#It’s purposely fuzzy like that because of smoke

[aheemaheemawhimper]

[avayarising]

DPxDC prompt: Here is the News

“You’re watching CDTV Now, and I’m Ace Atchinson with a special feature. Last week, the nation was shocked when a team of junior heroes affiliated with the Justice League apparently vandalised one of America’s most beloved national monuments.”

A short, jerky video plays, showing an explosion on a large stone face – one of four carved out of the side of a mountain. The smoke clears to reveal a large hole where the nose used to be. Several figures fly out of the stone and are caught by some sort of flying vehicle. It swoops across the mountain and away.

“With me live in the studio this afternoon are some of the members of Young Justice, here to tell us their side of the story. Superboy, Wonder Girl, Impulse – did you destroy Mount Rushmore?”

“Yeah, we did,” says the boy with black curly hair and a leather jacket over his brightly coloured hero suit. A bar appears across the bottom of the screen. Superboy, it says. Member of Young Justice. “On purpose, too.”

The girl, with stiff black hair and large square glasses, scowls in his direction. “We weren’t trying to destroy it,” she says as the camera closes in on her. The bar across the bottom of the screen now reads Wonder Girl and Member of Young Justice. “We were rescuing our friend.”

“She’s a ghost you see and the apes captured her and held her in this secret base –” The brown-haired boy in goggles stops when he is nudged by the girl beside him. The bar flickers for a moment to say Impulse before returning to Wonder Girl.

“OK, so, we need to go back, like, five steps here. There was a secret government base inside Mount Rushmore where they were conducting inhumane experiments on ghosts.”

The host laughs in a strained, nervous way. “Ghosts?” he asks.

They nod. “I’d like to introduce you to another member of our team,” says Wonder Girl. A mist forms behind her as she speaks, and swiftly coalesces into the form of a pale, slight girl, hovering behind the sofa. “Um,” she says nervously. “My name is – I mean, I go by – Secret, and… I’m a ghost.”

-––––

“Danny! Turn on CDTV now!”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it!”

–––––

“–torture and imprisonment, and she hadn’t even done anything! They’re just prejudiced against ghosts because they think they’re dangerous!”

“She is dangerous,’ says the black-haired boy proudly. The label Superboy appears on the screen again, in case anyone had forgotten. “She can shape-shift and go through walls and even possess people –”

“K– Superboy!” hisses Wonder Girl. “Not helping!”

“I’m right here,” says the ghost girl. The people who do the labels have obviously been hard at work, because she now has one too, saying Secret and Alleged ghost. “And I can do those things, but that doesn’t mean I want to hurt people or –”

There’s yelling from off camera, and a crash. A bolt of blue-white energy flies past the camera and the image whites out. There’s a scream, and a burst of static. The image returns, fuzzy and striated. Another bolt of energy. A large man wearing white rushes into view. Someone in green boots and a yellow and black cape lands on his head and knocks him down. A bang, and the image turns sideways as the camera crashes to the floor. The sound cuts out. There’s smoke, and running feet, and suddenly the side of the studio sofa, before another flash of blue-white light and the screen goes dead.

Nothing happens for almost a minute, and then the TV starts playing a rerun of the highlights of last week’s sports game.

––––––––

“Well, shit,” says Danny.

Superboy here is not in fact Kon but Match pretending to be Kon and trying to sabotage the team. Robin was hiding in the ceiling behind a lighting rig because Batman is going through one of his ‘we are cryptids’ phases and wouldn’t allow him to appear on screen. Anita hasn’t joined the team yet, which is good because her dad is one of the agents and it would have been awkward.

[poppy-metal]

i just saw your ask w angelplummie with daughters bsf art and respectfully i must ask your thoughts on dad’s bsf patrick

hhh gonna kill myself because imagine being arts daughter,,,,, growing up with patrick in your life hes like the fun uncle in your memories, dunking you in the pool, taking you on a ride in his truck, giving you noogies - it isn't long though before your thoughts aren't innocent anymore and he's not an uncle at all to you - he's a man. and you've watched him grow too, art being a teen dad - you remember him when he had no scruff on his chin - you watched him fill out - become more rugged, lose the boyish quality of his 20s and become the man you know today. hes still the same person at his core, impulsive, your fathers polar opposite in every way - fire to his ice.

your relationship shifts when you enter high-school. if only because you experience your first rebel streak. art is a good dad, but hes nervous and tight laced. the thought of you seeing boys or drinking and staying up late getting rowdy,,,,, it'd send him into cardiac arrest.

but you know patrick gets it. he was like you when he was your age, a free spirit. he still was, because thats not something that dies. and maybe that's how you develop feelings for him beyond that of a family friend. when you see a kinship there. a shared soul. you're soulmates, you're sure of it. meant to be. cut from the same cloth.

it happens in tenth grade. its not your first party but its the first time you get reckless. drink too much. things stop being as fun when boys grab at your hips and leer at you, and you feel sick. you want to go home but you know you cant call your dad. it'd break his heart to see you like this. the lecture alone would make pound against your head. you dont want to deal.

so you call patrick zweig. in your phone as 'Ricky 💗' only you were allowed to call him that. special. soulmates. he'll get it. hes been here, you're sure of it. and he wont tell. countless times he was drunk and lied to his parents about it, you bet.

you call him. he comes.

and you were right about the not telling but what you dont expect his quiet anger. you can feel it in the stillness of the car. when he pulls up to pick you up and his jaw is tight and hes tapping on the steering wheel. you think if you were more sober you'd care more about pissing him off. all you can think about is how pretty he looks in the moonlight.

"thank youuuu." you slur to him when you tumble in.

patrick flicks a look at you you're too drunk to decipher - he was smoking with his elbow propped outside the window while he waited for you. he flicks the ash out the window and turns the ignition on. "put your seatbelt on."

woah. thats gonna be a new fantasy, you think. that authoritative tone. you fumble with the belt, but your fingers look fuzzy and keep missing the hole. "no clicky." you complain.

patrick huffs and then he's leaning over his center console - his arm reaching over your body. it happens in slow motion in your head. you look down at his arm stretched out across your waist, notice the veins in his arms, the dusting of hair. thicker than when he was younger. filled out. your lips part.

he tugs the seatbelt from your fingers and clicks it into place. tugs the belt securely over your chest and his knuckles brush over your chest for the briefest moment. you inhale. exhale.

he pulls back. starts to pull out of the driveway. you say, "thank you." a full minute later, your voice small and soft.

he doesn't look your way. thats okay. you can watch his hands on the steering wheel all you want this way. the smooth glide of his palm over the wheel when he makes a turn. the idle rub of his thumb over it when hes going steady.

"how wasted are you?" he asks eventually.

you take a moment to think. try to count the alphabet backwards... yeah, no.

"pretty wstd..." you mumble. then you giggle. "wasted." you sound out the word.

patrick breathes deeply like he's purposely staying calm. "jesus." he looks at you again, a quick up and down assessment. "art cant see you like this. he'll lose his shit."

"he'll..." you hiccup. "he'll ground me foreverrrrrrr."

"your ass should be grounded." patrick snaps. "i mean, what the hell?" he says your name all disappointed and it shouldn't make you feel things but it does.

"you were doin worse at my age." you tell him.

at this, he finally laughs. more of a chuckle. a huff of amusement. his lips twist wryly. "kid, what i was doing at your age would make -" he pauses, thinks better of whatever he was about to say. "- lets just say nobody should be doing what I was doing at that age." he looks at you, "fucking especially not you."

your lips purse. "maybe i wanna be like you."

he shakes his head. "no, hun - you dont. trust me -" he grins but there's a kind of.... morose? tone to his voice. wistful almost. "you don't wanna be like me."

you frown, lips tugging down. you twist in your seat as much as your seatbelt will allow. his side profile really is something. you see hair at the nape of his neck is slightly damp - curling at the ends. he must have been taking a shower when you called - or quickly took one before he came to get you -

"i think i already am like you." you tell him honestly. the alcohol loosens your tongue. makes you more bold than you would be normally. "like, right here." you thump a hand against your chest. "on the inside." your teeth dig into your bottom lip. "i feel it. that.... thing we have."

"its called stupidity."

you shake your head. hard enough to make your brain feel knocked around.

"no, dont... dont diminish it. its not that - its like. you wanna be free - like... you were born a wolf but raised as a sheep. and you just wanna get out - run into the forest and be wild. you have that. i can see it. you try to push it down, but i see it. i see you, ricky. and i think you're cool as fuck. dont let -" you swallow. "- dont let anyone make you feel.... like you have to - have to - conform. i like who you are."

its quiet after that. patrick doesn't say anything. you watch your words run through him. see his adams apple bob. his lips work from one side to the other. hes chewing on it, you think. on what you said.

eventually he looks at you. his eyes are dark from it being night outside, but you can still see their green. his fingers tighten around the steering wheel.

"you're drunk as fuck."

but he says it like his voice is ran through gravel. rough and soft. you think what he really means is, thank you. i see you too.

you fall back against your seat and nod. you're getting sleepy.

"yeah." you agree. "i am that."

you hear him sigh. "I'll take you back to mine - tell your dad you got caught in a storm and couldn't make it all the way to his." his voice does that authoritative thing again, "but dont make this a habit, im too old for this shit."

"what're you gonna do? spank me if i misbehave again?"

he says your name in warning. once. clipped and short. so serious.

"I'll try." you tell him. "but no promises."

"you're gonna give me gray hairs."

"tuck me in when we get to yours?"

"dont fucking push it."

[hotgirlbedtimescenarios]

Toxic Joel Miller drabble: Haze

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ nsfw, drugs

Toxic!Joel who rolls your blunts and gives you lazy kisses while the smoke fills your lungs and a warm, fuzzy feeling creeps acoss you skin from the inside out. You pretend it’s because he likes you but you know it’s the high that makes him crave that soft intimacy. So you inhale again and get lost in the haze.

Toxic!Joel who you never know how he's going to fuck you. Tonight its slow, like he has all the time in the world to devour you again and again.

Toxic!Joel who starts at your neck with open mouth kisses and trails his was up across you jaw and then higher to nip at the lobes of your ears. His hands take their own journey across the planes of your body spread out on the couch beside him.

Toxic!Joel who shimmies you out of your shorts and pulls your panties to the side to reveal your glistening center. With his large rough palms he parts your legs and settles between them, licking and nipping the inside of your thighs, higher and higher until his breath ghosts across your aching cunt.

Toxic!Joel who eats his fill until his nose, beard, and face are glistening with your spend. Who groans inside of you at the taste as he continues to plunge his tongue into you and rut his own hips into the couch desperate for friction.

Toxic!Joel who sheds his own clothes then grabs you in his thick arms to position you over his lap. You slide up and down the shaft of his rock hard cock, coating it in your slick and finding pleasure in the sesation it gives your clit.

Toxic!Joel who tilts his head back and moans with an open mouth when you ease down on his cock, slowly, stretching and accommodating his length until you settle at the base.

Toxic!Joel who whispers explitives as you ride him lazily, body still tingling from your high, feeling warm, desperate, and filthy. When your lips crash together he tastes like smoke and whiskey, strong, bitter, and intoxicatring. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, tangling with yours.

Toxic!Joel who can’t ake it any longer, he needs more, more, more. He begins to pound you from underneath, wrapping his sturdy arms around your body and squeezing you against his sweaty chest as he chases his high. Your head bobs up an down aginst his chest as you take his thrusts, slack jawed and moaning each time his throbbing head hits the deepest parts of you.

Toxic!Joel who slips a hand between your bodies, his thumb expertly rolling against your clit building your orgasm at a lightning pace. He thrusts harder, your ass cracking against the skin of his thighs and the lewd, wet noises from where the two of you connect fill the room.

Toxic!Joel who has you shaking and squirming against him as your orgasm barrels into you. Your muscles go taught then melt into oblivion when it hits, especially as he continues to pound into you with devastating force. He rides you through it as you gush on his cock, dripping onto his thighs and puddling on the cushions underneath you.

