much as partners can.” This time, Grian didn’t miss Mumbo’s miniscule flinch. Oh? 

None of them said anything more as Grian shuffled backwards on the bed, making room for the two to crawl in beside him. They went to work on his wings, combing them back into their places and removing any remnants of broken blood feathers they could find. Grian popped any dislocated bones back into place, cringing slightly each time at the rush of pain.

That wasn’t the only feeling he was getting, though. 

Bird wings were sensitive, and many spots actually felt quite nice when touched. He chirped when Scar thumbed over one of his primary feathers and sighed when Mumbo pressed gently against his wingpit, trying to get a particularly stubborn feather out. Mumbo’s face flushed more and more as the preening session went on. The noises Grian was making were doing something to him, but he couldn’t help but feel terrible. Scar was literally right there, and here he was, blushing at every little noise.

“You could always join us, if you wanted,” Scar said. 

Mumbo yelped a little at that, only barely managing not to jump in surprise. “Huh? Join what? I’m perfectly fine, what are you talking about?”

“We’ve discussed it before, you know,” Grian chimed in. “Even before today, we always thought that… well, we wanted to date you too.” He hesitated when Mumbo took a second too long to reply. “Unless… we assumed wrong?”

“No!” Mumbo cringed at himself. That was almost a shout. “No, you assumed right, of course, I just—”

“Can I kiss you?” Grian blurted out. Mumbo’s frantic rambling increased to a frenetic rate, words spilling out of his mouth like a waterfall. Grian smirked. “Well, you made me feel mighty good right now. Might as well complete it, right?”

Mumbo froze, face immediately flushed tomato red. Grian reached out to poke him, but only got a small “Meep!” in return.

Scar laughed. “Gri, I think you broke him.” He reached out to poke him as well, hard enough to make him sway in place. 

“Not my fault he’s so easily breakable,” he pouted. 

“Grian, you lost to a tree.”

“Shut up!” 

And he did, with a deep kiss. That got a reaction out of the dying mustached man. Mumbo swallowed so hard Grian could hear it over the pounding in his ears, and he broke from Scar, leaning over with his intent clear in his eyes. Mumbo nodded imperceptibly, eyes still darting between their lips, and anything he was about to say was swallowed up by Grian’s kiss. 

Scar was complaining in the background. He said he wanted to kiss Mumbo first, why didn’t Grian ever listen to him, and Grian broke away to yell at him for that — Grian was not the one who never listened to his partner! — so Scar swept in and kissed Mumbo gently on the cheek. 

The sounds of Mumbo combusting have never been so satisfying.

“You know what? This was a pretty good reunion.”

"he's just... lame but in a virgin kind of way?" (dl) marinette explains, grasping at straws.

"no. honestly, you've lost me," (dl) adrien deadpans, snapping his book closed and settling back into his chair. "what does that mean?"

"luka is just... lame."

"i think he's good looking."

"oh, he is. but in a virgin way."

her favorite past time with adrien is window shop with him, both of them chattering over tea or wine or extremely expensive caviar that she doesn't bother looking at the price for. being bisexual is so heavenly, especially when adrien is just as eager to browse with her with the same amount of enthusiasm. when they're at their favorite breakfast place, a pret-a-manger that skews slightly sappy with the heart motifs and turquoise stamping on the walls, conversation sings between them both. adrien isn't a morning person like she is, but he makes the effort to join her, just so they can have their date.

she loves dating two people at once.

usually, luka's the one who joins her in rundown hole-in-the-walls, gazing at her with a sappy smile and an equally sappy expression lingering in his eyes as she eats a very non chocolate savoury crepe.

on the off days where she has a date with adrien in the mornings, she gets him out the door before he's able to nose into his sunglasses and hide.

and of course, when the two of them have their date, it's always a tossup for what they end up doing. luka never has a preference. adrien is always too worried he's overimposing on the angel to actually pick.

"so," adrien murmurs, soft and sweet and sinful, "what exactly are you talking about?"

"(sas) luka is just... a virgin."

adrien laughs. "work with me, here. there's already a marinette that talks in circles, i can't do it with two."

"don't be mean!" she scolds, laughing along with him. "awh, i thought you liked her."

"oh, i do." he steals a bite of her gorgeous tart with far too much passion fruit coating. he's smart enough to hide the way his teeth sing from the taste with a pink tongue against his fangs. "i think she's so interesting."

"just 'interesting'?" she teases, hiding a smile into her juice.

"what do you mean?"

"she's tiny."

his eyes narrow. "i wouldn't."

"you can."

"it's an ethical issue. she's not technically my girlfriend."

