#Whoever aims in the toilet

[spikeplushiehaj]

I’m aiming in the trash can or corner

“Guys where do you pee?” Reddit comments visualised

by adamjonah/reddit

[mydear-corinthian]

Protection || Thomas Shelby x reader

Synopsis: You were protecting your son, Charlie when Billy Kimber's men ambushed your shared home. Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort, reader gets injured, gun violence, mentions of blood, swearing, Grace's being mentioned once - s2 spoiler Notes: Not proofread, grammatical errors, GIF is mine Click here to find the main masterlist. Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.

As another regular evening took place, a sense of peace descended over Thomas Shelby and his wife's shared home. While Tommy was busy with his business and papers, you found yourself wandering the enormous area of the estate with your young son, Charlie.

Marriage with Tommy wasn't for the faint of heart. You were highly aware of the ongoing danger that accompanied his lifestyle, the circulating threats and enemies that followed your husband's every step. Despite the obvious risks your love for him remained strong. You treasured him not as an infamous gangster, but as the man who made you feel valued, protected, and appreciated.

There was nothing but silence in the huge home; you could hear the clock ticking and the curtains flapping as the breeze shook the cloth. It was a Saturday night, so the maids weren't working, leaving you and Charlie alone. Charlie's eyelids were going drowsy as you cuddled him, softly caressing his back and humming his favorite lullaby. Looking at the clock, you realized how late it was, and Tommy hadn't returned home yet.

You heard the main entrance door open with a loud bang. Although it seemed strange, you assumed Tommy was just returning from a stressful day at work. Charlie woke up from his sleep and let out a loud cry when you heard gunfires as you were ready to leave your shared room. You were so terrified that you thought your legs were paralyzed. Without wasting any time, you grabbed Charlie and put his little body against your shoulder, giving him a tight hug.

With Charlie in one hand, you dashed to the door, locked it almost instantly, and took out the Enfield No. 2 six-bullet handgun that your husband had given you as a birthday present from the nightstand's drawer. You grab the gun and duck into the shared bedroom's bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

The room was filled with the sound of the little Shelby's piercing cries, which seemed to come from every corner. You tried so hard to soothe him, cooing softly, but all it did was make his cries louder and more echoing through the walls. As you tried to calm him, your hands trembled with fear and your fingers stuttering, a sign of your growing terror running down your face. You felt powerless in the face of Charlie's constant tears, and you started to search for a way out of the mess.

You started nervously to pray while holding a child in your arms. Tears were beginning to fall from your eyes and the prayers were mumbling on your lips.

Charlie and you were found by whoever was in your shared room as you heard the door slam. Breathless, you lowered your son onto the empty, shallow bath tub behind you and spoke to him to stop crying. and that you will return quickly. When the toilet door opened, two armed men in a hideous black suit and a top hat appeared; they were Billy Kimber workers.

One of the armed men circled around you and exclaimed, "Aye look, it's Mrs. Shelby," as you aimed your handgun at him, your hands shaking with terror. You've never been skilled with a gun. Tommy giving you a gun like that surprised you. He would not stop stating, "You'll use that in the future."

and perhaps the future was today.

"Suprised a Shelby doesn't know how to use a gun. How about we gift Thomas Shelby the lifeless body of his dear wife?" the man laughed. You raised the gun without thinking, your hand steady from the rush of adrenaline pumping through you, and took aim at the man's skull. The bullet cracked sharply and shot out of the barrel, piercing the air and hitting its target with terrifying accuracy. With a bleak proof to your determination, fortune smiled on you as the bullet hit accurate, plunging into the man's forehead with fatal force and instantly taking his life.

Attempting to fire another shot to the other man, you missed.

Suddenly, you heard a bang go off but paid no mind. Attempting to shoot again, you finally succeded; three bullets all over the now lifeless man's torso. The sight of the lifeless bodies made you feel sick but you chose to ignore it as you dropped your used gun to go and grab Charlie and ask for help. You grabbed your son right away, immediately hugging him and kissed his little forehead.

Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice calling out your name; Tommy.

His voice reaching out for you made you sigh with relief. Your husband ran toward you as your legs found their way to the stairs to return to him. You embraced him, resting your head on his chest and taking in his manly scent as you exhaled. "Oh god, Tommy.."

She took Charlie out of your arms and gave you a minute to rest in Tommy's calming presence in Polly's comforting presence. Tommy's hand gently cradled the back of your head as you leaned into him, seeking solace from the chaos of the moment in his gentle, comforting touch. His voice, a comforting whisper that passed through the chaos, whispered, "You're safe now, love."

He felt a warm wetness on his dark blue vest, making him break the hug to see what it was.

Tommy's eyes widened in fear at what he saw, and he let out a gasp. Once an image of elegance, your immaculate white evening gown now had a scarlet stain of blood creeping across it, the color standing out against the fabric. The room seemed to spin in a dizzying twister, threatening to paralyze you as the color faded from your face, your face was pale and your vision seemed to spin like a twister.

"Did you get shot?" he worriedly asked. Confused by his question, you looked down at your stomach, seeing the color red slowly colonizing your white evening gown.

"I - I um.. Tommy, I feel dizzy.." your fragile legs gave up, his strong arms catched you almost immediately.

Your eyes were starting to drop, your body was slowly getting cold, your muscles giving up.

"T - Tommy, why is so cold..?"

Fuck, he mentally cursed at the sight that met his eyes. It was as if God had judged him once more. Grace - this seemed so familiar. His fingers were shaking with fear and worry, his eyes were beginning to water, and his heart had stopped.

"We need a medic!" Polly shouted.

He tries to calm himself down by caressing the strands of your hair before tucking it behind your ear. "Please, stay." he begged.

His frustration was boiling over and his impatience was burning in the way he spoke. He gave orders for the medics with a strong edge to his voice, desperation and anger infusing each word as he demanded their immediate presence.

"Tommy.." you softly called his name before darkness took you.

Your stomach hurt and your brain throbbed when you woke up. Beside you, you noticed your husband uncomfortably sleeping on the wooden chair. You noticed that the ash tray on the table stand next to you was filled with used cigarettes, indicating that you had been out for a while. You were trying to sit up and Tommy woke up to the sound of your pained moans. His bright blue eyes met yours. Eyebags developed under his eyes as a result of struggling to sleep due to the chance that you wouldn't wake up anymore.

"Easy, love." he said.

In an attempt to prevent him from harming you, he cradled your back so you could lie down peacefully once more—as though you were a piece of glass that would shatter the moment it was touched.

He deeply blames himself for what happened to you. If only he was there that night. If only he went home early, you and Charlie wouldn't be in this situation.

"Where's Charlie?" you asked right away, your eyes looking everywhere in the room to see if your child was there or not.

"He's with Aunt Pol, (y/n). He's safe with her, don't worry."

With both of his hands clasped around yours, he sobbed out loud in front of you, unable to stop himself from crying. He felt responsible, guilty, and like a terrible partner for failing to give you protection.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry.." he cried as he apologized, kissing your hands.

You smiled softly as you placed your right hand on his face for him to look at you.

"It's not your fault, Tommy. The good thing is that me and Charlie are safe." reassuring, you gave him a weak smile.

"I thought I lost you." he exhaled in exhaustion, standing up as he kissed your head.

"I would never leave you, Tommy."

"Please don't."

[immoral-stranger]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 // 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑. 💋 “I can get a little drunk, I get into all the don’ts but on good days I am charming as fuck.” – Tove Lo, Moments.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem! reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: None except alcohol and drunkenness.

A/N: Sike, you're getting the first letter tonight. It's cute as fuck. Dedicated to all my girlies (gn) who get Tove Lo drunk when aiming for Pitbull drunk.

Charles wasn’t sure why he had agreed to go out tonight. Monaco’s nightlife, as dazzling as it was, had become an overplayed record to him. Especially during the summer with all the tourists. He remembered being freshly turned 18 and discovering it (legally) for the first time. It had been magical. Now it was a done deal, a well-rehearsed story, knowing how it would go from beginning to end. Maybe that was why he actually preferred spending time on his yachts or on some small remote resort on some small remote island during his summer break from the racing calendar. 

Alas, here he was, tipsy from an overly sweet cocktail in a VIP booth at Jimmy’z. His friends were having fun, as were his friends’ friends and whoever else could get close enough to leech on, knowing that Charles was definitely the one paying the tab. It seemed to be the primary talent of those people, sticking close enough to the rich and the famous to get something for free out of it. 

Charles found it braindead. 

He sighed, swaying half-heartedly to the DJ’s relentless house music. Was he even a fan of house music? He didn’t think so. Between the thumping bass, the flashing strobe lights, and the endless game of shouting over the noise just to make small talk, Charles felt tired.

Maybe he was getting old. But he hadn’t even hit thirty yet. Could you have a quarter-life crisis at 27?