Toxic!Joel who reaches his end. "god fuckin' dammnit" he grits between his teeth as he bucks into you one final time and you feel him finish inside of you, flooding your insides with his cum.

Toxic!Joel who'se chest you feel heaving underneath you, slick with the sweat from your two bodies. You rest there, savoring the moment of intimacy as he strokes your back with his hands before the moment is cut short.

Toxic!joel who lifts you off of him without a word and leaves you naked on his couch as he pads down the hallway and into the bathroom. You hear the shower turn on and know that he's left you once again. You’ve served your purpose, let him have his way with your body when he’s high and horny, eager to bury his cock into something. All you can do is is reach for the blunt and light up, taking a deep breath and praying the high will erease the hurt in your heart and longing in the pit of your stomach. The wait begins again as you count down the hours, days, or weeks until he’s needy and desperate enough to seek you out again. And he knows you’ll come running because It’s the only time he wants you.

[weebsinstash]

Oooh Val's uses his coat wings to hide reader away whenever he gets jealous because someone looked at you.

Do you think he would do that to like some of his workers to make the reader jealous?

GOD this immediately makes me think of him doing something EVEN WORSE ACTUALLY

To make him a little more unhinged and sadistic here, imagine a sadistic yan Valentino who will literally bully you to fucking tears and hurt your feelings on purpose because it 'proves you care about him'.

You and him have an actually sweet mutually respectful moment and he says something specific to you... calls you a new nickname or gives you a really specific compliment, and, it also just really makes you all warm and fuzzy. Or there's a specific way he likes to hold you or nonsexually touch you.

Then you "cross him", you two are arguing, there's several days of you basically all but completely ignoring him, and Val's suddenly making sure to deliberately do that same action or pet name or phrase to someone else RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU and I'm talking you're like, IMMEDIATELY SNAPPING YOUR HEAD IN HIS DIRECTION, and he's already fucking looking at you with this shit eating grin to look at your offended, upset expression

Like sorry can you even fucking imagine he tells you something that makes you feel really special in private and he KNOWS THAT and he compliments someone else the exact same way and you're looking at him literally IN TEARS and he's ENJOYING THAT HE'S MAKING YOU CRY

Just.... setting the scene.... you and him have been drinking, smoking, doing your drugs of choice, whatever, and... it's late at night... you guys are completely alone... and you're just... talking. Talking about your lives, about being in Hell, about experiences you've had, and then Valentino just kinda pokes your arm all coyly smirking/flirting like "It's weird but I feel like I can talk to you like we've known each other forever, like i actually care what you have to say and shit"

And then later on he gets pissed off at you (and it's something stupid like he gets jealous of you talking/bonding with another person) and he says that to some bitch that he like BARELY KNOWS, I would be GASPING CRYING WANTING TO THROW THINGS AT HIM like he could have you sitting there borderline suicidal and he's GRINING WITH GLEE, internally cheering "awwww they DO care about me 🥰 they care what i think about them and they're upset cause they think i dont like them 🥰" like some genuinely evil shit

Like lmao I've talked about "what if Reader became the fourth Vee" but I haven't mentioned "what if when Vox goes to calm down Valentino he also has to go to YOUR tower and comfort YOU because the reason you're both upset is YOU WERE ARGUING" (and maybe Vox takes your side more often because, you're his baby duh and you're newer and you probably have a better head on your shoulders than Val)

Vox is going upstairs, finding Velvette, "so, what kind of mess do I need to help clean up today?"

"The two of them started going at it right inside of my studio! Valentino said some NONSENSE to one of my models and then Vegas went BERSERK! Tore that unlucky bitch to pieces and then launched right at that lush, RIPS OUT a patch of his hair, then HE goes into A RAGE, they were both drunk and THROWING THINGS AT EACH OTHER--"

Like just the mental image of Vox having this dichotomy of, dealing with Valentino having his drunken rages where he wants to resort straight to violence, he's screaming, throwing things, and then Vox goes to YOUR section of the place and you're opposite end of the spectrum, crying, I mean ALSO angry as fuck but in a "Val makes me feel worthless I hate him I hate everyone" kind of way. Vox finds Valentino drinking and wanting to hurt other people and lashing out at his employees and breaking shit, and then he finds you like facedown on a couch in a cloud of smoke and booze, crying about what a pathetic worm you are, why do they even keep you here, you don't belong here, Vox probably hates you too- WHICH HE IMMEDIATELY CORRECTS YOU ON BTW

Vox is out here having to baby and infantilize and SCOLD Valentino to talk him down to a normal level and then to you he's like GENUINELY like "nooooo oh my gosh are you kidding, dont say THAT, you're so cool though 🥺 Val said WHAT, noooOoooo, that's fucked up, I'm sorry, I'll talk to him. You wanna eat cereal and watch anime? I developed a new gacha game for you to play, you wanna play while i watch?" like forreal the favorite is so obvious fkcnckcnfb which is also why it hurts extra hard when VOX loses his cool with YOU because who are you gonna run to, Val or Velvette? Oh you mean the catty narcissistic pimp or the even cattier bully of an influencer? I'd sooner double die.

[watchoutforthefanfics]

Ticking Love Bomb (Part Four) || Eleventh Doctor × gn! Reader

Part 1, 2, 3, 4...

Taglist: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @solitairemvp @idontevenknowwth @this-is-me-lolol @rokosbasalisk

Summary: Your adventure with the Doctor and the Ponds takes a harsh turn when it seems you're targeted with a potion. A love potion, specifically the type where you fall in love with whoever's eyes you met first after "drinking" it. But what if you're already in love with him?

TWS: aliens, space, references of guns, smoke, unrequited love (but not really), self sacrificial attitudes, and purely oblivious people. Also, just a touch of angst (typical of a love confession).

Amy narrowed her eyes at you, stalling a bit behind the wandering Doctor, "Doctor-"

In a breath, she grabbed your arm and pulled you up to the other two. Her mouth in a flattened line, she spoke, "Doctor."

He was spinning around, touching lights and walls, like it'd help him find the TARDIS, and you could kinda hear him muttering. Your brain was fuzzy, so you couldn't exactly make it out, but it still somehow captured your attention. He, however, seemed not to notice Amy.

"Doctor."

He blinked, stopping his spinning and focusing on the two of you, "Amelia?"

"You know what could save them?" Amy asked, her tone harsher than you'd expected but she knew something you didn't.

The Doctor paused, looking between the two of them with a puzzled look, "Of course I do… What are you on about?"

Amy leveled a glare at him, and you felt something shift there. As the Doctor seemed to read her face, he backed up slightly before his face contouring into something less familiar to you, "Amelia, no."

You furrowed your brows, "What's-"

"Doctor," she spoke, "-all you have to do is-"

"Pond," he spoke, his tone more abrupt than you'd known, "-stop it."

"No," she countered and her grip tightened slightly on your arm, "-no, I won't because it really is that simple-"

"Amelia."

"-and if you just stopped being an arse, you would see it! It's been right in front of you-"

"Amelia."

"-you just need to say it. That's all you have to do-"

Before the Doctor could respond, or Amy could even finish, red lights started shining down the hallways -glaringly bright.

On top of that, the intercom buzzed to life, "It has been brought to my attention that the stowaways are still aboard. Due to this… neglect, I've decided to up the protocol. Change the search to I09-65, and I want priority on our little test dummy. Stay alert."

Your eyes darted among the now-limited doorways, and the shine of red light gleamed across the metal.

"That can't be good," Rory spoke, hand tightly laced with Amy's free one -since she was still latched to your side

"She's…" you opened your mouth, "-She's after me, isn't she?"

The Doctor paused, eyeing you with the most gentle of gazes like you would snap in the wind if he said anything too harsh.

"Y/N-"

"No," you hummed, shaking your head, "-you can't tell me otherwise, Doctor… If all she wants is me-"

"That's not-" the Doctor huffed, "-stop."

"It would let you guys get away," you answered, voice steady, "-even just for a second longer."

"Not happening."

His tone was stern, the kind that you imagine rumbled through streets, and you saw it then, the Doctor's fierce loyalty. What some would call 'the Oncoming Storm', but this time… it was directed at you.

"Doctor, I'm just-" you exhaled, shakily, "-you don't have a plan. They experimented on me, right? They want to see some results. They wouldn't just kill me because-"

"They would," he snapped, tone harsh and something in your chest hitched, "-and they will."

Rory added, a little bit unheard honestly, "It's really not safe, Y/N."

Amy nodded, her hand tightening on your arm as if that could stop you.

"So, all of us getting captured is safe? You don't- Ugh, okay, listen, I will be a distraction -it gives you some time to find the TARDIS-"

"Y/N," he exhaled heavily through his nose, "-We can do that with you."

"No," you shook your head, tears heavy in your voice, "-you can't, Doctor. Look around you- all the doors are sealing, and you can hear the march of footsteps."

"So, what?" Amy answered, her hand leaving your side in exasperation, "We will find the TARDIS either way, you don't need to-"

There was a chance there, as all of them fretted -the Doctor's eyes set stony, Rory's hands wringing nervously, and Amy pacing as she spoke. 

The silver doors behind everyone were seeping to a close, the door where the thrum of patterned footsteps leaked through. It was good for them, having intergalactic steel, or whatever it was, between them and the enemy.

But, you knew something that was better than that.

In a breath, you shot through the group, fingers grazing upon his tweed jacket just for a second longer. 

How did you pull the Indiana Jones move? You'd never know.

Sliding through on your knees, you were firmly on the other side of the door and if you focused enough, you could hear them.

"Y/N!" 

"Why did you-"

"We're not leaving you, dumbass."

It was muffled by the thick metal-like substance and the seal evidently shut.

Wait, their room was completely sealed too. And it was incredibly small, maybe built to be like sanitization access between areas, just based on the connection. Fuck.

How would you even-

You heard the footsteps become louder and you could swear your hands were shaking and your heart was beating out of your-

Beating out of your chest.

"Doctor," you said, back up against the metal, "-can you get out of the other side?"

"You can't just slide through the door and just-"

"Can you force the door open, Doctor? Answer me."

There was a pause, and a heavy sigh, his voice got farther away, "With time, yes. But we don't have that. I'd have to-" he sputtered, "I'm going to need some extra power for the sonic, there's probably an energy core nearby, but we're sealed."

"So, if you had more power, you'd-"

"Hypothetically, yes," he cut you off, and you could practically hear the frantic combing through his hair, the familiar pace of his shoes echoing in your brain, "-but I wouldn't be able to access one, I'd have to search the whole ship- It’s just not-"

"Okay, okay," you hummed, "-I get it. You're sealed in, and need a way out."

"We need you to not separate yourself," Amy sliced back, tone unnervingly calm.

"Hush, Amy," you exhaled, "I think… I think I've got a plan."

"Could," you paused, "Could the sonic draw power from an explosion?"

"An explosion?" He parroted back, tone confused for a moment, "-where are you going to get an explosion? There's no-" his voice faded to silence.

"Y/N, no, don't even think about it," he spoke his tone direct, and yet as the footsteps roamed closer…you still felt compelled.

This was what a companion of the Doctor was supposed to do, right? Protect the raggedy man, just like he protected you. He hated it, but it didn't mean it was any less true.

"Doctor," you spoke, tone a touch shaky and voice a little spent, "-I need to tell you something."

[glorysalazar]

No Duolingo, no problem

Jere Pöyhönen / Käärijä x Fem! Reader

Summary: You moved to Finland a few weeks ago and can't seem to feel at home: you're starting at a new job, you don't understand the language, you're kind of going through a break up... One tired and cold evening you head into the first bar you can find and briefly meet a cute guy you can't stop thinking about for the next few weeks. You try to forget about him, but when you go back to the same bar for some random gig your coworkers have invited you to go to, you find him again. [This takes place way before Eurovision]

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings: English isn't my first language and I got a little lazy mid writing. Also they smoke a vape oops (seriously now don't do it it's shit for your health). Maybe smut implications at the end?