"i'd fuck myself whole-heartedly," she argues plainly, giving a shrug. the waiter across from them in the small cafe, busy putting silverware down, pretends he's not paying attention. "there are no complaints from me. i think the only ethical issue i would have personally is that if i'm not quick enough, i might treat her like my daughter instead of... me. and then that's where it would get into the danger, do-not-pass-go zone. and you, my loving little baby boy, do not shut up when you think of something you like."

adrien pinks. "she's... cute," he tacks on, no doubt getting a feedback loop as she herself thinks about all the scenes he'd unknowingly fed her throughout the few hours they've been in contact with the new crew. "i like the way she scrunches her nose the same way you do when she doesn't like something. and she does the same thing you do; pretending to be absolutely stupid even though she's probably the smartest, just to disarm people."

"if you'd like to find out just how cute she can be, i won't be stopping you."

"but what exactly about the new luka makes you think he's lame?"

"i don't know. he's lame in the same way you're just a baby boy to me."

"so it's personality?"

"for lack of a better word, i'd say 'vibes'?" it's a quizzical conundrum for sure. "you don't have the personality of an actual baby, but i see you and i think about how much i want to—" the words have you suck on my tits hangs in the air like a veil, and though she doesn't have to say it, adrien's pupils dilate in the silence. "anyway, i feel like luka just has a backbone of a wet napkin."

"maybe adrien has him wrapped around his finger," her adrien laughs.

wow, yeah. adrien has a point. "you know? that's kind of hot."

"yeah, not something you'd expect, for sure. our luka can pretend that he's not more top-leaning than switch-leaning, sure, but this younger one definitely shows off his... helplessness more."

"i don't even know how."

"i think i'd like to see him try to top."

"interesting."

"i think it might make him break out of his shell."

"go on?" she goads, tapping her nails with impatience as adrien sips out of his coffee cup.

"maybe he's a lame virgin cause no one's put out in the way he likes."

"just a reminder that he is a virgin."

oh, there's a fire in his eyes. "really?"

"you thought they were joking last night?"

"i can't exactly know that for sure, unlike you," he teases. "how about this. you and i crack him open."

"you let him top you and i'll top him?" oh, this poor creature. this helpless man will never survive. "is this a good idea? i don't think i should drain him out."

"then don't."

she makes a face. "but that's not fun."

"you're a grown woman," he muses, hiding a smirk in the way he chews his croissant. heated glances to her chest say much, much more than the giant pockets of silence. "you can hold yourself back."

"but he's cute," she pouts, scrunching her nose. "and i really like him."

"if you hold back, i'll let you baby me for a whole week. whole baby like i always say no to."

"oh, deal."

OCs as Siken Poems

Tagged awhile ago by @statichvm to take this little uquiz for some ocs. Apologies for the time it took as your girl only took screenshots and not copying text directly 🙃 Anyway sending a few tags out to @belorage @florbelles @heroofpenamstan @unholymilf @confidentandgood @jackiesarch @strafethesesinners @themarcspector @indorilnerevarine @adelaidedrubman and anyone else that wants to do it! Formatted so the line from the poem that fits them is first before the result description.

Hayat Kahdemi (The Wayhaven Chronichles)

The Torn Up Road

There, on the ground, slipping through the minutes,/trying to notch them. Like taking the same picture over and over, the spaces in between sealed up/Knocked hard enough to make the record skip/and change its music, setting the melody on its/forward course again, circling and circling the center hole in the flat black disk./And words, little words,/words too small for any hope or promise, not really soothing/but soothing nonetheless.

“I want to tell you this story without having to confess anything.” poem about having a hard time, the kind of hard time where you don’t want anybody to see you like this, but somebody is seeing you like this. and somebody is doing everything they can to help you but you are reckless and they are young and you both are just trying to get through it one day at a time.

Stasia (VA/Bloodlines, FFXIV)

Saying Your Names

His voice on tape, his name on the envelope, the soft sound of a body falling off a bridge behind you, the body hardly even makes a sound. The waters of the dead, a clear road, every lover in the form of stars, the road blocked. All night I stretched my arms across him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing with all my skin and bone Please keep him safe. Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed to pieces. 

“I came to tell you we’ll swim in the water / we’ll swim like something sparkling underneath the waves.” this is the poem I send excerpts of to the people I love. when I read this poem is makes me cry because it reminds me of the beautiful things in the world and also the beautiful things of love.

Anthea (FFXIV)

Straw House Straw Dog

Four dreams in a row, four dreams in a row, four dreams in a row,/fall down right there. I wanted to fall down right there but I knew/you wouldn’t catch me/because you're dead. I swallowed crushed ice/pretending it was glass and you're dead. Ashes to ashes./You wanted to be cremated so we cremated you and you wanted an adventure/so I ran and I knew you wouldn’t catch me./You are a fever I am learning to live with, and everything is happening/at the wrong end of a very long tunnel.

“I don’t really blame you for being dead but you can’t have your sweater back.” this is a poem about grief, a poem about loss. poem that makes you think about how people leave you but you still have everything you’ve ever known about them and you don’t know what to do about that.