It got to the point where he started counting down the minutes until it would be socially acceptable to excuse himself for a “bathroom break.” The moment came, and Charles seized it, weaving his way through the dance floor. He lingered in the queue for the toilets longer than necessary, opting for a stall over a urinal so he could sit in peace. He didn’t even need to pee. He just wanted to be alone. His head was spinning slightly from the alcohol. Not drunk, not even close, but his famously rigorous fitness regimen had turned him into something of a lightweight. Not that he’d admit it.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, he navigated the narrow corridor leading back to the main area of the club. That was when he felt it—a tug on his arm, insistent and clumsy. Before he could fully process what was happening, he was yanked backward and down onto a bench. Or a sofa. One of those little black pleather-clad, trashy club furnishings. 

For a fleeting moment, he considered all the reasons he hated being famous. Whatever was about to happen—selfies, autograph requests, or an inebriated declaration of undying love for Ferrari—he was sure it would test the limits of his patience.

“Hi!” a voice chirped. “Are you busy? No?”

He blinked. Sitting beside him was a girl—young and lively, a light shining in your eyes as you spoke excitedly. Or maybe just drunkenly. You had that half-glazed look of someone balancing precariously between charming and completely hammered. You spoke English. A tourist most likely. Dressed up nicely. Not like you had another choice. It was Monaco. 

As Charles was too shocked to answer, you continued talking in a heartbeat. 

“Great! Not busy.” You clasped your hands together as though you’d just agreed to the most wonderful thing in the world. “You…” you announced grandly, pointing at him, “are going to help… me.”

“I am?” Charles asked, caught between amusement and disbelief.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, as though this were obvious. You leaned heavily on Charles’ shoulder for support, your words tumbling out in a rush. “Okay, so. Here’s the situation: I lost my bag. Then I lost Emma while looking for my bag. And now—” you gestured dramatically, nearly toppling over even when sitting up—“I am stuck here. No bag, no Emma, and way, waaay too much tequila in my system.”

Charles stifled a laugh. “And you think I can help?”

“Of course!” You nodded vigorously. “If you find my bag and Emma, then this—” you gestured vaguely at yourself,—“this will no longer be a problem.”

“If I find your bag?” he found himself repeating. 

“Mhm, then you can come here to me again,” you slurred your speech a little, nodding again like your head was constantly stuck doing it. “With Emma and the bag and no problems.” 

“You can’t do it yourself?” 

“Exactly!” You pointed at him, impressed, narrowly avoiding touching his dimpled cheek with your long nail. “See, you get it. You’re a lifesaver.”

You seemed to have no idea who he was, and you were definitely drunker than you had first led on. He saw it in the way your body slumped and in your bloodshot eyes. Your hair was messy, your makeup smudged, and your dress a little wrinkled. And you were undeniably funny, totally capturing and taking over the conversation without letting Charles speak. 

He helped you to lean against the sofa, getting himself out from being your human crutch. Still, he couldn’t find a way out of being your lifesaver. 

“All right,” Charles sighed. “What does your bag look like?”

“It’s black, sparkly, and small. Like… impossibly small. A wallet with delusions. But I bought it in Paris—”

“Okay, I got it.” Charles suppressed a smile. “And Emma?”

“Tall. Blonde. Looks like she’s judging everyone but will absolutely cry over a military homecoming.”

“Right. Tall, blonde, and emotionally complex. Got it,” he repeated. “Are you sure I can leave you on your own?” 

Charles stood from the sofa, glancing at you as you leaned your head back against the wall, your eyes fluttering closed.

“I’m fiiiiine. I just need the room to stop spinning.”

For a moment, he hesitated. Enthralled by your giggle and the way you looked sort of fairy-esque with glittery eyeshadow in patches around your eyes. There was something magnetic about you, even in your dishevelled state. He couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t also slightly concerning—a young woman alone in a drunken state. You were a happy kind of drunk right now, but he had a feeling that might change quickly. 

With a final look at you, he set off into the chaos of the club. Back underneath the strobe lights and the pulsating music. Back between the warm and drunk bodies of others. Somewhere, a girl in a sparkly dress was yelling about her ex to anyone who’d listen, and he thought for a fleeting moment how easily you might have been her—except you weren’t yelling. You’d asked for his help.

He heard his friends yell after him from their place in the VIP area, probably wondering why he’d been gone for so long. But Charles was on a mission—to find a minuscule bag and a blonde woman in a crowd of not that many bags and way too many blonde women. 

The bag was easier to spot than he expected. Its sparkles caught the light as it lay abandoned, right by his feet on the dance floor. That seemed too good to be true. He picked it up, the thing so small it felt absurd in his hands. What could you even fit in here? A debit card? A single lipstick?

Charles didn’t mean to pry, but he opened it to make sure it actually was yours, and much to his surprise, he found a debit card, some spare euros, some sort of makeup product, a tampon, and a driver’s license. Fuck, you were the kind of person who looked gorgeous in official portraits. And he knew your name now. Maybe he should’ve asked for that before he decided to agree on being your knight in shining armour. 

Emma, however, was more elusive. Verging on needle in a haystack territory. He scanned the floor and the booths, getting nowhere. Looking for a girl as equally lost as you were turned out to be harder than he thought. Everyone fit so well into the orchestrated act of nightclub hierarchy that no one looked out of place. 

Admitting defeat, Charles turned to walk back to the corridor outside the toilets, hoping to find you exactly where he left you. Before he could even round the corner, he heard your voice cut through the noise. 

“I know, Emma. I know that I do this all the time and that it scares you to death.” 

Your tone was half-pleading, half-explanatory, like you were trying to win a debate and console her at the same time. The sound of it made him stop in his tracks, curiosity anchoring him to the spot.

As he edged closer, you came into view, seated exactly where he’d left you. Beside you stood Emma, arms folded tightly across her chest in a way that broadcast equal parts frustration and affection. She was, as Charles had guessed, tall, blonde, and distinctly more polished than you at the moment. Similarly dressed but with an air of sharp control. 

Emma was the kind of person you’d send in to fix a mess—not become part of one. Clearly switched into full mom mode, she had already given you a glass of what Charles prayed was water and had tied your hair into a haphazard ponytail, probably anticipating the worst-case scenario of tequila-induced disaster.

Charles lingered just out of sight, gripping your little sparkly bag as if it were a trophy. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but your voice was unmistakable and loud enough to rival the DJ. 

“I get a little drunk and I get into all the don’ts, but on good days? I am charming as fuck, and you love me for it.” 

Your voice, slurred but insistent, filled the hallway. You reached out toward her, your hands wobbling in the air until she sighed and took them. Her annoyance cracked just enough for Charles to catch the tired laugh she let slip. It was the kind of laugh that said, Yes, I love you, but you’re impossible, and I have considered leaving you in a bush once or twice.

Charles smiled to himself, your declaration replaying in his mind. Charming as fuck, indeed. He wasn’t sure if the grin tugging at his lips was due to the absurdity of the situation or the undeniable truth of your words.

He wasn’t invisible, after all, so when you were done with your exclamation to Emma, your gaze easily landed on Charles, standing somewhat pathetically, waiting just a few metres away. The moment your eyes met his, you lit up like you’d just remembered something incredibly important.

“And look!” you exclaimed, pointing toward him. Drunk you had a thing for pointing. “I had this… hot guy here to help me. He’s found my bag! You, sir, are a lifesaver.”

You’d just managed to call him both “hot” and “sir” in the same breath, and Charles wasn’t sure if it was because you didn’t know his name or if you were trying to drive him completely insane.

Emma’s head whipped toward Charles, her face shifting from surprise to a kind of restrained horror as recognition dawned. Her posture stiffened again, her folded arms tightening. While you hadn’t known who Charles was, Emma definitely did. 

“Y-you roped Charles fucking Leclerc into looking for your bag?!” 

“A what now?” you mumbled, looking between the two of them with confusion written across your face.

Charles stepped closer, handing you the bag like a peace offering. “I am… a Charles Leclerc.” 

“It’s a thing?”

“No, it’s my name.” 

You squinted at him, as though trying to decide if this explanation satisfied you. Then, with a dramatic sigh, you let your head fall back against the wall. “You should have led with that,” you pointed out. “I need to sit down. Oh wait—” You gestured weakly at your own position. “Already doing that.”

“Charles Leclerc,” Emma said, gesturing toward him with an incredulous sweep of her hand. “Formula 1 driver? Like… literally one of the best in the world?”

“Ohhh, right. We’re in Monaco,” you mumbled to yourself. 

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered something about you being impossible. Then she straightened, looking at Charles briefly before her gaze shifted to the dance floor. “I’m going to find the others and tell them it’s time to go. Don’t let her wander off again, please.”

Before Charles could respond, she disappeared into the crowd, her blonde head bobbing toward the pulsating lights. He watched her go, unsure if he’d just been handed a babysitting gig or a challenge. When he turned back, you were studying him, your head tilted slightly.

Charles hesitated, then he sat down beside you again, leaning back against the worn pleather as he looked right back at you. Up close, the club lights caught in your hair, making it shimmer like an accidental halo. He wondered if it was the alcohol in his veins or just the moment, but you looked… luminous.

“So, what now? Bag found, friend located. Mission accomplished,” he asked, almost proudly, as he relaxed further into his seat. 