A/N: I didn't know what to name this lmao. I cannot believe I wrote fanficiton for the first time in YEARS because I fell in love with a Finnish guy after watching Eurovision. Anyway, I noticed an enormous shortage of Jere fics and decided to risk my final exams to serve the people. I hope it's worth it! Also apologies if the Finnish translation is shit I used a random website for it lol

Glossary:

"Anteeksi, pudotit takkisi" -> "Sorry, you dropped your coat"

"Jere, istuimme takapöydässä" -> "Jere, we are sitting at the back table"

"Olen tulossa" -> "I'm on my way"

"Hetkinen, kiitos!" -> "One moment, please!"

"Jere, sinun vuorosi on kymmenen minuutin kuluttua" -> "Jere, you're on in ten minutes"

"Minä menen nyt" -> "Coming"

"Hei kaikille, miten meillä menee tänään?" -> "Hi everyone, how are we doing today?"

"Kiitos, Mikko, arvostan sitä todella" -> "Thank you, Mikko, I really appreciate it"

"Miten uskallat tulla tänne?" -> "How dare she come here?"

"Meidän on hyödynnettävä sitä" -> "We'll have to make use of it"

"Mikä on sana?" -> "What's the word?"

...

It was cold. Hell, it was colder than she could have ever imagined before coming here. Sure, she had checked the country's temperatures before moving, researched online about what to expect for someone who was used to easy winters, had bought the fuzzy-fur-on-the-inside-boots and the heavy jacket and all that was recommended to face the never-ending snowing. But still, it somehow hadn't been enough.

A job offer and the need to find some new purpose to latch onto had led (Y/N) here. Now three weeks in, with no friends and hardly a place to call her home had helped regret start to settle in. So many things felt out of her control: the way her colleagues seemed to think she was a mess, the cashiers at the supermarket sighing because she still didn't understand the language, everyone from her hometown rolling their eyes when she announced she was leaving in a way that meant you're not gonna make it.

Yet being thrown outside her comfort zone, and being forced to move on however she could manage, made her feel at least some kind of thrive. Which was far more than she had back home.

As she walked down the street for some place to find shelter in, hands shaking and breaths almost uneven, a neon sign caught her attention. Even though she couldn't figure out the name, it looked like a pretty okay bar. She didn't need much convincing anyway; anything would do to get out of this freezing gale. She made her way in.

The warmth was a instant relief. Stripping down from the many layers of upper clothes, she took a quick glance to check the place out. Not many people, which was fair for a Wednesday evening. There was low music playing, mild chatter and a bunch of people sitting alone in the stools, which was a relief. At least she wouldn't be the only one.

As she ordered a beer (one of the few phrases she had made sure to master) she felt her hands come alive again. The beverage came along and she took a long, much anticipated sip. It tasted significantly different from the brands she was used to, but it was just fine. Alcohol is alcohol.

Finally feeling at ease, she took her phone out and started mindlessly scrolling through social media to kill some time. It was still early in the evening since she had just gotten out from work. An extra challenging day is what had led her to wander outside for a bit instead of heading back to the dull apartment she hadn't even been able to decorate yet. Going home right after would've led her to start overthinking if this job was even right for her, if she had gone crazy by moving hundreds of kilometres away from what she's always known, if her ex-girlfriend had been right when she accused her of being too impulsive, if it would be such a bad thing to give it up already and leave—

"Anteeksi, pudotit takkisi", she heard a voice say behind her.

When she turned around to give her "sorry I still don't speak Finnish" speech, she was met with a blue-eyed, dark-haired, funky but sweet looking guy holding her jacket, which she now understood had fallen to the floor. It caught her by surprise that she somehow forgot how to speak for a brief moment.

"Oh! Thank you, I hadn't noticed it was on the floor" she ended up answering, taking the jacket back as the man handed it to her with a confused look in his eyes. "Sorry, I'm not from here. I don't speak Finnish yet" she added with a small chuckle.

"No, don't worry, Finnish, uh- hard language to learn" he answered through an amusing smile, with a thick accent and a clear struggle to speak English.

She half laughed at his answer. Until now, people hadn't been so kind about the language-barrier impediment. "Yes, it is a little bit", she followed, now taking in his appearance.

Painted nails. Double nose piercings. Earrings. Facial hair. A bowl cut? Interesting choice, but it suited him surprisingly well. Her brain decided through that brief examination: he was cute. Attractively cute.

"You can try Duolingo. I use for my English, but don't work very very well" the man said the second part more as a correction to himself, making both of them laugh from the random half advice. He tried to fix it: "Maybe for you works better".

"Maybe. I'll check it out. Thank you again" her response was going to be followed by an invitation for him to sit down with her, as she felt a sudden wave of boldness: I need to make some friends in this town or else I'll go crazy. But a group of three other guys that had come in after him caught her stranger's attention.

"Jere, istuimme takapöydässä", one of them said to him, while walking to a table at the back corner of the bar.

"Olen tulossa" he turned around to answer, then looked at her once more, "I go now with my friends. Enjoy your beer" he smiled and small-waved goodbye, as she copied his gesture. "Enjoy your evening".

That small interaction was enough for her to spend the next half hour looking up from her phone, which she had retreated to, to glance at him from time to time. His group of friends and him seemed to be having a good time, and she enjoyed the view of him. He looked like a very interesting person, too, and if she was being honest, she hadn't been struck by someone new in quite some time. Not by her neighbors, not by the people she was starting to coincide with at the grocery shop, not even by her co-workers.

She noticed him looking at her from time to time as well.

When her glass was empty and just as the clock on her phone struck seven, she got up and got prepared to face the freezing wind once again. At least it wasn't that long of a walk to her place.

She lingered for a moment before exiting the bar, then finally did so while warning herself not to get too caught up on the nice stranger she suddenly felt she was leaving behind. It was just a one minute interaction. You probably won't see him again. Quit this teenager act. Focus on the important tasks ahead of you.

It was already pitch black outside, snow accumulated on the sidewalks, the air was even colder than before.

Excitement started to bubble up in the pit of her stomach.

...

Two weeks had gone by and although she had been meaning to return to the bar, she just hadn't find the time to do so. Once the job's training period ended, the hectic rythm started. In her free time, when she wasn't taking care of the house or just resting, she was trying to find some language academy where she could actually properly learn Finnish. Cute guy had been right: Duolingo just didn't do the trick.

She had hoped he would appear around the neighborhood, that maybe he lived nearby. But there had been no luck. It was fine, though. She knew she would let go of it rather quickly at that point, it's not like she had been thinking about his addictive smile or pretty eyes or soft-looking hands. Not at all.

It was Friday, and some acquaintances from work she had managed to pull off had invited her to a small gig. She didn't even remember the musician's name nor did she know where it was going to be, but nevertheless she was happy to go and actually get to have some fun with other people. Who knows, cute guy might even be there.

She didn't even realize they were headed to the bar until they were right in front of it. Inside, a small stage platform had been set up and tables and chairs had been removed to make space for the audience. It wasn't very spacey anyway, the place could hold about a hundred people squeezed together tops.

"Huh, hadn't even thought of this place as a venue" she let her thoughts trail out loud.

"Have you been here before?" her coworker Aubrey, who she had slightly bonded with because she was also a foreigner, asked her. "Only once" the girl explained, already searching for a certain someone's face in the crowd. "So, who have you brought me to see tonight?" she asked, in the hopes of at least getting some conversation non-work related flowing. "I don't really know, coming here was Mikko's idea. He's always trying to get us into these weird small rap-rock Finnish bands, and listen, I've lived here for over a year now and I still don't really get the hype" Aubrey explained making both of them laugh "But it always ends up being fun when we go out" she added.

The rest of the group had moved forward to get a good spot near the humble stage, as Mikko babbled on and on about nonsense the two women couldn't figure out from the distance. "Hey, I'm going to the bathroom real quick. Mind saving me a place?" (Y/N) asked her colleague, who answered affirmatively.

She made her way through the crowd in between "excuse me's" and "sorry's" but got there with quite ease. One of the two toilet doors had a sign that read "Out of order", so she knocked on the one that was left to check if anyone was inside. A voice that sounded vaguely familiar came from the other side: "Hetkinen, kiitos!"

Nervousness suddenly struck her. Is this who I think it is?

When the door opened there was no doubt. Cute stranger was standing in front of her.

"Oh! Hello" he blurted out just as he saw her, sounding surprised. Today he was wearing eye makeup and bottom eyeliner, which suited him very, very well. He has such a pretty face.

She realized now she had not been able to get over this guy in the two weeks of not seeing him, even though she didn't even know his name.

"Hi" was all she could manage to say. She had been looking for him when she entered the bar but she was convinced he was not actually going to be there, "It's good to see you!" she added, as a way of avoiding an awkward silence.

"You as well. You, uh, you come to... concert?" he inquired, struggling to find the last word while pointing towards the direction where the stage was to make sure he was being understood.

She noticed he was wearing an all yellow outfit that consisted of corduroy pants and a button up. He looks good in it.

"Yes, some work friends brought me here. But if I'm being honest I don't even know who's playing" she confessed, slightly covering her mouth with one of her hands to joke around, as if she had spilled a dark secret. Stranger burst out laughing. His laugh was cute. "Do you know if he's good? I wanna know if I'll be wasting my time or not" she asked him, pretending to be a diva to keep his laugh going.

He had his arms crossed and his tongue between his teeth as he slightly giggled. "No, I think he's pretty ok. I think you will like, even if no understand" his answer was playful and accompanied with another small laugh. She continued joking around, this time putting her hands up in pretend self defense "Hey, I'll try my best. Maybe using Duolingo for two days actually did something" she shot back, realizing after saying those words that she had just told Mr. Stranger she had followed his advice.

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head playfully "You did what I say to you" he stated. "Yes, but you were right. It's not really helpful. Now I just keep getting emails from the goddamn owl and feel scared that he's going to find me and kill me for not going back to the app" she explained exaggeratedly, which made their giggles grow bigger and even he bent his knees with laughter.

Their little chit-chatting was cut when a man who looked like he had been searching for someone stopped in his tracks at the beginning of the bathroom hall and shouted at them: "Jere, sinun vuorosi on kymmenen minuutin kuluttua". She turned around to look at the source of the voice and then back at stranger when he answered "Minä menen nyt". She wished she knew what they were saying, but she assumed it had just been his friend telling him to hurry up. Also, was Jere his name? She had heard it two times already.

"Someone's always calling out for you", she commented when they were left alone again. "It's because me popular, yes yes" he joked, putting a hand to his chest and shrugging. "Listen, I go now. Concert starting soon" he explained, pointing out to the stage's direction once again "I see you there?" he asked, eyebrows raised as he put a hand to her shoulder, looking into her eyes. His blue ones had her mind going blank for a moment. That seemed to happen a lot when he was around. "Uh- yeah, sure, see you there". He smiled again then moved past her to return to the hall. She stared at him leave as she opened the door to the bathroom and finally went inside, smiling to herself and biting her bottom lip.

She hurried back once she was finished not only in fear of missing out the start of the concert, but more so in fear of not finding him again. Aubrey raised her hand to catch her attention and she followed the lead back to the group. The place was packed, it was hot, and there was a lot of chatter going on.

"What took you so long?", Aubrey asked as she got to her side, just in front of the stage, "They're about to start". (Y/N) was standing on her tiptoes and turning her head in all directions. She had just talked to him and the bar was not that big: where the hell had he hid himself?

"There was a long line to the bathroom..." she started off distantly, then turned to face Aubrey "Hey, this is going to sound weird, but have you seen-" just when she was going to make the question, she noticed some people walking up to the stage and everyone started cheering.

As she looked up, she couldn't have been more dumbfounded.

It was him. Mr Stranger was the one performing tonight.

"Hei kaikille, miten meillä menee tänään?" he shouted out to the public, (Y/N) assumed as a way of greeting everyone. He took no time noticing she was right there, which made him grin even wider. "I see we have international people tonight. Good" he said while looking directly at her. She felt her coworkers eyes on her.

"Do you know him?" Aubrey whispered-shouted to her, "I- uh, no, yes? Briefly" she responded back as he continued on in Finnish. She remembered the question she had made him earlier and mentally facepalmed. This cheeky dude. Lying to her face just so he could later get her reaction.

