star4daisy

[star4daisy]

need everyone to understand the comedic potential of kevin day finding out his ex-situationship and celebrity crush are dating.

[star4daisy]

Average "best friend" sleepover, you know how it is

[star4daisy]

💌 barty and reg having their first kiss

I hate letters.

But you don't. So here I am, with a fucking piece of paper and a pen. A fountain pen at that!

I know you get in your head about dumb shit like this, so I need you to not freak out. I don't trust myself to see you and not kiss you the moment you are near me. But I need to say some things first, so please, read it all the way through.

I can't believe you're gay for me. But also, I like that you're gay for me.

Reg, I had been waiting to kiss you for so fucking long, it still feels like a dream. I don't want to fuck this up.

No, I don't think it was a mistake. No, your breath didn't stink. Yes, you are a good kisser. Yes, I want to kiss you again. No, it wasn't awkward. Yes, you said all the right things.

Yes, I love you.

Say something right after you read this, because I know how fast you read and once I give you this letter I will be able to tell exactly when you get to this point and if you say nothing then I will be the one freaking out.

-BCJ

P.S. Ignore the smudge, I wasn't crying, those are not tears. Leave me alone.

P.S. You look so pretty with swollen lips.

send me a 💌 with a character and situation and i'll write a letter or a cute note from that pov

[star4daisy]

the dichotomy of girlhood

[star4daisy]

kevin is a technical player bc he likes having control over his game the way he never had over his own life. he likes knowing that he’s the best bc he earned it, likes knowing his skill is something no one can take away from him. not even riko

neil is an instinctive player bc he’s been living his whole life off of instincts; he knows when to run, when to duck, when to lie, how to spot weaknesses and exits all in a split second. it’s only natural he plays his game like this too

[star4daisy]

i saw you and your male friend across the bar and noticed you're extremely weird about each other in various platonic and/or romantic ways Mind if i obsereve

[star4daisy]

[star4daisy]

kevin would not have sent me here if you were.

[star4daisy]

Laney!!!!!!!! trick or treat ✨

hi kay <33 so i may have gone a bit insane and written you a full jarty microfic so…. here’s that

the alley | jarty microfic | 1.1k | nsfw | fighting, fucking, blood, spit, general grossness

It’s because of the hole at the bottom of Barty’s stomach that he keeps coming back. An insatiable need to consume. A relentless ache. And he’s never been one to deny himself anything, even when saying no would be so much easier.

James Potter sits across the dingy, low-lit bar, pint glass half empty and dripping condensation in front of him. It’s his fifth if Barty’s counting correctly. James glances at him, huffs a laugh and looks back at his beer. He knows what Barty’s planning, and he won’t stop it. He’ll play along like he always does, and they’ll both leave bloody and sore, covered in the indents of each other’s teeth.

Barty nurses his own drink until James drains his glass, then finishes the rest in one gulp. He’s already decided who’s paying for his next.

He’s been making eyes at some guy a few seats over from James the whole night, making sure James has noticed, and it’s time to go in for the kill. He raises his glass, catching the man’s attention, asking him sickly sweet with his eyes, buy me one?

The man moves down the bar next to Barty, asks the bartender to get him another, and Barty runs a hand up his arm.

“Sorry about this,” Barty whispers, leaning in to say the words directly into his ear.

The man pulls back, confused, only for a second before he’s being yanked back by his shirt and thrown to the ground. James is on him in a second with a fist to his jaw.

The man tries to protect his face, buck James off him, but it’s no use. When James gets like this, all you can do is take it. Barty would know.

After a few more strikes and the unmistakable sound of cracking bone, Barty intervenes. He wraps his arm around James’ neck from behind and pulls him off, cutting off his oxygen flow.

“You broke his fucking nose,” Barty says gruffly into James’ ear before pushing him toward the door.

James stumbles back, taking a few gulps of air before responding. “Whose fault is that?”

Barty shrugs, bares his teeth in a crude imitation of a smile. “Aw come on now, Jamie. Let’s not play the blame game.” He punctuates it with a wild punch to James’ cheek. He feels the skin split on impact, registers the trickle of blood down his fist only a second before James returns with a punch of his own straight to Barty’s gut. He doubles over, clutching at his stomach.

It’s grounding, the feeling of having all the air forced out of his lungs. He craves this over and over again. That blissful emptiness before his body forces him to suck the air back in. He can barely manage it before James’ knee connects with his nose, knocking him back and on his ass.