You drunkenly fumbled through the belongings inside your bag, in disbelief over everything being there. “You really did solve all of my problems… Thank you,” you said softly, a hint of genuine gratitude creeping into your voice.

He smiled, his amusement softening into something warmer. “You’re welcome.”

You studied him for a moment, your gaze slower now, more deliberate. “It makes sense that you’re famous,” you said finally, as if you’d unravelled some profound mystery. “You’ve got a really pretty face.”

Charles chuckled completely unguarded. “I think that’s the tequila talking.”

“Nope,” you said, grinning with certainty. “That’s all me.”

He couldn’t help but be drawn in by your confidence, your complete lack of pretense. On top of the almost sticky pleather sofa, he could see your hand move tentatively, dancing over the fabric, aimless yet perfectly intentional. He wasn’t thinking when he grabbed it, intertwining his fingers with your own, but it felt right—and something innocent that felt this right couldn’t be wrong. 

“I think you were right,” he said, not scared to look you in the eye. “About you being charming as fuck.”

“Good,” you replied, raising your glass of water in a mock toast. “Because I think I’m keeping you here for a while.”

“Still too drunk to walk?” he teased. 

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” you declared, each syllable landing like a punchline. 

He laughed loudly, letting the chaos fade into the background, his hand grounded in yours, feeling more intimate than any drunken kiss had ever done.

Charles wasn’t dreading being in the club on a Saturday night for once, not counting the minutes until he could leave without being called boring. Instead, he found himself thinking about where you might go next—and wondering if he could come along. Even if that was a hotel room after-party or a rented apartment in Nice. You were more interesting than anything else Monaco could offer right now, and filer à l’anglaise would leave the leeches to pay for their own enjoyment. 

Thank you for reading, hope this is a good introduction to what the rest of the love letters will be like! Please comment, like, reblog, bombard me with messages, I feed off that stuff 💌

Taglist: @koko-mei @anamiad00msday @floweringanna @lucyysthings @yelenam5 @firefirevampire @alexxavicry @emails-i-can-send

(if i haven't tagged you it's because your age wasn't visible for me to verify on your blog, i keep that as a precaution even if i'm not always posting smut)

[octuscle]

Allez les bleus

Frederique, Marcel and Luc had to go to Berlin on business. They were all really looking forward to the trip. Although there was a lot to do - the three of them were assisting a French bank with the takeover of a German start-up by a French tech group - they were spending a few days without their wives and children. Frederique's children were already at university, which made the other two, whose children were still of primary school and children's card age, quite envious.

After landing in Berlin, there was a culture shock. None of them were soccer fans. They all played tennis or golf, Marcel had been quite a successful lacrosse player until he had to give up the sport two years ago at the age of 30 due to a knee injury. They hadn't realized that the European Football Championship was being held in Germany. The airport was decorated with UEFA posters, fans from all over the world were walking through the terminal, the cab rank was empty and the three of them had to take the S-Bahn into the city center.

They were surrounded by cheerful fans. Most of them were no longer sober. But all in a good mood. In their suits with their laptop bags and wheeled suitcases, the three of them were absolute strangers on the train. Even though the atmosphere was good, they were annoyed. They had already had a long day at work before they boarded the plane. They had actually been looking forward to a quiet evening. And not an odyssey on a crowded train.

The next shock came when they arrived at their hotel. It wasn't really a hotel. More like a bed and breakfast. In the middle of Berlin's gay district. The streets were not only decorated with the flags of the nations taking part in the European Championships, but also with rainbow flags. The pubs in the area mostly had black-taped windows and were obviously aimed at a fetish clientele. But even here, there were screens outside, people drinking beer and watching a football match. The atmosphere was great. But the three of them had imagined something different. This wasn't the Sofitel they usually stayed at. Whoever had booked this hotel would be ready for a rant. But now the three of them just wanted to go to bed. Looking for something to eat here for dinner was too exhausting for them at this time of night. They agreed on that. And drinking a beer on the street? Not on your life!

When Luc arrived in his room, he had to grin. Yes, this really wasn't what he was used to. But he'd never had a room with a sling in it either. In addition to the usual things, the bathroom also contained lubricant and condoms. Luc sent a picture to the WhatsApp group he had with Frederique and Marcel. Marcel replied with a picture of an Andreas cross. And Frederique sent a picture of a flyer that had been lying on his pillow:

"Yes, I got that too," wrote Marcel. Obviously a voucher for a beer in a pub down the street. "So, are you up for it?" "Tomorrow," Frederique replied. "I'm just too tired." The three of them wished each other a good night. Marcel put the contents of his suitcase in the cupboard. And there were soccer shorts and a jersey in the wardrobe. With a note saying "Welcome to UEFA Euro 2024" on it. "If you want to have fun, help yourself!". Marcel thought about it. He had googled that Spain were playing Italy today. Maybe not a bad game… He tried out the outfit. It looked a bit silly with his Hogan sneakers. It was also a bit tight and the pants were really short. But now to go downstairs, have a beer and watch the second half? Why not?

The atmosphere was great. The beer tasted better than expected. The second one too. And after the third, he had to piss. The pub's toilet was tiled in black. The lighting with black light was more than dim. Marcel could hear from the stalls that men were clearly having sex there. He just grinned. He was having fun. He took his cock out of his soccer shorts to pee. And before he knew it, a clean-shaven skinhead was kneeling in front of him and greedily opening his mouth. Shit, what the hell? thought Marcel and pissed in his open face. And then had his cock sucked.

When Marc came into the breakfast room the next morning, his two French colleagues were already sitting at the table. As usual, they were both as fit as a fiddle. Marc felt a little uncomfortable in his jeans and tight-fitting T-shirt, which showed off his body and tattoos to good effect. Hehehehehe, he thought. But these two will hardly feel comfortable in a gay guesthouse. And shit, he worked for a fintech start-up. That was a different world to the venerable BNP. The three of them went through the agenda again before leaving for Marc's employer. Marc was a developer and web designer. Numbers were not necessarily his world. But because he spoke fluent French, he had been assigned to look after the two investment bankers. It didn't matter, Frederique in particular was a hot DILF. There were worse fates… A ten-hour day, for example. Marc knew that they probably wouldn't be back at the boarding house before 9 pm. Then France played the Netherlands. The top match of the day. Surely the two of them would want to see that.

It was 9.10 p.m. when Marc was finally back in his room. He hurriedly put on his soccer outfit. He loved the knee-length soccer socks. They accentuated his shapely calves perfectly. The three of them had a date downstairs on the street. Marc had organized a high table in his local pub almost directly in front of the screen. He ordered three beers and waited. Damn it, Frederique had actually put on the outfit provided by the guesthouse. As Marc had suspected, he was in really good shape. Perhaps too well for the jersey that was stretching dangerously across Frederique's chest. Luc had only taken off his jacket and was still in his office outfit. He really wasn't interested in soccer at all. He took his beer from the table and walked a few steps away from the bar so that he could talk to his wife and children on the phone without being disturbed.

Frederique was in a good mood. He had drunk three beers by the half-time break. Marc hadn't managed that. And so he followed Frederique to the toilet at some point to relieve the pressure on his bladder. With a bit of luck, the horny skinhead from last night would be back. He loved it when a hot guy had Marc's piss flowing out of the corner of his mouth. When he arrived downstairs at the toilets, he could already see his piss face. Marc got ready. And grinned all over his face. That was definitely Frederique fucking a Dutch fan in one of the toilet cubicles.

When Fred and Marc came to breakfast together, Luc barely raised an eyebrow. He didn't care that they were both dressed far too casually for his taste. He wasn't a start-up hipster. He was just providing them with the fresh money they needed to expand. And Luc and his employer were making a good profit. No, he raised an eyebrow because they both came out of Marc's room. Fred almost naked, in just his soccer shorts. He disappeared straight back into his own room, only to sit down at the breakfast table a few minutes later, dressed more or less appropriately. Luc sighed and turned his attention back to the messages on his cell phone.

Fred and Marc were used to having to work on Saturday. They liked that about their job. Work hard, party hard. And with the new work lifestyle, the boundaries between work and leisure, between colleagues and friends, were becoming increasingly blurred anyway. If this had the effect of Fred shagging Marc in the loo in between, neither of them complained. But today they urged Luc to finish work reasonably on time. They definitely wanted to watch the Turkey-Portugal game. It was interesting from a footballing point of view, but above all they were looking forward to the hot Turkish fans. Hairy, muscular… Especially Marc's taste. But Frederique didn't mind fucking a hot, hairy ass either. If necessary, he sucked a circumcised cock first. Shit, he loves the Turks for the fact that they always keep their balls and cocks slick. Luc wasn't at the reception at 5:30 pm as arranged. When Fred knocked on his door, he opened it. On the phone. Still in his suit. Fred went to the wardrobe and pulled out the soccer outfit. "Come on, loosen up for once. It's Saturday night!" Luc smiled painfully. He pulled the door shut. And after a few minutes, still on the phone, he stepped out of his room in his soccer outfit. The two of them dragged him down to the street, Marc organized three beers and the party could begin.