Since there was no way of understanding what he said, she concentrated on what she could see. Two men behind him wearing pink shirts and shorts and sunglasses. A DJ table, no instruments. There was a sign hanging from the wall that read "Käärijä". Was that his artistic name? She was very intrigued by everything going on and wondered what genre he was going to play.

She had no idea what was coming.

As soon as he stopped talking and the music started playing, his demeanor changed. His stare became fiercer, his movements provocative and unleashed. He walked around the stage like he owned it, stared at the audience like he knew they would do whatever he asked them. Every beat before he started singing rumbled inside her, made her hold her breath in anticipation. She let it out once the words started to fall from his mouth.

The lyrics could have been shit for all she knew. His deep voice, the exotic pronunciation, the hard rapping from the boy who had seemed so sweet and wholesome but was now showing another side of him, the song's rhythm and tone. She was all in. So in, that her body started swaying to the sound almost like an automatic response, and jumped around alongside everyone else when the music demanded to do so.

"Ok, he's really good" she said to her coworkers as the crowd sung alongside him. "Mikko, you were right, he's really good" she insisted to the boy beside her, who was clearly enjoying himself. "I told you!" he answered amidst chanting, "Jere is my most talented friend". Oh, okay. Mental note taken.

As he performed his songs, (Y/N) couldn't help but admire the dedication Jere put on and the absolute fun he looked like he was having. Also, she realised he was at least kind of known around here, because people were singng alongside him.

The head banging, self touching, slightly undressing and sticking his tongue out only added more to his eclectic movements and gestures that made the show feel like a mix of energetic, passionate and, why deny it, lascivious state. Her eyes were glued to him in a capitative stare, that he would catch from time to time and hold for a few seconds. Then he would turn to his attention somewhere else, but a smirk would make a clear appearance on his face.

Whenever he finished a number, the loud clapping allowed him some time to take a sip of water. The clothes he was wearing and its material soon became unbearable, which lead him to take his shirt off completely. "Sorry, it is hot in here" he stated into the microphone pretending to excuse himself as a joke, as everyone in the room made a fuss about it. He was heavily sweating all over his face, neck and torso.

If she had previously been absorbed by him, at this point it was almost unbearable. She had not expected to see so much exposed flesh, and the pectoral tattoo nearly had her weak on her knees.

For some reason, freehing himself from his clothes somehow made him behave even wilder from then on out. He started getting closer to the front row, some even holding out their arms to interact with him, him receiving the gesture with no issue. The Fin looked so confident in what he was doing, it only made her feel even more attracted to him.

He moved so quickly (Y/N) didn't even have time to process when he positioned himself right in front of her, amidst performing a song, and full on stroked her cheek for a few lasting moments, all the while mainting direct eye contact. It was as if no one else had been around them, as if this instant had been theirs only. She didn't respond to the touch by touching him herself, since she couldn't find the strength to be as bold; but the breath hitching and swallowing saliva right after were a clear sign to Jere that he made her feel things. He would quite probably feel embarrassed about it later, but right now it made him feel close to powerful.

The whole gig ended on a high note, the applause was strong and lasting. (Y/N) clapped her hands so fast they even started hurting a little, and could understand through the noise that Jere was thanking everyone for coming out to see him. As he was about to exit the stage, some music started playing over the speakers as to signal that the performance was over and everyone could retreat to either leave the bar or get a drink and stay there for a longer while. As the people from the front row turned around and waited to have a chance to move, (Y/N) felt a hand on her shoulder.

Jere looked exhausted, but it also seemed like the whole night had riled him up. "You don't leave now?", he meant to ask, but came out more as a plead. She wouldn't even dream of doing so right now. "No, no, I'm staying" she rushed to answer. "Good. Wait for me?" he went on. She could only manage to nod her head yes. He smiled and quickly went "backstage" to freshen up.

"Okay, what the actual hell was that?" Aubrey took no time to pry her, "It did not look like knowing each other briefly". (Y/N) shrugged while putting her hands in the air and half laughing, not knowing how to beat those allegations.

"It's classic Jere. Finds a girl cute and cannot stop himself" Mikko chimed in, while grinning, "Now I understand, you must be the girl he saw a couple of weeks ago over here, right?"

"He's talked about me?" she said, a bit shocked, while Mikko lead the way for the three of them to go grab a drink. "Yes, well, now that I connect the dots, that evening you came here, it was a Wednesday, right? I came too, but it must've been after you left. When I arrived he was commenting it".

Some of the other coworkers were starting to leave, not without commenting the elephant in the room before grabbing the door. "You're gonna be the talk of the office now", Aubrey asserted, making Mikko laugh and (Y/N) grow redder by the minute. "I don't even- we haven't even talked that much, really. But watching him onstage was..." she trailed off, letting out a sigh and grabbing the drink Mikko offered her, thanking him in the process. "Yes, it's his special trait. That magnetism he holds is what's gonna get him places", he agreed.

"Okay, but does this whole act mean that he always does this? Like, does he take advantage of his concerts to mindlessly flirt with random people?" (Y/N) suddenly tried to rationalize the fast track of actions Jere was taking on with her. Sure, she liked him, and she really, really wanted to have some fun. Needed it, even. This bonding moment with Aubrey and Mikko right now, this non-work related, exciting chatter; the going out; as precipitating as it sounds she was starting to feel like she was finally making friends, establishing a life. But she also didn't want to be played around with.

"Ohhh, no, not necessarily" her coworker laughed, calming her down "Käärijä the performer is seductive, provocative, even uncontrollable" he took a sip from his drink, "But Jere the person is another story. Dude wouldn't even hurt a fly, I mean it" he reassured her. He then was about to say something else, but stopped on his tracks when they all noticed the man of the hour and the tow men who had performed with him coming over to them. However, he quickly commented to the girls the following before Jere could hear them: "If anything, he's the one who has been played around with".

Jere approached Mikko first, going in for a hug, which made total sense given the fact that they were friends. (Y/N) appreciated it, because his last comment had caught her by surprise. He had changed into some track pants and graphic loose t-shirt, and over all he already looked far more calmed down and back to his more, to put it some way, innocent self. Aubrey and (Y/N) exchanged a look before introducing themselves to the guys in pink, who had not changed their outfits. Their names were Jaakko and Aleksi.

"Hey, I recognize you. You were all in the bar that day I was here" she said as a realization. "Yes, we were planning tonight" Aleksi answered, "Did you like it?" he added, to both her and Aubrey.

While the four of them engaged in small talk, the girls understood that Mikko was congratulating his friend on his performance and Jere was thanking him, "Kiitos, Mikko, arvostan sitä todella", he said with appreciation on his face, closed smile and big puppy eyes (Y/N) couldn't ignore. With one last ruffle on his hair from Mikko, the two men stayed with one arm over the other's back and turned to the group.

"Alright, let's talk in English now so we can all understand each other..." Mikko started off. "I see you guys have already introduced yourselves, very good. Now let me introduce you girls to Käärijä himself, although maybe a certain someone doesn't need it" he playfully remarked, making Jere look away while hiding his face and (Y/N) roll her eyes. "Jere, these are (Y/N) and Aubrey from work. Aubrey, (Y/N), this is Jere" he played around using a formal tone and letting out of their embrace.

"Nice to meet you" Aubrey answered, shaking hands with him and gently pushing (Y/N) forward once she was done to signal her to do so as well.

"I finally know your name" he commented, making her chuckle, "Yes, I guess you do". Mikko and Aubrey swiftly moved to give them some space, going over to Jaakko and Aleksi, who were all in in the same unspoken plan.

"You like the show?" he seemed a bit nervous as he rested his elbow on the counter and signaled the waiter to get him a drink, while attentively listening to her answer, "Honestly, I'd never been to one quite like this. I mean, I've been to rock concerts and such, but this energy you guys put on stage was totally new for me. I really enjoyed it tho, you're really good" she sincerely said.

"Oh, thank you, really" Jere put a hand to his chest as to show gratitude, "It was first concert after months of not doing", he further explained, "So means a lot all people who come here, yes. I'm so happy for this, I was worried if not work well". He sounded so humble (Y/N) couldn't help but grow to like his personality even more. She was curious to know why he hadn't played in a way, but also didn't want to intrude, so she opted for another response. "Well you should be. We all had a blast".

"You understand anything I sing?" he wondered with a perky smirk, before taking a sip from the beer that had just landed in front of him. "I didn't need to", she let it out without giving it a second thought, almost as if this was the only real answer she could give, which to her felt absolutely true. He was shocked by it and spilled some of the drink out, quickly catching the dripping by covering his mouth with a napkin.

"Ah, I make fool of me now, great!" he tried to cover up by playing down the incident. She couldn't stop laughing out loud, some people even noticing the whole scene between the two of them, specially Mikko and company who laughed as well from a distance, "That's what you get for lying to me before" she joked, but grabbed a napkin as well to clean his shirt up, softly patting it on his chest. "Sorry, I wanted to surprise" he justified. It was in that moment that she noticed they were almost the same height. When her gaze moved upward from the stain she was cleaning up, his stare was way closer than she had thought. He carried on talking.

"Also, before, I hope I not make you... uh-, mikä on sana epämukavalle?" he looked over at Mikko for help regarding a language inquire.

"Uncomfortable"

"Yes, that" Jere said, "I hope I not make you uncom... uncomfortable when I, you know-" he tried to explain himself, struggling with the pronunciation. He stroked his own cheek to interpret what he attempted to say. "Oh! No no, don't worry, it was- it was okay. I liked it, actually", his relief was evident after she assured him. He let out a nervous giggle.

Then, something caught his attention. His gaze had travelled to the door, past (Y/N), and what he saw made his face turn dead serious, although also sad. Mikko, Aleksi and Jaakko very quickly noticed what was happening. Aubrey and (Y/N) also turned around to check it out: a girl was standing by the entrance looking for someone with a worried expression.

"Miten uskallat tulla tänne?" Jaakko expressed angrily. The three men addressed Jere, who suddenly was a loss of words and course of action.

"Ex alert" Aubrey whispered to (Y/N) while sipping from her drink's straw. "They're asking him if he wants to go talk to her" she informed her friend, which (Y/N) was thankful for. It was really tiring to not catch anything on her own sometimes. While the four men were talking to each other, deciding what to do next, (Y/N) grabbed Jere's arm and everyone's attention fell on her. She just couldn't stop strongly empathizing with him because she had also recently been through a break up and knew how shitty it was. Jere seemed more at ease when she talked, "Are you okay? Do you want to get out of here?" he looked past her again, everyone following his direction and realizing his ex was coming over to them. "I do, please", "Then we're getting out of here", (Y/N) decided, "You guys coming?" she asked the rest. "No, you guys go on. We'll make sure she doesn't follow" Mikko stated, thankful for her determination.

They said rushed goodbyes and (Y/N) got ahold of his hand to guide him towards the door. When they walked past her, she tried to talk, but they were quick to get out.

As per usual, it was freezing. They started to wander off to anywhere.

...

"I'm sorry about having to go"

They had found a comfortable spot in a park overlooking the town's river and had settled there. They had walked for a while, him trying to talk about anything else but his ex.

"Don't sweat it. I fully understand" she comforted him, then took the vape he had previously offered to her and took a puff before continuing, "I got broken up with three months ago... I hate to admit it, but it's part of the reason I ended up deciding to move here", she explained. He listened to her attentively, with a stern face.

The night was silent over here. It was only the sound of the stream and their hushed voices

"Can I ask why the break up?" he inquired, not wanting to pry on too much. "Only if I can ask why the break up", she made him chuckle. "Yes, of course" he accepted.

"She said I was too impulsive and that she couldn't trust me to maintain a steady and stable relationship, because I couldn't even do that with my own life" she sighed after her explanation and rolled her eyes.

"Wow" Jere said, disapproving look on his face "Hard thing to say".

"Yes, but honestly, I don't hold a grudge anymore. She had her right to think that way too. I do so too sometimes" she admitted, handing back the electronic cigarette, since they were taking turns to smoke.