Siberite Akagane (FFXIV)

I Had a Dream About You

In these dreams it’s always you: the boy in the sweatshirt, the boy on the bridge, the boy who always keeps me from jumping off the bridge. Oh, the things we invent when we are scared and want to be rescued/Your jeep. Your teeth. The coffee that you bought me. The sandwich cut in half on the plate. I woke up and ate ice cream in the dark, hunched over on the wooden chair in the kitchen, listening to the rain. I borrowed your shoes and didn’t put them away.

surrealist dream piece but in a very homoerotic and fluorescent lit way. reminds me of going to waffle house at three am with my friends, or late night road trips. about the idealization of the good wild moments you have with people you love but also about the harshness of living outside of those moments. also kind of about crime, which I think is sexy.

gongzhiweek2022 day 4: rock band 💚💛💚

“Their new drummer is running late,” Tianlang-lang says around the skinny black straw trapped between his molars. He's been chewing on it while waiting for Zhuzhi-lang to return with new drinks and uses his tongue to shift it to the other side of his mouth as he takes two cups from Zhuzhi-lang with a single hand, fingers twisting into an interesting configuration to keep from spilling anything. “Xiyan says the kid is good though.”

Zhuzhi-lang had nearly been late himself. The unassuming venue Su Xiyan's band is playing at tonight is hardly more than a hole in the wall. Standing room only. And the doorways are not built for those of his height; he and Tianlang-jun had to bend their necks in order to enter the small dressing room backstage to give a quick hello to Binghe and Su Xiyan, then again to slide back into the rapidly filling audience area.

Zhuzhi-lang takes a tentative sip of his mocktail. It tastes overwhelmingly of artificial melon. Not ideal but he really just ordered it because it’s bright green. He’s not a big fan of crowds so he’s hoping his favorite color puts him at ease. Tianlang-jun will undoubtedly ditch him at some point and then Zhuzhi-lang will be free to find a corner to slink into and pretend he’s a very tall, strangely shaped wall decoration holding a mostly full cup of something that honestly might be radioactive.

He leans closer to ask if Tianlang-jun wants a third drink even though it’s nonalcoholic—his uncle loves strong flavors—but before he gets the chance, someone knocks against his side. The drink spills over his hand and drips down his wrist.

“Sorry, sorry!” It’s difficult to determine where the apology comes from with so many people packed together in the dimness. The voice sounds like a young man, loud and harried. Kind of familiar… “I really have to get through, excuse me! So sorry!”

“Nephew, did you see—oh, dear. You are incredibly sticky.” Tianlang-jun removes the hand he had only just placed on Zhuzhi-lang’s forearm. He wipes it off on a dry part of Zhuzhi-lang’s shirt.

“It’s not my fault.” Zhuzhi-lang can feel his cheeks heat. He’s thankful for the low lighting; his face is always so quick to show embarrassment. And now he’ll be covered in syrupy residue all night. If he ever finds the person who bumped into him…

The lights flash, then go dark. The band must be ready to perform. The crowd cheers as Su Xiyan takes the stage, her son and his boyfriend a few beats behind her. And then—

Gongyi Xiao, the new drummer, smiles brightly and waves at the audience with both hands. He’s cute. Objectively. Zhuzhi-lang only ran into him briefly yesterday when Su Xiyan needed something dropped off at the studio, but he remembers those pretty dark eyes and that excitable energy.

“Hi, everyone! Sorry I was late!”

Zhuzhi-lang’s eyes widen.

Oh.

No wonder his voice sounded familiar. Zhuzhi-lang squints up at him, trying to hold onto the grudge from a moment ago, but it’s impossible once the band begins to play. Gongyi Xiao is absolutely incredible.

Zhuzhi-lang forgets about the tacky feeling of still-drying drink coating his hand, but he will never forget Gongyi Xiao.

survey #003

(from the 27th)