Shit, some of those footballers are really fucking hot, Luc kept thinking to himself. No wonder he kept building a clearly visible tent in his shiny shorts. One of the Portuguese fans, a small but damn muscular guy, naked except for his boots and leather chaps, but with a Portuguese flag draped around his shoulders, noticed this more than clearly. The two of them shared a beer. And another. The Portuguese asked Luc if he had a room upstairs in the guesthouse, he had seen him come out of the door earlier. Luc licked his lips and nodded. Neither of them noticed how the game ended. By the time the final whistle blew, Luc was already tied to the St. Andrew's cross in his room.

"Mates, where are we watching the game? Here in the Bermuda Triangle or on the fan mile?" With his Germany jersey, it was clear what Luke's preference was. Marc and Fred would have preferred to stay here in their favorite pub, where they were drinking themselves into shape on this Sunday morning. The party and the sex before and after were more important to them. But Luke was a hardcore soccer fan. For him, it was a matter of honor to watch the game in front of the Brandenburg Gate. Marc and Fred took a sip of beer and sighed. "Okay, fan mile then," Marc moaned. "OMG, like if we can catch that Albania vs Spain match at our spot again, it'd be so lit! I ran into some seriously fire Albanians in the restroom yesterday, no joke." The three of them clinked glasses and laughed. The European Championship was great!

Pics by @ki-kink

[mothdruid]

Up In Smoke- Prologue

series masterlist | part one

warnings.

use of marijuana, mentions of alcohol use, stoner!bradley.

author's note.

so i've had this written for months, was just waiting until i had inspo to write the rest of it. i hope you all enjoy it!

The loud thrum of the bass was vibrating through your body, almost altering your heartbeat. A few drinks were coursing through your system at this point. You weren’t even sure what time it was, only aware that the music was suddenly too loud. A heat had started to fill you too, probably from the mix of shots and drinks. You really wanted to just get away from it all. 

Shelby was the one that had invited you, begging you to come so she wasn’t alone at the party. That had lasted a total of twenty minutes before she was running off to play beer pong with some random frat bro. You didn’t fault her, this was the ‘college experience’ she finally wanted to get. It only took her two years to work up the courage to go to a party. But now that courage had left you alone, sitting on the staircase as people passed you. 

You really wanted to leave. 

You pushed a finger into the hole of your jeans, swirling it on your thigh slightly. The idea of sitting outside was tempting. Maybe a little fresh air would help clear your head, dissipate the warmth under your skin that was starting to become unbearable. No matter how tempting it seemed, the cold temperature outside was making you hesitant. You stared at your phone, a whopping twenty-seven degrees staring back at you. You let out a sigh, wondering why you didn’t wear something a little warmer. 

If you wouldn’t be able to get fresh air, the least you could do was find a room with no one in it. It was later, so hopefully enough people had left back to their own dorms for you to find even a closet to hang out in. You lifted from the step on the stairs and headed towards the second floor. There were a few people still talking in the hallways, one couple making out against the wall. 

You slipped past them all, finding an unlocked door towards the end of the hallway. After peeking inside, you deemed it safe. You slipped inside, locking the door after shutting it. It was a smaller bathroom, just enough space for you to be alone in. You looked in the mirror at yourself, taking in your worn look that was starting to show just how tired you actually were. 

A shudder ran down your spine, your body registering that it was a little cooler in here than the rest of the house. You grabbed the buttons of your flannel, buttoning the bottom four buttons to keep you a little warm. Just as you finished you caught a whiff of something. It wasn’t unfamiliar, especially for a frat house. But it smelled fresh, not old and stale. 

“Hello?” You watched the curtain of the bathtub rustle. 

“Hmm?” 

You crept across the tiled floor, reaching out for the curtain. You grabbed at the plain cloth, pulling it to the side to reveal whoever you were sharing the bathroom with. A lop-sided smile and honey brown eyes greeted you. The brunette was settled in the bathtub, sweatshirt hood pulled up a little to cover his curls, window open, joint between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Uh, hi?” 

“Hey, if you need to use the toilet, go ahead. I promise I won’t watch.” He said casually, bring the joint back up to his lips. 

It was captivating, the carefree nature of him taking a hit. You watched him lift the joint towards the window, tapping the ashes off. Smoke blew out from between his lips, aimed towards the window as well. The longer you watched him the hotter you felt. It finally clicked to him that you weren’t putting the curtain back in place. He leaned back against the tub, rolling his head around the edge to look at you. 

“Hmm? Did you need something?” 

“I- what are you doing?” You asked. 

“Smoking, what else does it look like?” He raised an eyebrow at you, taking another hit.

“No, why are you in the bathtub?” 

“It’s cold outside,” he said it like it was obviously the reason he was in there. 

“You’re not wrong there, but that still doesn’t answer my question.” You sat down on the toilet, the two of you staring at each other now. 

“Why are you in here?” He asked after quirking an eyebrow. 

You looked up to find him offering you his joint. There was an odd flutter in your chest. It was such a small action, but it made you smile softly. You took it from his fingers, taking a small breath in. Your lungs ached as they filled with smoke, exhaling it briefly afterwards. He watched you take the hit, pulling on his hoodie strings lightly. You hand the joint back to him. 

“I wanted to be alone, and it’s cold outside.” 

He smiled, taking a hit while he stared at you. He had become captivated by you within such a short period of time. Maybe it was the weed, but nothing like this had ever happened to him before. 

“Told you, it’s cold outside," he offered you the joint again, a lazy smile on his face. 

“It’s not that much warmer in here,” you joked, picking the joint out from his fingers. 

You took another hit, watching as he lifted an arm up towards the window. There was a small amount of resistance when he pulled on the window, eventually leaving a small sliver open now. He did a makeshift bow then settled down in the bathtub again. 

“What a gentleman,” you giggled before taking one last hit. 

“My mama taught me right,” he flashed a big smile towards you, leaning over to grab the joint from you. There wasn’t much left of it. He finished it off pushing the dried out burnt nub out onto the outer window seal. He closed the window completely after that. 

“And does this gentleman have a name?” You asked, wrapping your arms around yourself. 

The buzz from the alcohol had been replaced by a soft haze from the weed. It wasn’t often that you smoked, but you weren’t going to pass up the offer from such an attractive guy. You could have sworn you’d seen him around campus, but couldn’t place where or even who you might have seen him with. 

“Bradley," he made a gesture like he was taking off a top hat. 

“Nice to meet you, Sir Bradley,” you stood up and did a haphazard curtsy, earning a chuckle from him. 

“And who might you be, my lady?” He asked, sitting up a little straighter in the tub. He smiled when you told him your name, thinking it was perfect for you. There was just this sweetness radiating from you that he couldn’t place, but he wanted to experience it. 

You felt a small vibration from your back pocket. You had a text from Shelby, telling you she was ready to leave and waiting at the front door. A part of you wished she would have gone home with someone. You wanted to spend more time with this bathtub loving dude. You sent her a quick confirmation text. 

“I gotta go,” you waved your phone in the air, “roommate texted me.” You gave him a small frown, indicating you didn’t really want to leave. 

“That’s a shame, I was really starting to enjoy you,” he crossed both arms on the edge of the tub, laying his head down on them. Those big honey eyes were pulling you in, telling you to stay.

“I was starting to enjoy you too,” you said, all the heat in your body migrating towards your cheeks. 

The two of you waved at each other. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you actually wanted to leave this small room. Leave this person you had just met and potentially would never see again. You flicked the lock and opened the door, turning around to give him one last smile. Without thinking, you blew him a kiss. Bradley smiled and caught the imaginary kiss, holding it to his chest. 

The two of you were gone for each other. 

[ryanhamiltonwalsh]

Walking by the court house in Dedham, MA the other night, I started thinking about Sacco & Vanzetti again, and their infamous, shameful trial in the same building where—despite a mountain of evidence and worldwide protests in their favor—they were found guilty and subsequently executed in 1927.

Woody Guthrie wrote an entire album about it, and if you've never heard the folk legend sing the town name Dedham ("we're stuck here in this dark Dedham jail"), you can remedy that here.

At the time, a Supreme Court justice owned a second home in Dedham, just a few yards away from the jail in question. Louis Brandeis, appointed by Woodrow Wilson, was a Supreme Court Justice of the United States from 1916 to 1939. A good summary of Brandeis, and why he was controversial, came from a fellow justice and went like this: "Brandeis was a militant crusader for social justice whoever his opponent might be. He was dangerous not only because of his brilliance, his arithmetic, his courage. He was dangerous because he was incorruptible … [and] the fears of the Establishment were greater because Brandeis was the first Jew to be named to the Court."

Brandeis adored Dedham, telling his brother, "Dedham is a spring of eternal youth for me. I feel newly made and ready to deny the existence of these gray hairs." I didn't know it until recently, but I walk by this house once a week on my hometown walk-route with my friend Julia. 195 Village Ave.