"That's shit" he commented, which made them both laugh, "But I understand, too. "My ex, Sofia, that's her name, she uh- said she not approve of music career" his gaze moved upfront, "She said It's either me or music, and I think she not like my answer" Jere let out a half-sad cackle, "This is all I ever wanted to do. I loved her, I feel like I still do a bit, you know? But..." he nodded negatively before finishing the sentence, "I need someone who give support. What I told you before, the not doing concerts? A part of it was because I got, uh, insecure".

Silence fell between them as they both got lost in their own thoughts for a brief moment.

"You know, for someone who claims to not be good at English, you can maintain quite a deep conversation" her words made him belly laugh again. He looked at her and handed the vape once more. "Don't need Duolingo for that" he referenced. He was about to speak again but cut himself. "You can go on, it's fine", his doe-like blue eyes seeped cherishment.

"Oh, I not know, talking about ex was not in my plans when being alone with a girl I like" he made her blush, "I just thinking that, you know, I'm almost... mikä on sana" he struggled again with the language "Thirty year old?" he doubted if he had said it right, and the girl nodded to indicate him he had, "Thirty year old, and when younger I thought Oh, I achieve my dreams at thirty, have the family, all that... You know? And... nothing of that" he described, "My songs, some say that. But you not understand, so..." he added jokingly to lighten the mood, erupting laughter from her.

"Hey, I'm trying really hard to find a place where I can learn Finnish! Give me a break..." she defended herself, while the giggling from both of them died down. "But, just so you know, most of us feel this way too. Having your life figured out at thirty? That only happens to the lucky ones, I can assure you" she saw his tired expression and put a hand to his shoulder, "And by the way, you're crazy talented. We were all mesmerized by your performance. You can get to whatever place you want to be, and if you don't, well... It won't be because of your fault".

They were once again looking in each other's eyes. His gaze travelled down to her mouth. They were sitting close to one another as to avoid the cold wind. Her heart beat faster. How come did she feel like he had known him for such a long time if this was practically their first ever proper conversation? Yet she couldn't fight it. She had seen so many sides of him in such a short amount of time; she swore she'd never been that much of a romantic but the alcohol, mixed with how vulnerable they both felt in that moment and the fact that she was finally feeling at ease after more than a month of such a big change in her life, probably did the trick.

"Can- can I...?" he started nervously, but was interrupted.

"Yes"

Their lips crashed, finally killing the anticipation. Her hands cupped his face and his ones settled on her waist. She felt his long eyelashes touch her face, his beard tickled her jaw and his hoop piercing was cold on her nose. (Y/N) enjoyed feeling all these parts of Jere on her. He truly was so pretty. And suddenly, she wanted to make sure he knew just how pretty he was and how much he deserved to know it. The wave of boldness she had had to ask him to sit down with her those two weeks ago, but had been interrupted, came back as a stronger force.

When they separated to catch their breath, (Y/N) kept his face close to hers. He was panting through a timid smile and hot red burned his cheeks. She noticed her face doing the same thing.

"My apartment is a five minute walk from here" she suggested.

"Meidän on hyödynnettävä sitä" he whispered, hands going up and down her sides, and the Finnish language had never sounded so seductive to her.

"I didn't catch that",

"You don't need to. I will show you".

[hyunsvngs]

hmm 🧅s on high sex w 3racha? like they’re working on a new track in their studio w u smoking a cart/blunt n then all of a sudden ur making out w them? n then it sorta escalates bc everything feels soso good and ur senses are heightened. everything’s kinda fuzzy, n ur so cooked u cant even tell who’s dick your sucking, or who has their fingers in your pants, but it’s soo jfkfjf

-🐳 anon

oh boy this has been sitting in my inbox for a while because i've just been reading it over and over. 3racha stoners so have my heart.

the smoke has settled over the studio. it was meant to be a productive evening, but all plans of that dwindled when you were invited to visit - you always had weed, and you were always up to fuck with one of those three boys. they hadn't planned on working today. it was all a front. you'd arrived with one purpose.

jisung's head rolls onto your shoulder, his bucket hat falling backwards off of his head with the movement. he giggles regardless, nuzzling his cheek into the soft fabric of your t-shirt. "i'm so high."

changbin snickers. "you're always so high. what's the peak pinnacle of highness, jisung?"

jisung blinks. he raises his head off of your shoulder, pointing at changbin with one accusing finger. "that is such a good question." chan's red in the face with laughter. you are, too.

"not to be that person, but is anyone else horny?" you say, voice thick and cutting through the smoke in the room.

"i'm always horny," jisung chirps in response. you scoff, and then you turn to him. he really is. he's hard in his pants right now. "wanna make out?"

"obviously," you murmur, and then your lips are locking together. it always goes like this. it's you and jisung first, then you and changbin, and then you and chan. never any different. chan groans when he captures the sight of your tongues dancing over eachothers, jisung whining into the kiss.

"need you," he huffs, grabbing your thigh just a little too hard to drag you onto his lap. you let him anyway, straddling his slender hips with no protest. "need you since you walked in, you look so sexy."

"you do look sexy," chan contributes, and you giggle. "always look fuckin' sexy. you gonna let us fuck you, baby?"

"oh, absolutely," you grin, turning to face him. his eyes are dark, one eyebrow raised as though to proposition you - and you are one hundred percent agreeing.

it gets out of hand from then on. you don't know who's fingers creep into your joggers first, whether it's chan's or changbin's - jisung is typically way too impatient to touch you until you're naked. he claims he'll bust way too early. it's probably true.

you do know that it's changbin's cock you suck first, the thick yet shorter length pushing between your lips and you know that it's jisung who presses inside you first.

"there's a good girl," chan coos, his hand yanking your hair back. changbin reaches down, slapping his cockhead on your lips a few times for good measure. "gonna make me and my boys cum, aren't you?"

and, well, you had gone there with a purpose, after all.

[starsurface]

Haii me again, idk if your okay with people requesting more than once but if your not then just ignore this. But I was wondering if you could make some like baby regressor!smoke(specifically mk1) headcanons please and ty? -🐯

I love request!!! Make as many as you want!!! :D

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Babyspace Regressor Tomas Vrbada Hcs

💨 I can see Tomas regressing from about 1-4, and a puppy regressor

💨 But rn we're going to focus on his baby headspace

💨 Either he gets this small after a long day of work and training, or because of flashbacks and nightmares

💨 Unfortunately, when it is because of flashbacks or nightmares, he'll start quietly sobbing in either his bed or his little hiding place

💨 Normally he's mastered the skill of staying silent while crying, but when his brain feels all fuzzy, he can't help but sob loudly

💨 Whether it's you or Kuai Liang, someone will eventually find him and the rest of the day is extremely soft and comforting

💨 Clingy cuddles, soft voices, small promises, his grip on your finger is so tight it feels like it's gonna break (lovingly, of course)

💨 When he doesn't slip because of bad bad memories or thoughts, he's actually a very giggly happy baby

💨 Happily waving whatever toys he owns, excitedly showing them to you so you can see!!

💨 A biter, you better watch for your fingers

💨 Would be overjoyed if you got him or of those teething baby rings

💨 Wiggles them in your face before using it, just so that you know he's using it :]

💨 ^ If he's having a bad bad baby time, he'll want his paci though so he can focus more on breathing

💨 Tomas feels like a very soft regressor, especially when he feels little little

💨 He doesn't like being yelled at or having any type of stern voices, especially when he's just a baby

💨 He'll look at you all confused and maybe even a little scared, why are you yelling at him? He doesn't understand, had he been naughty? 🥺

💨 You've gotta use really gentle parenting when he's this small

💨 He's not prone to getting in trouble, but sometimes the crayon he was using will drift onto the floor (not his fault, he just wanted to color with Kuai Liang!!)

💨 Back into teething, anything in his hands will end up in his mouth

💨 This is fine if it's a stuffie or his own fingers, because he doesn't bite extremely hard (if he does it's an accident and he'll try to babble apologize, especially if it was your hand)

💨 But if it's a crayon or something dangerous, you gotta make sure his face and hands don't get close together

💨 A copier, if someone's doing something, he'll try to intimidate it

💨 (^ Like those babies that when they see their Dad's flex and yell, they'll put their arms out and shout)

💨 But like, if Kuai Liang is coloring, Tomas wants to color (he just kinda makes two really weird circles on the paper and shows you it proudly, coloring hard man, you gotta keep the crayon straight up :(

💨 Or if Bi-Han pouting, Tomas will cross his arms and pout too (which will only prompt Bi-Han to get even fussier and claim Tomas is copying him on purpose)

💨 Adores soft textures, especially blankies or stuffies

💨 Has a blankie that he carries around but also kinda expects you to carry it (he's a baby, how is he supposed to hold it up? >:(

💨 A crawler, but a silent one

💨 Will crawl away because he saw something pretty across the room and you might not even notice

💨 Don't worry, he'll excitedly wave you over and babble about this cool thing he found! (If it's dangerous please take it away, even if he whines and fusses over it)

💨 It's very easy to make gim happy if he gets fussy, he's a baby with very simple needs

💨 (^ Most of those needs are just cuddles and your undying attention, although candy wouldn't hurt either)

💨 Really likes using baby bottles and the one (and only) time Bi-Han even tried to tease him over it, he cried for two hours straight

💨 (^ Bi-Han apologized btw, he can be really mean sometimes but he won't go as far as to make fun of his brother's comfort items) (especially when he has his own, but that's a topic for another day)

💨 The most people who watch him when he's this tiny is probably Kuai Liang (Bi-Han will too, but he doesn't wanna be mean by accident, and he knows his brother's really fragile in this specific headspace)

💨 (^ Smokencage shipper, Johnny and Kenshi absolutely adore this headspace but have only really seen it once and Tomas really just kinda hide in Kuai Liang's neck the entire time, he felt shy)

💨 Favorite little nicknames are Smokey, Sweetie, Baby Boy, Little Guy, Squirt

💨 Oh my gosh please swaddle him!!! His blankies big enough, please? 🥺

💨 He's a pretty big guy, being 6’ something, but he forgets a lot when he's this tiny

💨 So you might have him plop onto your lap and start cuddling up to you (like those big lap dogs)

💨 Is usually a really wiggly and giggly when he's feeling happier

💨 Whether it's tummy time and he gets to lay on his tummy and wiggle like a worm

💨 Or giggle because you keep hiding under the blankie and playing peek-a-boo with him

💨 But after hard, long, stressful days, he can be a very sleepy baby

💨 Bedtime is super easy, just bottle feed him and cocoon wrap him and he'll be out like a light, very little argument when it comes to naptime

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Stop, he's actually one of my favorites <3

Y'all his hair so so shiny in MK9, it's funny

[celestial-grls]

Sweet Treat / Robin Buckley x fem!reader

summary: blurb based on this post because I couldn’t stop thinking about it, also I 100% believe Robin has a huge sweet tooth and always wants something sweet late at night word count: 1.7k  a/n: my first time writing smut and hardly proofread so please be nice ok mwah mwah

You both make it a point to have dinner as much as possible together, but sometimes it just will not work. However, you guys always had dessert together. Even if it was 1 AM and you both had a long night, it felt wrong to skip having dessert together. Due to her notorious sweet tooth, it was mostly Robin’s habit that trickled into your daily routine. She’d finish washing her face but want company down in the kitchen while she ate her ice cream so you’d come down with her. If you guys couldn’t eat dinner together, this was the only time you’d have to ask about one another’s day. Sometimes even when you were eating dinner together, you guys would be too caught up talking about something else entirely that you’d completely forget to ask about each other. Never on purpose, but Robin and you are not immune to gossiping. 

Tonight is no different. Robin uses a special ice cream scooper that you got engraved with her initials on it for your first anniversary to scoop heaps of ice cream into her bowl. She even makes you a bowl, taking extra care to pick a good maraschino cherry to garnish yours with. She’s freshly showered, wearing a big t-shirt of yours while her hair dries. She’s walking back and forth from the fridge to the kitchen counter, where you’re sitting, in her white socks that she’s scrunched down. She’s telling you about some snags she hit with the production of a student film. 