Who knows you better than anyone else? My mom. Would you ever want to go to Brazil? Yeah, sure. How did your parents meet each other? They were coworkers. What profession do you think is the most under-appreciated? Teachers. To a depressing degree. Are there any medical conditions that run in your family? Oh Jesus, a lot, including diabetes, high blood pressure + high cholesterol, cancer, pretty sure depression, and uhhh I know there's more, but I'm blanking rn. In your opinion, what is the most toxic personality trait? Gaslighting, probably. Manipulative behavior as a whole. What band has the best guitar solos? I gotta hand it to my babes Metallica. Where is your favorite place to take a nap? My bed. Who is the biggest jerk you’ve ever met? Colleen. I still have trouble putting together how the hell I called her my best friend when she was just mean, to everyone. Have you ever swerved off the road to avoid hitting an animal? I have never been in that situation and I pray to GOD I never am. I would have an absolute and total breakdown if I hit an animal. What’s a tradition you hope never dies out? Um idk, I gotta admit I don't care about tradition much. Have you ever grown your own herbs? No. Do you read the nutrition labels on the packaged food you buy? Usually not, admittedly. What were some of your favorite classes you took in high school? My absolute favorites were Art and German, but Mythology was also very fun. Have you ever gone through a bad breakup? lmao take a seat, my friend Do you believe in Jesus? I'm pretty sure it's a documented fact he existed, but I don't believe in his miracles. Has anyone ever used a cheesy pickup line on you? Maybe at some point. Are you hard of hearing? I hear volume fine, but I do have some sort of auditory processing issue where I have trouble understanding what people are saying a lot because their words just sound like a jumble of letters. Would you ever want a statue made of you? omg no, one of this body is enough. When did you last go for a run? Dear lord, I don't go on runs. The last time I ran was in fuckin high school gym lmao How many bones have you broken in your life? One in my wrist. Where are you currently? I'm at the desk in the spare room. Do you have any cats? I have one spoiled brat, lol. What’s your favorite love song? I've had a soft spot for "When It's Love" by Van Halen since HS; I even wanted it to be my first dance song for maaany years. Still might be. Have you ever had vertigo? Yes, I actually had a decently long streak of experiencing it regularly to where I had medicine to take for it. Has your house ever been robbed? No, but a gang did try to break into my childhood home when Ashley and her friend were home alone, and god only knows what they might have done. That memory just chills me to the goddamn core, knowing my big sister could have died that day. I'm pretty sure that was the straw that broke the camel's back and led to us moving. Have you done a breathing exercise recently? Uhhhh I think I may have done heavy breathing recently to calm down over something? idr What food/drink did you last waste? Awhile back, Ma and Nicole made a chicken dinner that I just did not like. Felt bad throwing it away. If you have a partner, do you have a song? I have no idea if he considers us having one, but "I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire" by The Ink Spots can make me tear up because he sang it to me once when we were cuddling in bed and it come on his music player lasdkjfk;alwj;wej;qiwjefroiwqer Have you ever dug a hole? What for? Yes, as well as tunnel systems bc I liked to pretend to be a meerkat lmaooo I was a weird kid Have you ever fainted? What from? Yeah; I've told the story enough, so I'll just share the doctor's theory: dehydration and being in a shower that was too hot (and thus humid) when I was barely conscious. Do you know a Chelsea? I in fact do, she's Colleen's younger sister. Got along with her a thousand times more than Colleen. I should catch up with her. She's a mom now. :') Are you currently barefoot? Yeah, we don't wear shoes in the house. Do you think you look better with long hair or short? Oh, ABSOLUTELY short. You couldn't pay me to go back to long hair. He likes my hair now, but Girt would actually love to see me with really long hair again and I was just like NOPE SORRY SIR What have you found to be the best remedy for nausea? Take medicine. I do NOT handle nausea well, so I go for that quick. Do you prefer black tea, green tea, or herbal tea? I hate tea. Have you ever been to one of your teacher’s houses? A few, yes. I know there's my 2nd/5th (I had the same instructor) grade teacher, as well as my 4th, for reasons I can't entirely remember. Then there's Miss Tobey, my high school physical science teacher, who is now literally our landlord, lmao. She's pretty much family. Have you ever been on a missions trip? No, because I'd much rather not spread the glorious word of a deity who either doesn't hear or doesn't care. Does your mom sew? She knows how to. What is your favorite type of tree? I love wisterias and weeping willows. Giant sequoia trees are also just absolutely breathtaking; I'd love to see one irl. OH, one more: rainbow eucalyptus. What an aesthetic. What are three of your favorite country songs? "When the Stars Go Blue" by Tim McGraw, "Travelin' Soldier" by The (Dixie) Chicks, and uhhh "My Wish" by Rascal Flatts, maybe. Maybe something by Carrie Underwood's up there. I don't exactly remember a lot of country songs. Have you ever drawn a picture of a skull? Yeah. Have you ever found a mouse in your house? Yeah, we had 'em sometimes when we lived in the woods. What is your favorite zoo animal? Meerkats, of course. I also think seeing the polar bears is extremely cool (when kept in adequate conditions, of course), just because it's such an environmental contrast. And they're SO BIG. How many times have you been stung by a bee in your life? Once, at least I'm quite sure I was stung. Me nor Mom could find the stinger in my pants leg, so perhaps it was just some random pain that happened while a bee was nearby, idk. Do you like ducks? Yeah man, little waddle bois Are you afraid of snakes? Not at all. I have a pet snake, want more, and want to eventually be able to herp primarily for snakes, haha. Are you afraid of spiders? I'm more uncomfortable around them than snakes, but I'm not horribly scared of them; they startle me more than anything. Like, if I suddenly noticed a massive spider on me, I'd certainly spaz out. If I am aware of one's presence, though, I actually enjoy seeing the lil guys. Tarantulas, however, I just flat-out adore. Big hairy negative one brain cell babies. Would you rather own a poodle or a chihuahua? We actually have a chihuahua, even though it wasn't a breed Mom nor I particularly wanted. It was a rescue sort of