Louis Brandeis's wife, Alice Goldmark Brandeis, was perhaps even more progressive than her husband, well known as a vocal proponent of women's rights and labor causes. During the trial of Sacco & Vanzetti, she permitted Sacco's family to stay in their Dedham home to make visits to the jail easier. And get a kleenex ready, because one detail related to that you simply must know is: "Sacco's seven-year-old son, Dante, would sometimes stand on the sidewalk outside the jail and play catch with his father by throwing a ball over the wall." Additionally, Alice made a significant donation to their defense fund.

The entire case is fascinating, multi-faceted, full of twists and turns and potential evidence tampering by law enforcement, and in that way (and only that way), it is similar to what's being tried there right now. Officer Albert Hamilton tried to walk out of the court room with Sacco's gun, only to be stopped at the last moment by the judge. Post-trial, police Captain Van Amburgh took Sacco and Vanzetti's guns and bullets home, where they stayed until 1960 (!) until the Boston Globe uncovered the scandal. If you're curious, I recommend reading Tragedy in Dedham by Francis Russell.

They were found guilty. Worldwide protests erupted. Bombs were mailed. 20,000 gathered at Boston Common. Pleas for clemency abounded.

"Sacco and Vanzetti’s lawyers, rebuffed by the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts, aimed at convincing a justice to issue a temporary stay of execution until the U.S. Supreme Court could fully review whether the two men had received a fair trial. ...Louis Brandeis, another progressive justice, recused himself from the case, because his wife, Alice, had made a significant donation to Sacco and Vanzetti’s defense fund." — SCOUTSblog

This is all to say, hey, how about that? Recusing yourself from an issue because of your wife's strong, public opinions on the matter? Justice Alito and Thomas wouldn't be worthy of cleaning Brandeis's toilet.

[yunoteru4ever]

@thesafaribaggirl-returns Hey, thanks for following/reading!

(I hope you don't mind me transplanting this Ask over to the aforementioned Future Diary blog, but since I'm about to get heavy on my Sakae Esuno geekery, I figured it was most appropriate here.)

SO: I haven't read the manga / watched the anime for Toilet-Bound Hanako-Kun yet for... pretty dumb reasons, honestly, although I should at least mention that Dusk Maiden — both its anime AND the entire run of its manga — predate the existence of even the first chapter of Hanako-Kun's manga. So if anything, that description should be reversed and Hanako-kun is the one that's Dusk Maiden for a different audience. (I infer from your Ask that it's probably mostly aimed at girls? Although I don't know enough about it to be sure of that.) Regardless of which one came first, though, I think it's safe to say that Hanako-kun is much better known and more popular by now. It's been in my "try-this-some-time" list for years now.

But I've not yet touched Hanako-kun largely because I'm just SO emotionally invested in Sakae Esuno's Hanako and the Terror of Allegory manga that I'm lowkey bitter that this other manga starring the same bathroom-dwelling ghost of legend (and featuring their name right in the title) is way more popular and occupies far more space within pop culture's collective unconscious. ........ Even though, yeah, that's inherently dumb and epically silly of me.

Y'all likely know where these mangas stand among Western weebs. If Toilet-Bound Hanako-Kun rates (in the West) around "fairly popular/well-known among seasonal anime/manga devotees" then Hanako and the Terror of Allegory lands at something like "obscure to all Western anime/manga fans to a degree that is hard to quantify." Which I obviously consider to be a goddamn shame.

Ultimately, it's not like I've ever prevented myself from consuming MANY wildly varied interpretations of Sherlock Holmes or Wonder Woman or whoever, y'know? The only difference is really that, as a Westerner, the legend of Hanako doesn't show up on my radar as much as.... idk,King Arthur or whatever common legends we have here.

Besides, the gender identities of these two Hanakos are exact opposites! That ALONE is gonna make them EXTREMELY distinct from one another.

So I hereby vow to give Hanako-kun its fair shake pretty soon.

[quuma]

『 𝕋𝕎𝕊𝕋 𝕍𝕊 𝕋𝕆𝕀𝕃𝔼𝕋 𝔼𝕋𝕀ℚ𝕌𝔼𝕋𝕋𝔼 : 』

𝘪.𝘦. 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 <33

𝘾𝙒: 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐎𝐂 !!! 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙛𝙪𝙣 <3 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨 !!

𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀: 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙩𝙤𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙩-𝙗𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 (𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙢 𝙞’𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙗𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 5 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙬) 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 <33

♥--------------------------------------------------------------------------- ♥

𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙏 𝙎𝙀𝘼𝙏 𝙐𝙋:

LEONA [he’s rich - he probably had servants wipe his ass for him as a kid and just never grew out of it], Ace :(, TREY, Kalim [genuinely forgets to put the toilet seat down], Idia, CROWLEY, Vargas, Floyd, Cheka [he’s,, a child,,].

𝙍𝙀𝙈𝙀𝙈𝘽𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙏𝙊 𝙋𝙐𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙏 𝙎𝙀𝘼𝙏 𝘿𝙊𝙒𝙉: <33

RIDDLE [did you really think his mother would let him keep the toilet seat up?], Vil, Jamil [<3], Ruggie, DEUCE [his Mum raised him right kekekek i love their relationship sm], Cater [practically lives in a 3:1 sister/mother ratio so ofc he keeps the seat down], Lilia, Jack [grrr bark bark alphas never inconvenience their omegas >:(], Neige, All the staff [minus Crowley + Vargas], Malleus, Silver, Azul, Jade, Rook, Epel [Vil would beat him up if he didn’t].

𝙒𝙊𝙐𝙇𝘿 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙏𝙊 𝙋𝙐𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙏 𝙎𝙀𝘼𝙏 𝘿𝙊𝙒𝙉 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙄𝙍 𝘿𝙊𝙍𝙈 𝙇𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙎:

 Jamil [used to actively remind Kalim to go back into the bathroom and put down the toilet seat but eventually gave up and started doing it himself], Ruggie [again. It’s Leona. As much as i love him, i know he doesn’t put down the toilet seat :( plus Ruggie probably had to put the toilet seat down for all his siblings + kids in his hometown so it’s legit just a habit at this point]. 

𝙒𝙊𝙐𝙇𝘿 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙑𝙀𝙇𝙔 𝙄𝙉𝘾𝙃 𝙁𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝘼𝙒𝘼𝙔 𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙏 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙇𝙀 𝙋𝙄𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙎𝙀𝙀 𝙄𝙁 𝙄𝙏 𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝙇𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙎 𝙄𝙉: [𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮, 𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢]

FLOYD, ACE [challenges Deuce to see whoever can piss the farthest on a daily basis], Deuce [unwillingly roped into it because Ace makes it a competition and calls him a chicken if he refuses], i regret to admit it but Idia probably does it too [does it to test his pro gamer aim so he can flex his skills to his discord kittens later].

𝙒𝙊𝙐𝙇𝘿 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙔 𝙊𝙉 𝘼 𝘾𝘼𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙍 𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝘾𝘼𝙎𝙐𝘼𝙇𝙇𝙔 𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙆 𝙏𝙊 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝙄𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙈𝙄𝘿𝘿𝙇𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙋𝙄𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙂: [𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙊𝙊𝘾 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙙𝙘 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 :)]

Deuce [chats to his Mum], Malleus [i know for a fACT that Sebek would stand next to Malleus while he’s peeing to “protect him”], Idia [this mf has 0 bitches so he gets no calls but he definitely plays games while shitting or casually talks to Ortho (who's standing next to him holding a toilet roll and air freshener to waft away the stench of an absolutely monstrous shit that only consists of GFuel and chips,, i.e. average discord mod dishes <33)], Cater, Crowley [he has literally 0 standards there’s no way in hell he wouldn’t do this in a business call], Epel, Rook [casually sits in and talks to Epel (unwillingly involved) or Leona (also unwillingly involved) while they’re shitting. He would do it to Vil too but he got banned from sharing a bathroom with him after talking about how beautiful Vil looks when he wipes his ass].

𝙍𝙀𝙁𝙐𝙎𝙀𝙎 𝙏𝙊 𝙐𝙎𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙏 𝘽𝙀𝘾𝘼𝙐𝙎𝙀 𝙄𝙏’𝙎 𝘼 “𝙃𝙐𝙈𝘼𝙉” 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙐𝙎𝙀:

Sebek [i’m convinced that he doesn’t know how to use such “advanced mechanical human contraptions”, and so he instead resorts to wearing adult diapers or using magic to clean himself whenever he sharts].

𝘿𝙄𝘿𝙉’𝙏 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝘼 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙋𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙊𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙏 𝙒𝘼𝙎 𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙇 𝙃𝙀 𝙀𝙉𝙍𝙊𝙇𝙇𝙀𝘿 𝙄𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙉𝙍𝘾:

Epel [he grew up in the countryside so he either pissed in one of those gross wooden Shrek-looking outdoor toilets that have years worth of bacteria build-up, no toilet seat, and a nest of possums or Huntsman spiders (idek if that’s what they’re called but i’m not risking seeing photos of them just to look up their proper name) or squirrels living in it,, or he just dug a hole and shit in the bushes.]

𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙔 𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙔 𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙄𝙍 𝙆𝙉𝙀𝙀𝙎 𝙋𝙊𝙋, 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙏 𝙎𝙀𝘼𝙏 𝘾𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙆𝙎 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙂𝙍𝙊𝘼𝙉𝙎 𝙄𝙉 𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙉 𝘼𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙄𝙍 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙀, 𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙇𝙀𝘿 𝘼𝙎𝙎 𝘾𝙃𝙀𝙀𝙆𝙎 𝙏𝙊𝙐𝘾𝙃 𝙄𝙏’𝙎 𝙋𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙀 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙄𝘾, + 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙔 𝙈𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙎𝙀 𝙒𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝘿 𝙂𝙍𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙋𝘼 𝙉𝙊𝙄𝙎𝙀𝙎 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙂𝙀𝙏 𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝙄𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙀 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙇𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙍𝘾𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙊𝙐𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙐𝙇𝙀𝙎𝙏 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙋𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙏 𝙄𝙈𝘼𝙂𝙄𝙉𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀:

Trey. [mf literally works for a family of bakers i knOW FOR A FACT THAT HE HAS GRANDPA CONSTIPATION].

𝙂𝙀𝙏𝙎 𝙋𝙄𝙎𝙎 + 𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙏 𝘼𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙏 𝙎𝙀𝘼𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘿𝙊𝙀𝙎𝙉’𝙏 𝘾𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙉 𝙄𝙏 𝙐𝙋:

Ace :( [i love you so much Ace but you’re literally the epitome of gross teenage boy :(], Floyd, Trey.

𝘿𝙊𝙀𝙎𝙉’𝙏 𝘿𝙀𝙁𝙀𝘾𝘼𝙏𝙀 + 𝙀𝙓𝘾𝙍𝙀𝙏𝙀:

Ortho. [,,, robot,,,]

𝙁𝘼𝙇𝙇𝙎 𝘼𝙎𝙇𝙀𝙀𝙋 𝙊𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙏:

Silver, Trey [old grandpa needs his hourly naps].

♥--------------------------------------------------------------------------- ♥

𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘪 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨?

𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 :𝘋 

𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 + 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪’𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘦𝘬𝘦𝘬𝘦𝘬 >:)

𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘫𝘥𝘫𝘩𝘧𝘫𝘥

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Okay I feel like 17 from the prompt list would make for a funny drabble

lmao I have no idea where I'm gonna go with this so, have fun with my impulsive writing

also, disclaimer, I may have drunk a littleeeeeee bit so I messed up his characterisation very badly and this makes -2 sense lol

prompt: “I can’t believe you just did that!” “Are you really surprised though?”

The door clicked almost soundlessly behind you. Inside the house it was colder than out, which was not surprising when the temperatures had reached the highest of the whole year, at least according to weather experts.

A single light was burning in the kitchen, but John had said he'd leave it on, so you didn't pay it much attention. You put the keys back into their place, the little bowl on the cupboard next to the door. Then you slipped off your shoes, and softly, as softly as you possibly could, you put them down again, as to not wake anyone up. JJ was in his room, John hopefully as well, but there was always the chance of Kie or Pope - or both - tangled up on the couch.

It was late. Very late. And even though they all certainly didn't come back early either, ever, you were late late. You'd had to take a night shift at the gas station (more than just unnecessary if anyone had asked for your opinion, because there were barely people having to fill up gas at midnight) so when you came home at 4, the sun was almost starting to rise again.

You made your way into John's room on tiptoes, careful not to hit anything or anyone. There were muffled sounds coming from behind JJ's door, which wasn't unusual. For a second you debated knocking and saying hi - you'd probably know whoever he was with. But then again, you were not in the mood to walk in on something intimate. So instead you turned to the handle on the opposite side and snuck quietly into John's room.

You didn't hear him snoring, which was a sign that maybe, for once, you'd be able to sleep through. Not that you couldn't sleep with his snoring next to your ear, but certainly it was much more pleasant when he was quiet. Which happened rarely. Especially not when he'd drunk something.

The way to his bed was one that you'd taken so many times that you could easily find it in the dark. Soon, softly, your knees bumped against the edge and you put out your hands, patting the mattress to see where you could lay down. Where he wasn't taking all the space.

Instead of getting a hold of him though, all you found were blankets, blankets, blankets and pillows, pillows, pillows. That was your fault, kind of, you'd bought three times what he had had before and definitely more than necessary. But who wouldn't want their one sacred place to be all fluffy and soft?

"John?", you whispered into the darkness. Perhaps he'd got up, gone to the toilet. "Babe?"

But he wasn't in bed.

Before you could as much as move another inch, someone had poked you in the shoulder. "Boo", they whispered into your ear.

You could only suppress a scream by pressing a hand to your mouth, but instinctively whipped around and brought your other hand down on the person's chest - you'd aimed for their face, but you could barely see in the dark. Not at all, actually.

"It's me!" John's voice was ragged, even though his words were almost silent. "It's me, shit, it's me."

You needed a second to calm down. Two after that. Then another three.

"I can't believe you just did that!", you whispered back, as quiet but as firm as you could without screaming. How absolutely unbelievable. How absolutely unbelievable that he'd done it again.

"Are you really surprised?", he muttered, amusement apparent. "It's the third time this happens. By now you should be able to guess- I even gave you time to react! Beforehand!"

You hit his chest again, in exasperation this time. "Shut up! Promise me you won't do it again! You're scaring the living hell out of me every time!"

Instead of responding, he grabbed your hand and pressed a little kiss to it. Then one to your nose, then one to your cheek, then one to your forehead. When he'd eventually reached your jaw, your chin, your lips, you'd forgotten about your complaints wholly.

"You need sleep", he mumbled against your skin. You hummed a yes, but neither of you made a move to go to bed. It was a statement, nothing more, saying you should, but why should you?

"Kiss me again", you breathed instead, throwing your arms around his neck. "Until I've blacked out. I'll get sleep after."

[pokechampash]

A Clash Between Rivals💥💪🏾💦

"Dang it,why'd I'd have to drink so much of that juice this morning!" Professor Kukui snarled to himself as he sqrimed in his car seat,he had spent his whole morning doing research while ignoring his need to go because he doesn't like taking breaks in the middle of his research and now mixed in with all the juice and water he had over the period of time his bladder full and bursting crying for relief,unfortunately for Kukui it being the middle of the afternoon on a busy day for the Aloha region lots of people had places they needed to go causing a huge traffic jam to build up,Kukui was holding himself any chance he got,he gasped as a small spurt of piss came out leaving a stain on his boxers,Kukui panicked as he knew he wouldn't be able to make it back to his house with dry boxers so he quickly started scanning the area to see if there was anywhere to go

"Oh thank god,there's a restaurant!" Kukui eye light up as he saw the hawaiian restaurant nearby,he quickly drove into the parking lot and squirmed as he hurriedly found a parking spot,he quickly got out of his car and dashed over to the restaurant while holding himself to the best of his ability,when he entered the restaurant he was immediately greeted with the sounds of beverages being poured,Kukui bounced a little at all the sounds teasing him,he quitely made his way over to the bathrooms when he saw something that filled his eyes with horror,the bathroom's door's lock was red signalling that someone was occuping the toilet,Kukui rushed up to the door and banged on it desperately trying to get it open

"Hey is someone in there,please hurry I don't know how much longer I can hold it!" Kukui pleded as he felt another spurt of piss come out and drop into his boxers,unfortunately for Kukui whoever was in the bathroom didn't feel like answering him as it was silent,Kukui slowly went to a nearby connor while holding himself as he turned around and waited and hoped whoever was in the toilet came out soon

"Hurry up will ya,I'm having a emergency here!" Kukui heard a loud dark but desperate voice yell as he heard multiple hard bangs on the door,Kukui turned around and was surprised to see Guzma,his long time rival and leader of the infamous thug group of Aloha called Team Skull,Guzma had a visible wet spot on his baggy pants and was desperately dancing around while trying to get the bathroom door open

"Guzma? What are you doing here?" Kukui questioned the other desperate man with a irritated tone

Guzma turned around and his fierce eyes met Kukui's,he groweled to himself

"Need to take a piss,got a problem?" Guzma faced Kukui while trying to keep his cool although it was quite obvious he really needed to take a piss,Guzma had spent his whole morning and a little bit of the afternoon drinking soda can after soda can ignoring his needs to play some video games,when all the sodas finally caught up to him he tried rushing to the base's bathroom just to find a long quene,knowing he couldn't hold it much longer he races other to the restaurant just to find the toilet occupied

"Yeah I got a problem,I was here before you so I'll be going first" Kukui said in a irritated tone walking up to the door and bumping Guzma out the way

"Gah,you bastard!" Guzma retorted as he doubled over in pain,even a bump as small as Kukui's hurt alot before of Guzma'a full bladder,the wet spot on Guzma'a pants widen a little bit as a few leaks came out

"What's wrong Guzma? Is the big bad thug leader gonna have a accident on himself?" Kukui mocked Guzma in a teasing tone