You’re really trying your best to listen to her, but it’s so difficult when she sounds like that. The worst part is that she’s not even trying. She just has a voice that sounds like smoke. It’s low, and she rasps, and when she’s getting into what she’s talking about it goes high and carries these cracks that make your brain go fuzzy. And her nipples are hard against your old college t-shirt that she’s wearing. And you’ve been thinking of feeling her wrapped around you since you left for work in the morning and she was still sleeping, her hair on your pillow. 

Robin’s telling you between bites of ice cream, “...it’s not like I haven’t tried to compromise with them. I don’t know. What do you think, baby?” 

You haven’t been paying attention. You’ve been absentmindedly eating your ice cream, just listening to the sound of her voice and not the actual words. There’s no way to even pretend like that wasn’t the case, because Robin can tell when she looks at you. 

“I’m sorry, Rob. Okay? I wasn’t listening, baby. I’m sorry. But it’s your fault. It’s your stupid voice.” You’re pouting slightly, and Robin knows what you mean when you call her voice stupid. 

Robin moves from where she was leaning against the kitchen sink to step closer to you and stand between your legs as you sit on the counter. She’s taken both your now empty bowls of ice cream and moved them aside, placing cold fingertips on the inside of your knee. “My voice?” Robin’s asking, just so she can hear you elaborate. 

“Yeah. I wish you sounded like Kermit or something so I wouldn’t want to jump your bones every time you open your mouth.” You’re mostly kidding, settling your hands at the nape of her neck and feeling her damp hair on your fingers. Then Robin starts to laugh. 

“God, don’t laugh! That’s even worse than when you talk. I hate what it does to me.” You’re doing a horrible job at scolding her. Because whatever blood flow was rushing to your brain has since abandoned your brain and moved elsewhere. 

“Aww, it’s okay Y/N. But really, what are we gonna do about this?” She’s evil. She’s torturing you, and worst of all, she’s enjoying it. She’s tracing little shapes on your inner thighs now and rubbing her nose against the column of your throat, just staying there. Her head is right under your nose, you can smell her shampoo and you’re losing more of the little grip you had on reality before. 

You duck your head under to kiss her earlobe. “I don’t know. I’d have to fuck you with earplugs on, I guess.” 

Robin is so vocal, she always has been. You can hear all her little sighs and feel her lips curling up into a smile against your throat. She starts nipping at your collarbone and kneading her hands against your hips. Once she feels you shiver she stops and you immediately whine a little, missing her teeth on you. She looks at you and says, “But you love my voice too much to do that.” You’re so needy, and you’ve had enough of her teasing. So you finally kiss her, licking into her mouth. She tastes like the ice cream you both just ate and you can’t stop. She rakes her hands up your t-shirt, brushing a thumb across your nipple. You feel all the air move out of your lungs. But it’s still not enough, you want more. You’re desperately moving as close to Robin as possible, ass right at the edge of the kitchen counter. Robin’s the first to pull away and catch her breath. With her face a little flushed, you already miss the warmth of her cheeckbone against your skin. She pulls one of her hands away from your breast to brush her thumb against the pillow of your bottom lip. “Can you open for me, baby?” 

You love putting her fingers in your mouth, you love it even more when she’s asking you to. You obediently suck on her fingers. She’s almost cooing at you, she even starts brushing your hair away from your face. “There you go. Y’look so pretty.” 

When she says stuff like that it makes you wet instantly. You can feel yourself dampening, almost embarrassed about the effect she has on you. You pull your mouth off her fingers to say, “I’ve been thinking about you all day. And you’re in my t-shirt. Seriously baby, what’s your problem?” You whine at Robin because she hasn’t touched you where you want yet. 

She does this exaggerated gasp that only makes you wetter. This woman has a death wish against you. “Lucky for you, I like it when you’re a little mean,” She inches her hands just a little higher, hooking her fingers inside your panties but still not touching your clit. It’s the slowest few seconds ever until she finally palms at your center. “What are you so wet for, hm?” Robin asks as if she doesn’t know the answer. 

You’re touching her wherever you can but it still doesn’t feel like enough. Your knees are hitched up right where her hips are, and you’re squeezing the curve of her ass to try and get her as close as she can possibly get to you. You sigh against her, “Don’t make me say it…” 

“Please?” She has the most devilish look in her eye when she adds the next part, “For me?” Then she dips her fingers in your panties and starts rubbing circles into your clit. It feels so good you start rolling your eyes back. 

“I hate you,” You tell her while sloppily kissing the flat of her forehead. 

She’s sucking little love bites into the side of your neck. She is filled with cockiness as she says, “No, you don’t.” She easily dips her fingers inside of you. You gasp against the feeling of your cunt being filled by her fingers. 

“Baby, give me your fingers,” You’re requesting for her fingers back in your mouth, needing something to suck on while you ride her fingers against the kitchen counter. This is so dirty, you both know it. But you both are too horny to care, as she keeps pumping her fingers in and out of you. You can feel her nipples rub against yours, losing your mind at the friction. Robin brings her thumb to your clit, rubbing circles into it torturously slow. You’re moaning around her fingers in your mouth and keeping your eyes glued to her, counting all the freckles between her eyes. 

“You sound so good. You’re doing good, baby.” 

“Think, fuck, think I need those earplugs,” You tell her because if she keeps talking to you like this you’ll combust. 

Since Robin loves to watch you squirm, she brings her lips right up against your ear and whispers, “Should I be quiet? Would you like that better?” 

The little puffs of air against your ear, Robin’s hair grazing the side of your face, the way her eyes keep opening a little wider and wider to look at you, having her like this still isn’t something you’re used to. When she hits that spot inside you that makes you squirm, you take a second to recalibrate yourself before saying to her, “You’re so cocky tonight, how come?”

Robin makes a good effort to pretend to think while she just takes you closer and closer to the edge, all your senses blurring more and more the longer she goes on for. She keeps chasing the same spot above your breast with big kisses, sweetly reminding you that she can be both doting and drive you insane. 

Ultimately, she is too eager of a lover to truly be a tease. “Not cocky, just know who I have,” she starts rubbing circles into your clit a little faster, making you arch into her, hard nipples right against Robin. You’re falling a part quickly, Robin is pulling out little whimpers from short sighs, all you want is for her to keep talking you through it. “She’s pretty great, but she’s always saying she hates me,” Robin fake pouts at you.

You’re clench as she fingers you deeper. With a maon you tell her, “Fuck, I don’t-don’t think she hates you right now.” 

Robin smirks, her lips pulling up in the corners and attaching themselves to your collarbone, her final move to drive you insane and right to the edge. “Stay right there, you’re almost there,” It’s only a matter of moments until Robin speeds up and brings you over the edge. That clenching in your stomach releases and you let out one more moan right against the shell of Robin’s ear, carding your fingers through her still-damp hair. 

“God, fuck,” You’re still catching your breath, missing Robin’s fingers in you already. You look at her with that dazed and moony-eyed expression you get after she makes you come. 

Robin’s already smiling and looking too pleased with herself. After a little pause she says, “Still need those earplugs?”

With equal parts adoration and annoyance you tell her, “You’re insufferable,” 

[likesunsetorange]

here's something from ch 1 of the bodyguard au! i had to basically rewrite everything hence why it's taken so long lol but it's coming along now so very soon haha! here's mikasa's pov! i think this is the first thing i've shown from her pov even in between drabbles and everything! a little angsty but hope y'all like it

cw: allusions to alcoholism/drinking problems

This isn’t Mikasa’s first drunken night, the kind where things get a bit out of hand. The ones that consist of more than just drunken texts and lead to bad hangovers, but the ones where word gets around in their social circles, something that seemed to be the norm as of recently. Some of it, in part, was because she was twenty-one—it’s expected. 

But today, like some of the other days, the drinks are for the purpose of pacifying her feelings of rage, despondency, and resentment. So there were one too many drinks poured down her throat, and at some point, she lost count, too upset to bother caring. But for the sake of appearances, she forces a smile on her face for her so-called friends—nobody wants to hear her problems on a Saturday night.

She struggles to maintain her balance, her hands palming her face, attempting to shut out the spinning world around her—the direct result of two, three, four shots—she can’t remember at this point, but when can she ever, really? Mikasa sits crouched along the cold brick wall of the club—no matter how drunk she is, she would never allow herself to sit on a New York City sidewalk—sensing people hurrying down the street around her, itching to seek out their own Saturday night plans, not bothering to pay her any mind. 

Everything around her is fuzzy; the only thing keeping her grounded is the frigid winds whipping her hair around aimlessly, but from somewhere to the right of her, she senses a figure crouching down, a feminine-sounding voice, almost a bit angelic, “Are you okay?” She somehow manages to make out through her hazy state.

Looking over to the source of the voice, Mikasa peeks her eyes through her fingers, the sight of a blond girl leaning down to her level, a cigarette in hand meeting her gaze. The girl, albeit pretty, lacks the angelic demeanor Mikasa had initially assigned her—sporting her bartending uniform, seemingly just out taking a fifteen.

“Hey, Mikasa—that’s your name right—you okay?” The blond asks again before taking another drag of her cigarette. Mikasa struggles to recall how the girl knows her name, she scans her face again for any sense of familiarity. “Where are your friends, I thought you went back with them?” The girl blows puffs of smoke into Mikasa’s face as she talks, Mikasa still trying to grapple with the words that come out of her mouth.

“Umm,” Mikasa hesitates, trying to recall the events of the last twenty minutes. She came outside for a few minutes of respite, the club suddenly feeling overwhelming. The air inside was suffocating, enough for her to walk straight outside into 30º weather, forgetting her jacket; the alcohol running through her veins the only thing providing her warmth at this point. Mikasa finds it hard to focus, finding herself slipping into a dazed state every few seconds.

The girl looks at Mikasa blankly, waving her hand in her face to grab her attention. “Do you remember me? I’m the bartender from earlier. Hitch?” She asks. 

Mikasa blinks at her, trying to recall. Hitch. Hitch. Hitch. The name sounds familiar, almost on the tip of her tongue, until Mikasa sees the name tag that’s pinned on her shirt, reading the same name.

"Tequila pineapple?” Hitch attempts to speak over the deafening blare of the club's music.

People crowd around the bar, typical of a Saturday night, flashes of sequins and glitter reflecting off the strobe lights. Hitch eyes the inky-haired girl in front of her, whom she’s almost positive is the one for whom the drink she called out is for. She stares at the girl in front of her, her head is perched on her hand as she seemingly almost dozes off, her perfectly tied red ribbon swaying from the blaring AC above them.

“Hey, are you alright?” Hitch calls out again.

Her voice snaps Mikasa out of her hazy state, alcohol pumping through her veins, causing her vision to go a bit fuzzy. She whips her head in the direction of where she hears the voice coming from, almost knocking her purse over where it sits on the bar in the process.

The blonde bartender's face floods with concern as Mikasa's gaze meets her green eyes, clearly realizing just how drunk she really is. Mikasa simply nods in response, a dazed grin on her face as Hitch hesitantly hands Mikasa her drink, sliding Mikasa the tab with her card.

“Thanksss—,” Her words slur together before she takes a brief pause to look at her name tag, “—Hitch! You're sooo pretty, by the way.” Mikasa fumbles with the pen as she signs her name, which ends up being more of a scribble than her actual signature. Her mind draws a blank as she attempts to drunkenly calculate the total with the tip, so she settles for making it $100, figuring someone as nice as Hitch would probably appreciate the tip.

"Thank you,” Hitch starts, eyeing her briefly before pausing, unsure of what to refer to her as

“—Mikasa," she interrupts, giving her a soft smile, her cheeks flushed red from the alcohol. Mikasa leans against the counter, almost swaying side to side, clearly unable to maintain her balance.

“Mikasa. Right. You're very pretty too. But, umm, where are your friends? You probably shouldn't be drinking anymore, either,” Hitch says, her face filled with concern. 

Mikasa turns towards the club, scanning around until she gets to the back right corner, a group of a few handfuls of girls and a few guys occupying one of the club’s nicer sections. “Over there,” she points. 