thing, and don't get me wrong, we all adore her. If I had to choose between the two though, I would definitely favor a standard poodle, they're pretty. Who is your favorite superhero? I don't have strong feelings on superheroes, but I've always liked Spider-Man in the movies I have by chance seen. Deadpool too, but he's an anti-hero. Are you flexible? Those days are LOOOOONG over, my friend. Can you throw a football? I've never been able to correctly. What were three of your favorite things to do during recess when you were a kid? Go on the swings, dig tunnel systems in the sandbox with friends, and play 4-Square on the basketball court. Have you ever ridden a horse? Only ever at fairs or similar events. Looking back I feel so bad for those horses. Did the home you grew up in have a doorbell? Wow, I actually don't remember. I don't believe it did. Does your current home have a doorbell? Yes. Have you ever driven a race car? No, not interested. What was the last artsy thing you did? A few days agao I started drawing, but i didn't get far due to my tremors being so goddamn insufferable. Everything was just messy. Have you ever taken piano lessons? No. Name someone you know who can play the saxophone. I don't think I do know anyone. Have you ever been in a band? I was in the middle + high school band. Have you ever bowled a strike? Yes. Oh my god, story time: the first time Girt and I tried dating, our first date was the bowling alley. I prepare for absolute decimation by saying I am going to suck. First roll, fucking strike. I think Girt just about walked away. I was absolutely cackling alsdijfaliwe it is to this day one of the funniest things that's ever happened to me. I sucked the entire rest of the day btw, lmaoooo. What is your current favorite video game? It doesn't mattere what day it is, my two faves will always and forever be Silent Hill 2 and Shadow of the Colossus. What are three baby names your friends have used that you like? There's Peresphone, Scarlett, and Jaspen. This isn't an easy question for me to answer 'cuz most of my (old) friends used ridiculously southern names that make me want to gag. Are you allergic to peanuts? No. Are you superstitious? No. Do you own a Magic 8-Ball? I used to growing up. What color is your Christmas tree? I want to say it's a dark shade of green. I am dying for a black one with faux frost and snow when I have my own place. Do you ever listen to CDs anymore? No. What are three medications that you take every day? Three out of too many consist of Lithium, Clomipramine, and Bupropion. Have you had COVID? I have not. Have you ever ridden in an ambulance? No. Where was the last place you flew on a plane? Back home from Illinois. Cupcakes or donuts? Both are bangin', but god do I love donuts. Have you ever gone sledding in the snow? I have! I think in Ohio when I was very young, we went to some BIG ol' hills to slide down, and also at an old house where there was a slope by the winding road, we (me, sisters, and neighbors) played around there. I can't even remember what we used. Have you ever ridden in a taxi? No. Have you ever seen a leech in person? Omg yes and I hate them. Parasitic creatures as a whole just creep me the fuck out. What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned in the past year? Probably that sometimes the little drops of good feelings you get out of something that is primarily hurtful ain't worth it. AKA, sometimes you have to let toxic people go, no matter how much you love them, if you want to care for yourself. Do you own any tiny versions of larger things? Maybe? What are two things you’d tell your child self that you wish you would’ve known then? 1.) Don't turn to religion/God for answers, and 2.) keep fucking pushing and keep faith in herself and her own strength, because look at us, we got through it all. Did you used to play hopscotch? Yes. What’s the first letter of your best friends name? Technically "D." Do you have anything monogrammed? I do know I have a traveling bag with my name on it from my childhood; my sisters had one, too. I also have some jewelry with "B"s on it, I know, and I think that's it? Monogrammed stuff isn't something I seek out or even like much. Did you sleep well last night? Once I was able to fall asleep, yes. I hadn't even wanted to go to bed, but to be healthy I forced myself. Took a while to knock out, but I got there. When is the last time you checked your mail? I'm gonna check it now, actually. So I was trying to change my primary blog on Tumblr right, and I think I fell for a scam code and accidentally terminated my account lmao and they better give it back lsdjkfal;wekjal;kewjr Do you have strong opinions about religion? Oh, I sure fucking do. Are there any popular dance moves you are good at? No, I don't dance. Have you ever seen a flash mob in person? No. Have you ever struggled with acne? As a teenager, yes. I distinctly remember noticing it was majorly chilling out when I was in the shower in NY at my uncle's place using my Biore scrub. I was like... 19, I want to say. Did you enjoy High School Musical when it was a thing? I wasn't crazy about it, but it was fine. It was my lil sis who was obsessed and is the only real reason I'd even seen it. Do you know anyone who has a crush on you? I wouldn't call it just a "crush." Do you have any outdoor allergies? Yep, pollen. Have you ever joined a moshpit? Omg no, I am absolutely not into the idea of those. You're literally just hurting each other?????? like why???? What cover do you think is better than the original song? The first that comes to mind is Disturbed's version of "The Sound of Silence," originally by Simon & Garfunkel. Would you ever like to learn belly dancing? NO. Even if I had a nice stomach, still no. I'd be too self-conscious. What’s one of your favorite memories related to an animal? Oh god, there are simply so many. I'll tell the story of Ike, though, because he truly made me feel special. At the Sylvan Heights Bird Sanctuary, the male Abyssinian ground hornbill - Ike - bonded with me. He came right over to the fence and let me pet him, just chilling there for what was a really long time. One of the employees said she'd never seen him do this before. It was honestly so magical, and if I remember accurately, he wasn't too happy when I had to pull myself away from him, haha. I will always cherish the pictures and video I got of him and his mate Rosie. I still wonder a lot if he's still alive. Do you suffer from any mental illnesses? A lot, although with an entirely new doctoral team examining my mental health, some diagnoses are being reconsidered. The lead doc has said it's just very unlikely I actually have as many conditions as I've been diagnosed with and that they may just be overlapping symptoms, which is very true. Have you ever had to have a tooth cut out? Nope.