"In your dreams,we'll see who's the one who pisses themselves when I get in there first!" Guzma claimed angirly as he threw a little punch at Kukui purposely aiming it at Kukui's bladder,Kukui doubled over in pain as he to know had a visible wet spot on his pants,the two desperate men continued to bicker for the next few minutes while desperately holding themselves fighting over who would go first,suddenly the door to the toilet opened and a dark skinned boy with black and red hair came out,he laughed as he saw Guzma and Kukui,seeing two full grown men bickering like they were still immature highschoolers was quite the sight to see,Kukui and Guzma weren't worried about being laughed at though as both men felt that they were at there limit and couldn't hold on much longer,Kukui dragged Guzma out of his way and made a dash for the bathroom door but Guzma was able to stand back up and catch up to him,the two men started pushing each other trying to knock each other down as they both leaked some more,but in the end thanks to Guzma's muscular figure from his workouts he was able to overpower Kukui and pushed him far away from the toilet doors,he quickly stepped in the bathroom slowy closing the door and smirked at Kukui who had jumped back up and was trying to run into the toilets before the door closed"Guzma! You bastard!" Kukui screamed as Guzma closed and locked the door,locking Kukui out

"Looks like I won this time Kukui,I always had more muscle power than you" he said in a cocky tone,Guzma locked the door to the one man toilet and rushed over to the toilet ripping his baggy pants down and moaning in relief as a strong hard stream of piss burst out of his cock and into the toilet hitting the water with a big splash,Guzma's stream was strong and lasted a good two minutes before he finally finished,Guzma happily hummed in satisfaction and relief as he finished up in the bathroom,he opened the door to see a red faced Kukui holding his crotch as piss was uncontrollably bursting out of it,Kukui's boxers and pants were soaked in piss and there was a huge puddle of piss had formed around him,Guzma chuckled

"Told ya you'd be the baby having the accident Kukui,I would stick around to see more of this but my grunts are probably waiting for me back at the base,I'm out" Guzma snorted as he left the restaurant leaving Kukui there,Guzma'a laughs had caught the attention of some people and they noticed Kukui's accident,most people laughed and pointed while other just stared,Kukui rushed out of the restaurant embarrassed and into his car so he could quickly get home,Guzma had seen all of this as he was waiting for his ride outside,all he could do is smrik and laugh as Kukui pulled out of the driveway and into the main road

Credit to @omowritingprompts for this amazing artwork! 🤍💚💪🏾💦

[iwadori]

Dates with the Haikyu boys (Kuroo,Iwaizumi)

hiii emp! so I saw that your request is open soo can I request fluff+31 w/ iwaizumi and kuroo from prompt list that you reblogged, thank youu emp♥️💞✨(and also can I request Godzilla stuffed animal on iwa scenario? since he love it sm :-D) srry if i ask too much:“ - @bucinhajime

Word Count: 1.4k

Genre: fluff

Kuroo:

You and Kuroo had the cliche enemies to lovers story

Knowing eachother from when you were kids you always wanted to compete with one another

Even when you fell in love

And hey, what’s wrong with a little romantic competition?

Today was your weekly date, which for this week Kuroo got to pick (as last week you picked go karting.) You arrive at the arcade, ‘this is going to be fun’ you think to yourself. The arcade is a huge staple in your relationship, as you’ve been going there since you were kids even with Kenma sometimes, with you and Kuroo always battling it out on each different game on who will win and whoever accumalates the most single wins on games on that day win the overall win for the day. You’re winning 56-55 right now and want to keep your lead.

You see your boyfriend standing at the front of the arcade scrolling through his phone, you whistle at him (like your a catcaller) “hey hot stuff” you say jokingly and he rolls his eyes in mock annoyance “ready to get your shit handed to ya tetsu?”

“I think not, I’m definitely taking the W here Y/N” he declares “Just wait and see”

He was wrong, so very wrong. You were basically on your A-game tonight slamming him in every game you play he hasn’t won at all tonight, you try to let him win some on purpose but he spots your tactic and forfeits wanting to ‘only play you at your best babe.’ 

You take a break to get some food after playing basically every game in the arcade twice over and Tetsu still hasn’t gotten a win. As you are eating you catch him staring at you,

“What’s wrong?” You ask with a soft smile on your face “If it’s the amount of losses you have it doesn’t matter everyone has off days so it-”

“I just really really love you” he says breathlessly

His random declaration of love renders you speechless, you do of course love Tetsu and everything about him but especially moments like these when he’s just unapologetically transparent.

“And I love you too babe” you say “and I always will no matter how shit you are at pacman” you get a laugh from him as he playfully punches you in the arm.

As you are about to leave the building, Kuroo’s eyes stumble across a claw machine one that must be new (since you’ve used every piece of machinery in this place.) Before you can stop him, he rushes over to it slotting in *insert currency in here* 

“you know these games are rigged right?” you say humoured by your boyfriends concetration

“Don’t worry babe, I’m definitely getting you something” he says sticking his tounge out slightly in focus “choose a teddy bear”

“well I think you should go with the obvious choice” you say

It’s been 30 minutes now and you are TIRED at first it was cute seeing your boyfriends dedication but your feet ache and you’re ready to go home. You cautiously approach your boyfriend not trying to break his focus “Tetsu, don’t you think it’s time we-”

“I’m not leaving this booth, until I win that stupid stuffed animal you want…” he says 

“But what abo-”

“and no I don’t care how much money it takes” he finishes

You go sit back down still humoured by your boyfriend, telling yourself that if he doesn’t finish in 5 minutes you’re dragging him home with or without that ‘stupid teddy.’

5 minutes has now passed and before you could get to your boyfriend, Kuroo comes running towards you with a dishevelled looking black cat teddy in his hands, just the one you wanted.

“Aww you did it Tetsu” you exclaim kissing him on the cheek

“I told you I would” he responds smugly

You finally left the arcade, now back in your own apartment ready to go to bed with you black cat teddy (which you obviously just had to call Tetsu) in your hand.

Before sleeping, you decide to text Kuroo one more thing

Y/N: Btw it is now 57-55 take the L babess <3 

Kuroo: shushhhhh I’ll win the next one

You fall asleep dreaming of plans to top todays perfect date.

Iwaizumi

You and Iwaizumi had recently met through mutual friends and have been talking for a while and are now going on your first date.

You decided to make it at the amusement park nearby 

But to your luck, the date couldn’t get any worse then it already did.

The problems started, when you went on your first ride and as you are just a thrill seeker and a tad bit over excited when going on a really fast part you throw your hands up in the air definitely not expecting Iwaizumi’s face to be there. Luckily for you, it was the end of the ride so you can quickly tend to the immediate nose bleed you gave him from you powerful hit. 

You were distraught to say the lease you didn’t meant to hurt him at all, but he assured you that he was okay and accidents happen all was forgiven and forgotten. 

After getting his bleeding to stop, you both agree upon sitting down and possibly getting some food before progressing onwards. Conversation between you both flowed easily making you thankful that things didn’t get awkward after your accident. 

But you spoke to soon, as when reached for a napkin you knocked his drink making it spill all over his crotch freezing you in place. ‘Not again’ you think as you quickly grab the napkins that you were initially aiming for to clean the drink up…before you realise where you spilled the drink making you drop the napkin and revert back to your seat. Before you could apologise again Iwaizumi hushed you making sure you knew he wasn’t mad or anything.

All was kind of forgotten (not fully since Iwaizumi still got odd stares from some people as it did look like he wet himself) but he didn’t seem to care, easing you’re worries.

The rest of the date did seem to go fine, you too both enjoying the rest of the rides and having no hiccups or injuries at all whilst having fun. However when Iwaizumi went to the toilet, you still did want to make it up to Iwaizumi so before you part ways you spotted a booth that sold stuff animals and you were determined to win one for him.

It was a simple, hit three bottles win a small prize hit six botlles win a medium prize and hit all nine bottles and win and ultimate big prize and you’re definitely winning the big one you think.

It was harder then you thought, you only had 9 balls to throw so you had to get a perfect shot each time and you just couldn’t seem to do it. The booth owner asks you if you want to take a break on your 20th go but you respond with “i’m not leaving this booth until I win this stupid stuff animal that he wants and I don’t care how much money it takes” 

Shocked from your sudden outburst it seems the booth owner let you win out of fear, which didn’t bother you at all since all you wanted was the big ultimate godzilla prize to hand to your new boyfriend after completely fucking up the date. As you’re being handed your gianourmas toy you turn and see Iwaizumi fresh from the toilet staring at you in confusion.

You hand him the stuffed animal shyly which he gladly accepts, secretly blushing at the kind gesture and at your good memory in remembering that Godzilla was his favourite thing of all time. 

At the end of the date he kisses you softly and tells him to call him Hajime instead of Iwaizumi to which you gladly do. You go on many more dates after this and you do injure yourself and him more but that’s one of the many things Hajime ends up loving about you. 

AN: I definitely need sleep, I hope you enjoy this since pure fluff is definitely not my thing at all but i enjoyed writing Kuroo’s scenario since Iwaizumi’s to me felt a little off ( espeically since i realised I used NO DIALOUGE ) but that’s what happens when you’re running low on sleep kids ://

[itsthestutterforme]

Second Chances (Jang Hanseok)

Summary: Hanseok was spiraling and was starting to get paranoid as Vincenzo's plan began to unravel. Y/N, his best friend, gets hurt because of him and he never forgives himself.