He tastes metallic as he runs his tongue along his teeth, smiles through the pain.

Glancing up, he can see James is being dragged out by two huge guys, but he isn’t fighting. Barty waits his turn, until he, too, is being hauled up and out the door.

The cold air bites into Barty’s skin as soon as he’s thrown outside. He loses his balance with the force of the push, catching himself on the concrete with his hands. He’ll have nasty scratches for days.

“Jesus fucking christ,” James says from above him, yanking him up and pushing him against the nearest brick wall. “You’re sick, you know that?”

Barty’s vision blurs, he can’t tell left from right, but he can tell James is mad mad. The kind of mad only Barty can make him.

“If I'm sick, what does that make you?” he taunts.

James lets out a noise of aggravation, deep and low in his throat, before he smashes their lips together.

It’s hungry and gross and bloody, a combination of want and disgust that equals out to some perverse replica of relief.

James breaks the kiss, dragging Barty behind him to the alley beside the bar. It already smells rotten and wet; they don’t even have to try.

It’s quick and disorienting, the way James shoves his hand down Barty’s pants, palming at his cock a little too harshly.

“Fuck,” Barty grunts, surprised by the sudden pressure. It’s riding that perfect line of too much and not enough.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” James growls. “Get me into a fight and now you want to complain?”

“My only complaint is that you’re not on your knees already,” Barty bites back, raking his teeth down James’ neck, breaking skin when he bites into the soft skin connecting it to his shoulder.

James honest to god whines, busying his hands with unzipping Barty’s pants. “Fuck, B.”

Barty pushes his thumb into the fresh wound, smearing the blood, mixing it with his own before licking a stripe up James’ neck. They always taste so good together like this. He hates how much he likes it.

James doesn’t waste time after that, sinking down and pulling Barty’s cock out. He takes him down to the base quickly, and Barty can feel his throat relaxing around him, struggling to take it all.

“That’s it, Jamie,” Barty coos, condescension dripping from his tongue. “So fucking eager.”

James pulls back, lightly scraping his teeth over Barty’s head in a way that makes him see stars. It’s a warning. This isn’t submission.

Barty grabs roughly at James’ hair, keeping him in place so he can fuck down his throat easily. He watches as James’ eyes stay defiant, never breaking contact. His fingers dig into the meat of Barty’s ass, no doubt leaving nail marks as he pulls Barty deeper with each thrust.

“I hate you so fucking much,” Barty spits with an exceptionally harsh thrust. James gags around him, eyes watering so pretty, tears streaking through smears of blood. Even still, he doesn’t break.

Barty knows James hates him too. It’s why he loves to say it when James can’t respond, can’t argue. He sees it in his eyes, though. That utter fucking disdain. It’s what ultimately has Barty pulling out and coming all over James’ face, painting him in an obscene mural of blood, spend, and tears.

James closes his eyes finally, but keeps his mouth open to catch what he can. Barty uses two fingers to swipe through the mess of fluids, bringing them to his own mouth to taste the sharp tang. He lets it sit on his tongue, mix with his own saliva before spitting it into James’ open mouth.

James swallows, always a little too eager to please, and sits back on his haunches. Barty can see where the dirty alley water has seeped into the knees of his jeans, but James doesn’t seem to care.

He looks up at Barty again, none of his rage extinguished. “When we get home, I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget your name.”

Barty just smiles. “I’d like to see you try.”

[star4daisy]

so this is where the bet about andreil that allison won started

[star4daisy]

“the only bond forbidden to parabatai is the romantic bond” ok so what i’m hearing is parabatai pairs can ABSOLUTELY fuck if they don’t love each other like that . did i get it right

[star4daisy]

Some rosekiller au sketches

[star4daisy]

losing my damn mind. "why break forever into measurable increments?" OF COURSE THEY MADE IT, NEITHER ONE HAD ANY DOUBT.

[star4daisy]

the only thing getting me through this first semester — december is the knowledge that book two of tsc is coming out. which means more canon jerejean moments. more cat and laila. more trojans. i must hold on until then…

[star4daisy]

[star4daisy]

andreil rlly shines when ppl realize that andrew is the normal one in the relationship. this is also why aaron was being psychologically tortured by neil (unknowingly) during all 3 books

[star4daisy]

every once in a while I remember that hannibal lecter would show up at crimes he committed and be like “girl WHO did that???”