“Okay, well, take this at least,” Hitch says, handing her a glass of water, knowing she can’t be babysitting a random patron when there’s a handful of people waiting on drinks. “Be safe, please.”

Mikasa takes the drink from the counter, flashing her a big smile, “You too, thanks,” she replies in between sips before walking off towards her friends.

Her memory, though still a bit hazy, comes back to her, “Ohhh,” Mikasa replies, nodding.

Hitch shakes her head and sighs, while she’s not necessarily upset, it’s certainly not how she had planned on spending her break. “Look. Clearly, you’re drunk. Do you want a hit? Might sober you up some,” she says nonchalantly, almost as if she offers drunk girls outside the club hits of her cigarettes often. Had she not been a girl (and Mikasa sober), she would definitely raise some red flags. The girl offers her hand out to Mikasa, motioning for her to take the cigarette.

Mikasa thumbs the cigarette in between her fingers, knowing she’s never even smoked before, but her lack of discernment left her two shots ago—probably even before that, especially given everything that’s happened lately. Her lungs burn as she inhales, smoke filling them instantly, and she’s not even sure if she’s doing it correctly until she erupts into a fit of coughs, clearly answering her own question. She has her vices already—nicotine wasn’t going to be one of them. 

“Okay, maybe that wasn’t much help—sorry,” the girl says, taking the cigarette out of her hand and patting her back as Mikasa coughs fervently. “But seriously, where are your friends? What are you doing outside—it's fucking freezing, Mikasa,” she says while readjusting her own jacket.

“They’re—” cough “—inside—” cough — “—I—” cough “—left,” Mikasa somehow manages to choke out through slurred words and coughs. 

[elliespassagerprincess]

𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

This story is based off the song, Moonlight by Kali Uchis! If you can, listen to the song as you're reading:)

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Jackson!Ellie Williams x fem!reader

Requests are open!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: mentions of weed, swearing, mentions of clothes being ripped off, and sexual themes

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: Ellie getting high with her "lover"

𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

𝐕𝐞𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐮ñ𝐞𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐥 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐣𝐨

𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Ellie sat across you, as you took the blunt between your fingers. You brought it up to your lips, as you took a deep breathe. As you breathed in, you closed your eyes as the smoke filled your lungs. Slowly breathing out, you already started to feel fuzzy.

It was Ellie's favorite time of the day. It was night time. There was barley any light in the room where you and Ellie sat- it was only the moonlight shining in from the windows.

Ellie couldn't help but to stare at you in awe. Your lips slightly swollen, you eyes closed, head thrown back- and the moonlight shining across your features made it 10 times better.

You were dressed up. Wearing a blue flowy summer dress. You had planned on going out that night, but then Ellie showed up and begged you to go smoking with her, and you said yes because who wouldn't? its Ellie fucking Williams.

You being dressed up, and under the moonlight, had Ellie going feral. She wanted nothing more but to get up and rip your clothes off of you. But she didn't. She couldn't. Because you weren't hers.

You suddenly opened your eyes, and Ellie started blushing- in fear that you might have caught her staring. You sat up slightly giving her the blunt.

"here" you said softly and Ellie just knew by the sound of your voice you were higher than a kite.

It was moments like these where Ellie fell more and more in love with you. The two of you, alone. Doing one of her favorite activities- smoking.

Ellie loved getting high with you. Hell, you were a drug to her, so you and weed together fucked her up even more. She wished you were hers. Her girl. Her lover. She wished she could get high with you all the time.

She wished she could get high with her lover, who isn't her lover. Yet.

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫

𝐏𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬

𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥, 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡

You laid on the sofa across from Ellie, you legs sprawled out in front of you. Your dress was riding up your thighs as you kept moving and Ellie felt like she was going to explode by the sight. Your eyes were still closed, your head still thrown back.

'fuck me' me ellie said out loud.

'mhm' you questioned, opening one eye to look at her. You were so fucking high. It felt like you were floating. You heard Ellie mumble something and it brought you back to earth.

'n-n-nothing' Ellie said quickly.

Ellie never stutters you thought to yourself, but you assumed because she was just as fucking high as you were.

'c'mon hurry up' you said motioning at the blunt Ellie was holding.

'oh yeah' she said as if she forgot that she was smoking.

Truth be told she did. You fuck up her mind. You make her nervous. You make her forget things.

She quickly gave you the blunt and once again you took it between your lips and closed your eyes in pleasure. Ellie wondered if you were doing this on purpose. Teasing her. Taunting her.

Smoke filled the room as you breathed out and Ellie was staring once again. eyes trailing your body. She took the blunt from your hand, your fingers brushing slightly and she felt a jolt of electricity go up her spine at the touch. Before she could put the blunt into her mouth, to try and shake off these thoughts she was having of you, you reached down into your bag to grab a tube of lip gloss. Ellie watched you carefully, as you laid back down. You opened the lip gloss, and applied it to your lips.

Ellie wanted nothing more but to lean over and kiss you. You felt her eyes burning holes into your head, you turned to her she looked away immediately. You put the lip gloss down, closed your eyes and you let out a soft 'hurry up'.

Ellie was fucked. She was turned on. She was in love. She was obsessed. She was high. She didn't know what to do.

There you were laying across from her. Exposed thighs, glossed lips, eyes closed, head thrown back. 'Fuckmefuckmefuckme' she thought over and over again.

She decided there and then she was never getting high with you again. (she knew she would invite you again)

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞

She could already imagine it. Coming home after patrol you being there waiting for her. Maybe in the kitchen cooking for her, wearing no panties. Maybe shed walk in on you waiting for her on the bed. She imagines coming home to you already licking the sides of the blunt, handing one to her as the two of you smoked in your home.

Her dreams could become a reality if she wasn't such a fucking pussy. Ellie would never admit it to anyone but you were her safe heaven. Over the years of knowing you, you somehow became her comfort. After hard days of patrol she'd always go visit you and her mood changes instantly. Apart from all her dirty thoughts Ellie wanted nothing more but to come home to you, and to comforted by you. To be held. To be babied.

The world you lived in was hell. It was darkness, but you were her light and you didn't even know. She felt free with you. She felt safe. If she could she would escape from this world. And she would take you with her.

𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥, 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫?

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨

𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫

𝐍𝐨-𝐧𝐨-𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨

As the night went on the two of you got higher and higher.

You were asleep. The moonlight looming over your features and Ellie just admired you. She loved the moon. She loved you. She loved you to the moon and back. She always wanted to be an astronaut when she was younger. She wanted to go to the moon and she wanted to take you with her. (She assumed there would be no infected on the moon) She laid on her side watching you as you slept. She silently thanked the moonlight from making you look even more angelic than you already were. She took one last puff before the blunt was finished and when she was done with it she discarded it somewhere on the table and she looked at you. There was nothing she wouldn't do for you. Getting high with you was the best decision she ever made.

She watched as you were sleeping, your chest rising slowly, your thighs still on display. You were going to be hers. She will make sure of it. Nothing and no one was going to stop her. She was going to make you her lover.

And she just did just that. A few days later the two of you were in the room cuddling and getting fucked up together.

Ellies dreams finally became a reality. She was getting high with her lover.

Authors note: Thank you so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! Remember to always spread love and to be kind to one another! Feel free to request or message me or anything! Let me know if i made any mistakes....

Yours truly, Zia:)

[fantastical-euphoria]

i found my older brother sam outside one night, having a smoke out back.

just seeing him with his ratty hair down, swaying slightly in the breeze, the light of the match, the gentle puff of smoke, even the smell, brought me such strange comfort.

“what have you been doing?” he asked me as i sat next to him on the step.

“listening to sad music,” i shrugged. “couldn’t handle it anymore so, i came out here.”

sam instantly shook his head. “kris, you can’t do that.”

i laughed slightly, “why not?”

“because,” he turned to me, a serious look in his eyes and even moreso in the inflection in his tone, “that makes you want to cry. and i told you never to cry in front of me.”

“i know,” i nodded. “why did you say that?”

“because… it makes me worry. a lot. and it drives me to fall back into old habits when i get upset like that…” he sighed. “i had a dream last night where i got admitted back to rehab. a third time. only this time…” he swallowed hard. “i didn’t make it.”

“sammy, no…”

he nodded. “i hated dreaming about it. i actually woke up from it, and i started pacing around the room. i was so panicked. you know my biggest fear is, is killing myself, for some… some stupid reason. like drugs. alcohol. narcotics. i can’t… i can’t slip back. i’m too afraid to. yet i know i’m perfectly capable. and that’s what’s scary to me…” he hung his head down, shaking slightly, kind of wrapping his arms around himself in a way. like he was trying to protect himself, but it just didn’t have the same impact.

“sammy,” i rubbed his back, in an effort to console, “there’s lots of things that i like about you. like…” i thought for a minute. “i think you have a pretty smile. please don’t ever mess it up.” i pointed to the cigarette. “those can do that.”

he looked back over at me, chuckling slightly. “y’know i’ll never kick this old habit. dirty old thing.” he took one puff of it and snuffed it out, tossing it aside before putting an arm around me. “y’know what i’d rather be, above anything else, before anything else. i want to be present. i want to be in your life. around you. spending all the time i have with you. having fun with you. enjoying the world with you, and life itself.”

“i know,” i leaned into his side embrace. “i worry about you tons. but i know that you’re doing okay. and i know you’re trying hard to live a normal life, as a non-addict. you’re trying to find distractions.” i pointed to the moon. “like that.” i turned to him. “isn’t it pretty?”

he smiled wide and nodded, the light from it casting a shiny reflection over his eyes. “i wish i could take a good picture of it, and not have it be this fuzzy white speck in this sea of darkness.”

“it sucks,” i agreed. “well, i’m just trying to think of other things we can do.” i smiled. “i like going to art museums. i wanna make you appreciate real art. not just what you think is art.”

“what i think is art?” he echoed with a lighthearted cadence. “c’mon, the original streetfighter is nothing short of a masterpiece. 21 jump street? beverly hills cop? those are *cinema.* seriously.” he empathized his points with dramatic hand gestures.

i rolled my eyes as i laughed at his obliviousness. “maybe you watch them a bit too much.”

he shrugged. “maybe i do. i’m stuck in the rut known as the 80’s, what can i say.”

“does henry like watching those movies?” i asked.

“sometimes. when he’s here,” sam pointed to the ground. “but he’s just too busy with work and such to be concerned with leisure right now.” he pulled open his phone and tapped open the text thread he had with him. “see, i wish i had it like he did. it’s so easy to take your mind off of what’s troubling you when you actually have something to serve that purpose.” he shook his head. “and right now, i don’t, so… it’s harder for me to…”

suddenly a flash of lightning caught our sight stemming from our right. it was heat lightning, too far away to really affect us.

“white lightning,” sam mused, nodding over that direction. “wouldn’t that be such a cool stage name?”

“it really would,” i nodded in agreement.

sometimes, if it was warm enough, we slept outside, laying in the grass, pretending the backyard was a giant mattress, as ticklish to our skin as it was. sam would always take off his hoodie and lend it to me so i could use it as a pillow.

“what about your pillow?” i asked him. “wont laying on the cold hard ground hurt your neck?”