Tipsy | Huang Renjun

Pairing: Huang Renjun x Reader

Summary: Your crush Renjun gets drunk every night. One night, you decide you’re done looking after him… just when he needs you the most.

Genre: College AU, angsty and sexy 

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Heavy drinking, hospitals

Gif: @jack-antonoff

Love wasn’t a word you used to describe your feelings for Huang Renjun. Instinct was better. You knew you needed him the same way you knew you needed food, or water. Nobody had to tell you; the yearning came from deep inside.  

“Jesus, Renjun, get off of there!” you shrieked.

Renjun had somehow managed to stand on his desk chair as it spun around, his arms flailing about like he was a trapeze artist. 

“Look Y/n! I’m flyyyyinnnnggg….”

Your heart clutched the same way it always did when Renjun was in danger. Grabbing Renjun’s waist you hoisted him onto the ground. 

“Hey!” Renjun said, blinking too slowly. “Why’dya always ruin my fun?”

You sighed. “Because you’re drunk. Remember?” 

The smell of vodka oozed out of Renjun’s every pore. This was a regular scene. Every night, after raiding Manchester’s bars with his good-for-nothing uni friends, Renjun ended up here – and you had to look after him. 

You could never pinpoint when it had started. The sixth sense that always told you when Renjun was near. The yawning hole inside you that only his smile could fix. The voice inside your head, constantly worrying that he’d crashed his car, or broken his wrist, or done something else dumb while drunk. 

You lifted up the glass of water, put a swirly pink straw into it, and pushed it into Renjun’s mouth. “Drink.” 

Once he had obediently finished, you looked him sternly in the eye. “You know what comes next, Junnie.”

Renjun spluttered, “No! I object! My father will have you arrested!” 

But he knew there was no use complaining. So, Renjun let his body go floppy as you laid him down on the floor in the recovery position, a pile of pillows holding up his back.

Ever since that night in Fresher’s Week, when you found Renjun floating face-up in the pool and carried him on your back to his room, you’d not been able to leave him. 

And maybe it would all be worth it… if you knew he felt the same way. But when you saw Renjun in the daytime, he pretended not to know you, like he was embarrassed of you or something. That was what really stung. 

Today, Renjun was acting weird. “You’re…so… paranoid!”

You usually ignored him, but his words flared up something inside you. 

“Paranoid?” you snapped. “I’m the one barely managing to keep you alive as you self-destruct every night! Do you know what you’re doing to your liver?” 

Even though Renjun had curled his legs into his chest like a baby, you couldn’t stop to check on him. You had to get this out. 

“Do you think I like this? Do you think I want to sit here, every night, trying to stop you from choking on your own vomit?” You couldn’t stop if you wanted to – all your suppressed feelings were exploding out. Renjun had fallen silent for a while now. Maybe he was finally listening to you.

“I haven’t been out one night this year. When I’m not looking after you, I’m either falling asleep or struggling to catch up with all the work I missed because I was snoring in class!”

You scoffed. “You can bloody well clean up your own mess from now on.” 

Then you turned, grabbed your backpack, and stormed out of Renjun’s door. 

---

As you walked down his hallway with its flickering half-moon lamps, you expected to feel a sense of freedom. Finally, you were taking your life back. 

Instead, all you felt was a sense of dread. Had Renjun’s teeth been chattering as you spoke – or did you imagine that? Actually, why did he fall silent? 

What if Renjun… died? No. That would never happen. Would it? 

You felt a murderous itch to run back to his dorm room. 

No. If you helped him now, you were chaining yourself to another year of being Renjun’s babysitter. 

After a moment of worrying, you turned around and sprinted down the hallway, towards his room. 