“nah,” he shook his head, “i’m too beat to feel uncomfortable in any form.”

i’d still worry, though, cause that’s just the type of person i was.

i hated to think how a brain like his that was constantly overthinking was able to stabilize for the evening and settle for the night, pretending there was nothing but an empty space up there.

i wasn’t good at pretending. i always had the tendency to show my true colors. which sometimes came out in the rawest form, sometimes too powerful for me to realize. and i didn’t intend to hurt anyone, honest. especially sam, cause i knew he was a gentle soul. he loved our dogs. he loved my parents. he loved me. he didn’t want anything bad to ever happen to me, he wanted to protect me from any elements the world could throw at me. he just wanted me to be happy. not to take after him. he knew he was the worst influence on his younger siblings. with henry, it didn’t matter as much, he was only a year younger than him, old enough and smart enough to know better.

with me, well, his dirty habits were well in effect when i was a baby. i was easily convincible. i would want to look up to him, to be exactly like him.

that’s why he always distanced himself from me, in the beginning. he always wanted me to hang out with henry. the better influence. because that was really the only way he could look after me. and i bet that pained him so much.

i could remember mom saying to me, sam began to have conversations with me when i was still a fetus in her womb. he loved me before he even knew what i looked like. before he knew what my gender was.

he wasn’t the emotional type. naturally, ever time he felt something, he had this urge to conceal it. all the drug use had made him numb to most feeling, anyway.

but when i was born, he couldn’t stop looking at me with the saddest, glossed over eyes. he wanted to talk to me. to hold me. but he smelled too much of cigarettes, mom said. he had to stay back.

henry got to hold me after mom and dad did. sam couldn’t even look that way. and i had a feeling that henry wanted sam to hold me too, he kept looking over his way sadly.

i warmed up to henry first (even though holding babies was definitely not his strong suit). mom had told me once that back when my cousins were born, henry always had the shaky grip holding them, sam’s was steady and solid as a rock.

that’s where he got his protective nature from, i guess.

he was more protective of me than mom and dad ever were. henry acted more like a fun, bad-influency (the good kind) cousin to me. sam took his role as the oldest (and especially older sibling to me) perhaps a bit too seriously.

but i wouldn’t change a thing about it.

@elliotts-personal-property

[bellarkeandclintashaandsuch]

Does Hidden Agenda look fuzzy to anyone else? Are they doing this blurry thing on purpose? Because some things are clear and some things seem fuzzy. Have people already talked about this? Do I just need to see an eye doctor? Or is it just YouTube’s quality? Is it my computer? I feel like it’s mostly when Joke and Zo are together and mainly in wide shots and shots of Zo. Is it just me? But it keeps happening, so I’m over here like, maybe it’s when Joke is pretending to help Zo but is really flirting, so it’s duplicitous and it’s like he’s hiding behind a smoke screen? Or maybe things will get clearer when there’s no more hidden agenda and they’re actually dating on purpose? Or maybe Zo is in a daze around Joke and can’t think straight. Or maybe my eyes aren’t working?

[synthe4u]

.cod #5

A/N: I INTRODUCE MY 'DREAMS' aka my writings that would only make sense if I was dreaming (they're not actual dreams)

This will include misspelling, missed punctuation, military inaccuracies, etc. This is not meant to be serious writing. It's more of a hit and run; confusion and never gonna get back to you. i have warned you.

masterlist

No man left behind, but what if Y/n did get left behind. An accident? Or maybe on purpose

“S-shit, guys!” “Evac landing” “Ghost, shit,” they coughed through the smoke. “Fuck damnit,” a few shots went through the air. Nicking his arm but going through his leg. Y/n fell onto one knee, “Ghost! Soap! Anyone?!” They called out for help but none came. They tried their comms but it was broken. No one was coming “Evac now leaving” They looked up to try and see the heli leaving but no sight of it, there was too much smoke.

-

“Hey, guys, where’s Y/n?” Soap asked, the heli was already halfway to base. The guys looked around the aircraft and had no sign of him. They knew he wasn’t in the body bags, they checked each one for enemies. Last time an enemy came through a body bag and nearly leaked their information when they came back to base.

-

You pull out a cigarette, lighting it. Getting mesmerized by the lighter before putting it away. You blew smoke out and looked around.

“Goddamn, this is some good weed” “Got any to share?” Someone was nearby. “Got a penny?” You didn’t care if it was an enemy, your men had left you whether it was on accident or purpose. I mean I know you had your fits with the pilot here and there but it wasn’t that bad.

“I have a euro” “It’ll do”

The person came closer and you got a better view of them. They wore a mask covering their mouth and nose.

“Heyo” “Pass the weed?”

You passed them the stick and they pulled down their mask. There was a scar on their left cheek.

“How’d you get that one?”

The man puffed out the smoke, “that is some good weed. Get what?”

“The scar,” you pointed to your own cheek

“Oh, some guy pulled a knife on me on the street” “Some short story that was” “Haha.” “What are you doing here?” “I’m here to collect the bodies” “One man?” “My team is lazy” “What don’t you kill me?” “You gave me good weed, a hard thing to get out here.” “Would’ve never thought”

The man offered to pull you up out of your sitting position. You grabbed his hand, and yall just stood there.

“Where to now?” “Up to you, I already collected all the bodies” “Do you wanna walk around?” “In a war zone where many have died? Sure” “When you say it like that, it makes it seem bad” “Isn’t it bad?” “It is.”

You both walked around encountering other people who were chill with you being there even though you were their previous enemy.

“Y’all make it seem like y’all are gonna come and stab me when I’m not looking” “Why?” “The kindness is a little much for me”

They go out to hug you and you try to pull away

“Hey! Let go!” “You just need some affection” “I don’t wanna be fuzzy” “Too bad”

Meanwhile as Y/n made a new friend, The base

The boys were down because they lost a friend. He was likely KIA but they didn’t find their body so they’re labeled as MIA.

A call suddenly rang through the base. No one called unless it was important plus not many knew the number to the phone. So it was weird

Price went to answer it, “Hello?”

“Hey Price, so funny story I’m living life rn, like actually. I’m at a resort with these people and it’s like oh my gosh. Can I stay?”

“Y/n?” Price was confused and shocked “Yes captain?” “You’re alive?” “Yes captain”

Soap being. The nosey body he is was listening to the conversation and told the others in the room that y/n was alive. The others were shocked as well to know they were alive.

Soap also told them he was staying at a resort.

Gaz heard that and replied, “What?!” He threw his hands up, “they said they would go with me!”

Soap also told them you wanted to stay but Price said no.

Y/n being lazy told them to come pick them up in a fancy car to make it seem like they’re rich.

Y/n exchanged numbers with the people he was with and told them he was leaving. The others were down of course but knew that y/n would return next time he had his leave as what he had said.

[the-jnadf-man]

Oh, this is gonna be fun.

1: Up to three hours if you knock him out. If he's awake, only about half an hour.

2: Very.

3: Just sorta falls over when he feels like sleeping.

4: Not THAT hard. He's usually the one you should mistrust.

5: He's too fucking smug to assume he'd miss if someone lies to him (Which, granted, he usually doesn't), which leads to situations where he fully trusts people he either knows or doesn't know are lying.

6: VERY flexible.

7: Memories of his old home. He really likes the feeling, and hopes to return there sometime soon.

8: "Maddun, the things in the fridge aren't just for you."

9: His first swear was "Fuck", and he regularly says it to this day, like most people.

10: He happily reminisces about the time he successfully pretended to join a doomsday cult to save his boyfriend every other day.

11: He either rolls with it or asks for clarification depending on the context.

12: There are no such itches, given people made of smoke don't have the biological bits necessary for that, but if he was in that situation, he'd find the closest long object and use it to scratch the unreachable spot.

13: Blue. All the blue. Maybe with a bit of purple. I have no idea if he looks best in it, since I haven't drawn him in anything else, but I assume he does, in fact, not look good in bright yellow.

14: He'd rather not be around those lizards that shoot blood from their eyes. Moreso because they stain his outfit than any actual fear, though.

15: He has next to no impulse control, but boy he tries to sometimes rehearse when things are serious.

16: Mind control.

17: Nnnno. Hard no. He's very openly a clown (Metaphorically, he doesn't wear makeup, wigs, or big noses).

18: Failing to grab attention or flubbing something he was really looking forward to doing.

19: 42.

20: "Now, see, when you fall in love *romantically* with someone, you feel really nervous around them. I never had that problem personally, but hey, that's what I'm told. You'll also feel warm, fuzzy, and maybe a bit excited inside whenever you're in the same general area. If you're platonically in love with someone, that's when you're basically just the best of friends that either married for tax purposes or they're your family that didn't mistreat you and you have no reason whatsoever to dislike them."

21: On the rare occasion he sleeps, he wakes up because his dreams consist of replays of his memories, and rewatching a movie can only be done so many times before boredom sets in.

22: If he's jealous of a skill, he'll learn it. If he's jealous of a possession, he'll get something cooler. If he's jealous of attention he isn't getting, he hijacks the news station and broadcasts advertisements for his next show (Which he conveniently rescheduled to in an hour).

23: See above? Not really clear on the difference.

24: He's ace, and has no interest whatsoever in sex. He doesn't dislike talking about it, but he considers it an extremely boring topic.

25: Big fan of it. He's hoping to get in a gay marriage soon.

26: Portals. Usually has to ask someone else to open them due to being too stubborn to learn anything but illusionism, though.

27: The idea of something bad happening to Victor again. Especially possession.

28: No.

29: Usually, yes.

30: This little shit called Kainsjoar.

31: Victor, his boyfriend.

32: Living that long's given him plenty of them.

33: Probably, with a given definition.. He could be doing important shit at any given moment, but he can usually be found screwing around whenever possible. Usually off the job, thankfully.

34: Depends on what caused it. He'll feel guilty for a pretty long time if he, for example, killed someone that stops existing instead of going to the afterlife, but he usually gets over most forms of guilt in a few hours.

35: He's a fantastic liar and/or actor. Even if he doesn't give a shit, he'll usually feign interest to some degree, or at least let them down politely when telling them he doesn't care.

36: Didn't really do it on purpose, given he didn't care about romance at the time, but he accidentally found a boyfriend.

37: Yeah, he thinks back to the last song he heard and finds a lyric that rhymes with whatever he's trying to remember. If there's no such lyric, it's onto the next song, rinse and repeat until a rhyme is found.

38: The first few months after he was made. Good times.

39: He's got a criminal record a mile long (Assuming you count each count of loitering, tax evasion, and distributing ludicrously overpriced things for free individually). He doesn't judge.

40: He's working on it, but he tends to get at least slightly offended whenever someone points them out.

41: Adopted six of them throughout his life. Regularly gets blackmailed into babysitting a set of triplets, and is usually fine with it.

42: Assuming he even has an end goal, he's willing to do most things we'd consider horrid.

43: Flash an illusion of the biro/ace flag at whoever asked because he doesn't have the patience for an in-depth explanation.

A: He's mine, I really like the design I came up with, he's fun to use, and illusions are my favorite kind of magic to see used creatively.

B: Can't remember the original reason, but the latest rework started because I was rightfully called out on using a very boring, basic, generally unfun character.

C: I'm still working on that, so yes.

D: A lot of traits have stayed the same, but I've redesigned him once or twice.

E: I'd like to think we'd get along alright, I guess.

F: I feel proud when I look at how far he's come, feel dread when I wonder what people'll think of him, and feel extremely ashamed when I remember how bad he originally was.

G: I'm genuinely afraid I've made him too self-insert-y, but my creativity isn't strong enough to change that.

H: His general shamelessness. He's a lot less scared to be himself and talk to people than me.

I: I like inserting him wherever he fits, though I'm not sure if that's a good thing.

J: Hard question, given his whole universe and canon and stuff came only after I started making him good and actually maybe a character and stuff.

Uncommon Questions for OCs and their creators:

Send me a # (questions for OCs) or a letter (questions for creators) and I’ll answer

QUESTIONS FOR YOUR OCs

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

How easy is it for your character to laugh?

How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

How easy is it to earn their trust?

How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child

Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

What animal do they fear most?

How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

What makes their stomach turn?

Are they easily embarrassed?

What embarrasses them?

What is their favorite number?

If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

Why do they get up in the morning? 

How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)? 

How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)? 

 Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom? 

 What are their thoughts on marriage? 

 What is their preferred mode of transportation? 

 What causes them to feel dread? 

 Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth? 

 Do they usually live up to their own ideals? 

 Who do they most regret meeting? 

 Who are they the most glad to have met? 

 Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke? 

 Could they be considered lazy? 

 How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? 

 How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive? 

Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap? 

Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)? 

What memory do they revisit the most often? 

How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people? 

How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

How do they feel about children? 

How badly do they want to reach their end goal? 

If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so? 

QUESTIONS FOR CREATORS

A) Why are you excited about this character? B) What inspired you to create them? C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story? D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look? E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you? F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)? G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most? H) What trait do you admire most? I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe? J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?