---

Renjun woke up to find himself in a dingy white hospital room, tubes stuck up his arm and a blue leaflet labelled ‘Binge Drinking’ on the side table. He had no idea how he got here. Usually, he would be making a fuss about being put in a commoner’s hospital – the guy was basically Chinese royalty – but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

He was shocked to realise that the only thing on his mind was you. 

You. 

Usually, he couldn’t care less about other people’s feelings or safety. Heck, he was the one in the hospital bed! Yet, for some strange reason, the only thing he was worried about was where you were. 

Did you know he was here? The last time he saw you, you were storming off into the dark, rainy night. Alone. You could have been run over by a truck, or your phone died, or you got lost in the night. The shape of you seemed to hover in the air beside him, a silhouette with white-hot, painful edges. 

The nurse turned to face him. “You’re awake. How’s the pain?” 

Renjun’s head was on fire, but the only pain he cared about was in his heart. “Where is she?” he interrupted.

The nurse chuckled. “You mean your girlfriend? You’re really meant to be, eh?” 

Renjun frowned. Girlfriend? He felt a silly little spark of excitement at the word. He wanted to hear it again. At least ten times. 

The nurse continued, “If she hadn’t called the ambulance when she did, you’d be in some big trouble.” She shook her head. “You’re a lucky boy. We told her you would be just fine, but she still cried all night. First, she cried because you wouldn’t wake up – then she cried because you did wake up!”

The nurse sighed. “She’s probably somewhere here, still crying.” 

Renjun looked out the wide window to his left, at the rain streaming down it. He heard a boom of thunder, and shivered. 

Were you really crying… for him? He suddenly felt guilt squeeze his stomach, hot and tight. You’d saved his life, again and again. And all you got in return was Renjun ignoring you. Because he was too bloody embarrassed to admit to his friends that he was a lightweight. 

“Wait!” Renjun called. “Did… anyone else come to visit?” 

The nurse sighed, putting her hands on her hips. “Your girl called just about every number on your phone, but… no one replied.” 

Renjun looked down. So much for best friends, eh? 

Then, he remembered something. He wasn’t alone. There was one person who had been there for him tonight. You. 

--- The glass hospital doors threw out a pool of golden light into the stormy night. As Renjun shuffled out, he saw you! You were leaning on the red handle of the wheelchair ramp, soaked from the icy rain. 

He shuffled up behind you, and you turned. Your face was red and puffy, and you quickly wiped away your tears with your thick grey coat sleeve. 

It hurt Renjun to see you like this. This was all his fault. 

You hurried up to him. “What are you doing out here? It’s-its’ too soon for you to get out of bed!” 

Renjun just smiled. “What about you? Do you want to catch a cold?”

You shook your head angrily, stepping forward to grab his arm. The contact rippled up Renjun’s arm, like an electric shock. “This isn’t funny. You- you could’ve died tonight.”

“Why didn’t you just leave me there? I was an absolute asshole,” Renjun said.

“I wanted to leave, trust me.” You looked to the side, playing with your coat sleeve. “But… I couldn’t just let you die, could I?” 

Renjun stared at your beautiful, tear-streaked face, smiling. Even when he treated you like trash, you were there for him. When no one else was. 

You looked Renjun in the eyes, hard. “You have to promise me you’ll try and give it up, okay? For real, this time. I might be here now, but in the future, you’ll be all-“

He interrupted you, by bending down and pressing his lips against yours. 

Renjun had kissed a lot of girls. It was common knowledge that Huang Renjun could pull anyone, anytime. But he wasn’t prepared for the reaction that your lips created in his body. It was like he was covered in a thousand matches, and you were setting each one on fire.  

In that moment, he forgot all of his perfectly refined technique. He was powerless; all he could do was pray that your mouth would stay connected to his for one more second. The heady taste of your lips, salted by your tears, attacked him. 

Your hands clasped his back, pulling him in, and he wished that every inch of his body could be pressed against yours. Your damp hair coiled around his fingers and dripped down his wrists, but he could barely feel the cold. He was heated up from the inside.  

When you broke the kiss, he found his mouth chasing yours for a second, making you laugh. Renjun’s cheeks burned. He’d never been desperate before. To be honest, he’d never kissed a girl sober before. It was insane. He ought to try it more often…

“Knew it,” you said, biting the corner of your lip and grinning in the most beautiful way. “Knew you had it bad for me.” 

Renjun couldn’t even be bothered to come up with a witty comeback. He just laughed. “Y/n.” He paused. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You scoffed, but he saw the way the corners of your mouth turned up at his words. “Go on inside. You can ask me again when you’re not pumped up with enough meds to kill a horse.”

Renjun grinned, and let you guide him inside. 

Sure, he would ask you again. And again. And again. Because now, he was determined to be there for you the same way you’d been there for him. He, Huang Renjun, was in love with you. 

And he would wait as long as you wanted. 

—

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if it's not rough, it isn't fun - Rafe Cameron

Author’s Note:

I came across this on tiktok and now I can’t stop thinking about it lol. Also, i’m not that good at writing smut so sorry if I didn’t give the justice this story deserves.

Story Reference: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSJwNm3Jf/

Warning: contains, swearing, SMUT, degrading, violence, gun in the head

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Disclaimer: If you’re uncomfortable with this please don’t read!!

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I know Rafe has a loaded pistol in his room. Ward gave it to him when he was 14, this was in case he’s not around and he can protect Rose and his sisters. I joke around sometimes that it would be so hot if he would point the gun to me but he stops me and he says that I’m crazy and that I have a dark humor.

I was so busy with work and he’s busy with the things that his dad asked him to do that we haven’t had sex in weeks. I was craving for him, so I went to the country club where Rafe was golfing with his friends. I wore my shortest skirt and cropped polo to complete the outfit. I texted him to meet me on the other side of the golf course where there’s no people around.

“and what brings you here love?” he asked as he kissed my cheek.

“Nothing, I just want to play and to see you.” I said as I fixed my stance before hitting the ball with the club. Sadly, it did not go through the hole. I was about to get another ball when I remembered that I didn’t wear any panties to tease Rafe, so I went over the ball, I can feel him watching me. So I bent over and felt the cold breeze hit my core.

His eyes grew and he tried to cough so I looked at him, still bent down,

“Why baby? What’s wrong?” I asked while smiling.

He walks over me and now he’s hovering me. I tried to push my ass against him and heard him groaned. I stood up and pretended it was nothing. I continued to play and bent down a couple times to get the ball and Rafe just stood there watching me. His friends came over and started talking to him, his eyes still focused on me. The wind blew a little bit harder making my skirt go up, luckily his friends weren’t looking but that was his final straw, he told them that Ward called him and he needs to go back to their house, he grabbed me and we started walking out of the club and in to his car.

The drive on the way to their house is quiet. I tried to tease him by putting my hands on his thigh but he removed it. We reached to the house, I looked at him he said coldly

“Go to my room, ass up in the middle of the bed.”

I nodded and walked inside going up to his room. I heard his footsteps in the stairs making my heart beat faster. I jumped a little when the door unlocked. He closed the door and locked it. He goes to his closet and opens a drawer. He walks closer to the bed and felt a very cold sensation and something like metal going down my back, I moaned and rolled my hips back. He whispers in my ear,

“Don’t fucking move or I swear to God”

“Who said you were allowed to walk around the country club wearing nothing?”

“I can wear whatever the hell I want.” I sulked.

“You wanted to let everyone know what a slut you are huh?”

He kneels down in the bed, facing my core as he spits and spread my folds. I whimpered a little bit to his touch, he inserted a finger causing me to moan, he shoved two more fingers and curled it up inside of me.

“oh Rafe, your fingers feel so fucking good.” I moaned.

“Shut up, I didn’t say you were allowed to make a noise” he said as he remove his fingers and flips my body. He stood up the bed and told me to follow. I walked up to him and he said “On your knees”.

I knelt down looking at his hard cock hitting my nose. He grabbed his cock and put it inside my mouth making him roll his yes and groan. I looked at his cock and looked back at him and saw his gun pointed at my head.

“Suck you fucking bitch” he said as he pushed my head to his cock.

“You like that? you like the fucking gun in your face?”

“Yes Rafey” I winked and said in between breaths. He hated that nickname but I know it turns him on.

“I fucking hate that.” he said as he grabbed my face.

He removed his cock on my mouth and dragged me back to his bed. I leaned on the head board as he pointed the gun back to my head.

“Are you gonna shoot me with the fucking gun or are you too pussy to do it?” I said as I look at him.

“Don’t even try me, this is loaded you fucking slut.” he said and slapped his cock to my clit.

“Rafey please” I moaned and he spits on my entrance slowly thrusting making me adjust to his size.

“Stop.” he said in between breaths, thrusting in and out of me slowly.

“Why Rafey? It doesn’t turn you on?” I said as I run my hand through his chest down to his abs.

He thrusts deeper and faster making me squeal. I can feel my climax getting closer, he leans in and sucked my nipples making me scream,

“Oh fucking God Rafe I’m cumming” I screamed and wrapped my legs around his waist.

“Fucking cum on me princess.” He said as he’s almost close to his high.

“OHHHHHH FUCK RAFEEEEEE” I screamed and Rafe groaning mixing our juices together. He stood up and put the gun back to his closet.

He grabbed a towel and gave it to you and started cuddling you.

“I’m so sorry baby, it’s just I missed you and I was trying to spice things up, and you’ve said it before how hot–“ I interrupted him and said

“It’s okay baby, I still stand with my opinion, It’s fucking hot.” I kissed him and he said I was crazy.

We both laid down and fell asleep.

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I’m so sorry smut is not my forte but I hope you guys liked it :)

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