Characters: Vincenzo x nurse!reader (platonic) Hanseo x nurse!reader (platonic), Hanseok x nurse!reader (platonic)

Requested by @letsnotcrytoday

--

Sighing as you rest your head on the steering wheel, your phone chimed. You just finished your 12 hour shift in the hospital as a nurse and you felt tractor trailer ran over you. A scolding hot bath, a vibrating pad and a foot massage from Hanseok sounds like heaven right about now.

Speaking of Hanseok, he's been very distant lately. You've been best friends since junior high and you know each other like the back of your hands. But you haven't seen him so closed off before. It's almost as if he doesn't know who to trust. And it makes you wonder how he became that way.

Without pulling away from the steering wheel, you reach into your bag and take out your phone. You glance over at the phone to see a text from Hanseo saying, "He-." That's odd. Hanseo has been just as distant as Hanseok. Something doesnt feel fight. Was he trying to say "Help?"

You drive to Hanseo's office first but they said that he was out for the day. Then you drove to Hanseo's house and your heart bangs in your chest when you look through the window.

You see Hanseok walking around the house with a gun and Hanseo tied up in front of him. He looks to be bleeding from his head. There are two other people there, a woman and a man.

You don't want to see Jang Hanseok go to jail. He's not a bad man, he just made mistakes that led him down a terrible road. Your heart was shattered to pieces when you visited him in jail and saw him in those awful, beige jail clothes.

You can't see him there again. You grab your first aid kit from your glove box and shove it into your purse.

You slowly walk into the house and open the door, careful not to make any noise. You walk into the living room when you heard three gun shots. "Oh my God, Hanseok, what you-."

Another gun shot rings in your ears and a sharp pain struck your hand. You fall to the floor and cradle your hand against your chest to see a gaping hole in your palm.

Taking deep breaths, you look around the room to see the woman with a gun shot wound in her shoulder and Hanseo with multiple wounds in his chest. If you don't patch those up soon, he won't make it. You finally look up to see Hanseok looking at you with wide eyes. "Y/N, what are you doing here!"

The other man stands up and Hanseok pulls the trigger once again but the gun exerted a soft click. Hanseok looks at you with guilt and anger as the man rush toward him. Hanseok jumps off of the balcony and disappears. A soft whimper left your lips as blood spills from your hand and on to the floor.

You take some cloth from your purse and wrap your hand tightly to prevent any more blood loss. You wince as the pain intensifies and make your way to Hanseo, where the man was kneeling. "Can you help him?" He asks.

"I can try. Did you already call the ambulance?" "Yes," "Okay." You unbutton his shirt to get a better look at his wounds. He has a total of three wounds, luckily there are three people here.

You open the first aid kit and pressed gauze to his wounds, making him wince. "I'm alright," Hanseo says weakly. "No, you're not." You snap, angry at Hanseok for doing this to his brother. "I'm sorry, I j-" His hand comes up to touch your cheek. "You two were more like siblings to me than he was." He says.

"Stop talking and save your strength. Apply pressure to this one." You tell the man. "Miss, I know you're hurt but can you use the other arm to put pressure on his wounds? I'll tend to yours in a minute." You add. "Y/N, please. Let it run it's course." "No, I won't. You're going to live, you hear me?" you say, blinking away the years forming in your eyes.

"I don't want to live in fear anymore. I did good, right? Please tell me I did good." "You're going amazing, Han seo. I'm so proud of you." "P-proud?" More tears escape your eyes as you ease the pressure of his wounds and uncap 5 milligrams of morphine. You inject him with it and he sighs softly. "This should ease the pain enough for him.." you trail off.

"I'm so sorry, Han seo." You add, taking his hand into both of yours. He takes his last breath as you press a kiss to his forehead. Shaky breathes leave your lips and you wrap your arms around him. "I'm sorry for your loss, but can you please help my friend?" The man asks.

Wiping away your tears, you nod and made your way over to the woman.

**

It's 2 A.M. It's been five hours since you came home from the hospital and you didn't get a lick of sleep. What happened at Hanseo's house replays in your mind like some reoccurring nightmare. You wish it was a nightmare. One of your bestfriends was shot a killed by your other best friend.

Sniffling from crying about Hanseo's passing, you blow your nose a few times. That was when you hear a soft clank in your kitchen. Your nose flares with annoyance.

Whoever broke into your home was one unlucky son of bitch. You're feeling everyone emotion besides fear and you have a locked and loaded pistol in your drawer.

Taking the pistol into your hand, you take the safety off and slowly walk down the stairs. You lean your back against the wall next to the kitchen. "Whoever you are, you have five seconds to get the hell out or I'm putting five bullets in you." "Y/N?" You hear Hanseok say.

You step away from the wall and aim your gun at him, not caring about the searing pain of your hand wound opening up again. "Get the hell out," "Y/N, please. I.. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of thi-" "That was your brother, Hanseok! Your blood! And you killed him, because of what!"

"I had no choice! Vincenzo threatened to kill you if I didn't." You were at a loss for words. "Don't. Please don't turn your back on me. The whole world can but the minute that you do, then I'm a lost cause." He says, making your heart lurch in your chest.

You weren't aware that he was stepping closer to you until his hands were taking the gun out of yours. Putting on the safety, he tosses the gun on the couch. His gaze fixes on the gauze wrapped around your right hand. You put your hand behind your back. "It doesn't hurt that bad," you lie.

Still unsure of whether to believe him, you thought that it was best to sleep on it and talk to him about it in the morning. Your brain was physical exhausted from work and recent events.

"You can see yourself out," you add before turning around to go back to your room. He grabs your uninjured hand and pulled you into his chest. "You could have died, and it would have been at my hand. I'll never forgive myself for that." You chose not to say anything and listened to his heart racing in his chest.

"I didn't know it was you. My body reacted before my mind could register... I know you're pissed at me but please don't lose faith in me." He adds. "What were you thinking!" You push him away from you and slap him across the face. It wasn't until you heard a faint rip of your stitches that you realized it was with the injured hand.

A shriek of pain leaves your lips and you fall to floor, cradling your hand. He kneels down next to you and you both watch as blood seeps through the bandage. "Where's your first aid kit?" He asks. "Bathroom." Without a second thought, he lifts your into his hands and carries you into the bathroom.

He sets you on the counter and sets the first aid kit on the toilet lid. Slowly peeling off the gauze, he winces when he sees the wound. Guilt weighs on his eyes and he cleans around the wound on both sides before putting an antifungal cream.

He puts a large piece of gauze on both sides of the hand and uses a new wrap to intricately wrap the hand between each finger and the entire wrist.

He tucks away the loose end of the wrap and we both sigh in unison. "We have to get out of the country," "What the hell did you get yourself into, Hanseok? Why didn't you tell me sooner, I could have helped you." "No, you couldn't." He walks out of the bathroom and you jump off the counter to follow him until you heard him scream.

"Hanseok!" You rush out of the bathroom but a hand clamped around your mouth and felt a sharp prick on the side of your neck. You drop to the ground as black wisps cloud your vision and the last thing you saw was Hanseok being dragged away.

**

Gasping for you breath, you find yourself laying in your bed. What the hell? Was last night a dream? You look at your hand and remember Hanseok wrapping it after pulling your stiches. It wasn't a dream. Someone took Jang Hanseok.

You stand up from the bed and reach for your phone. You thought of Hanseo saying that he our a tracker in his brother's watches. You thought he was crazy but now you couldn't help but to thank him. You look up to the ceiling and say, "I'll make sure you get the justice you deserve, Hanseo."

Following the GPS, you stop in the middle of traffic when you see the man from Hanseo's apartment leaving the warehouse that the GPS led you. "He's the one that forced Hanseok to kill his own brother." You say to yourself. Your blood runs cold in your veins when you see blood splattered on his face and clothes.

Horns honk at you and you park on the side of the road and waited for the man to leave. You rush into the gravel road to park the car. Running as fast your legs can take you, you follow Hanseok's screams to a large room of the abandoned warehouse.

He's connected to some weird torture device that looks automatic. There is a drill that looks to be a half an inch inside his chest cavity. "Oh God," you say. "Y/N," he says weakly and you had sudden flashbacks to Hanseo dying. You couldn't loose another one, you refuse to.

You pull out a knife and pop open the circuit of the device and you cut the red wire which prevents the device from functioning. You're so glad you took that programming class in college.

You stick the sharp end into the crease and pushed the drill out of the device so it would stay in his chest. If you took out the drill now, he would bleed out in seconds.

What kind of monster would do this to another human being? You pull him to his feet and walk him down the stairs to get to the car. "Stay with me okay?" You say when you notice his eyes starting to close his eyes.

He looked terrible. His eyes looked sunken, his skin looked pale and lifeless and his lips were blood stained. When you find this guy, you're going to tear him a new one.

Going 80 on the highway, you were at the hospital in a blink of an eye. "Help! Someone help me please!" You yell as you drag him into the ER.

"Y/N, what happened to him?" Your coworker asked. You wait until he is on the gurney to say, "Someone was torturing him with a drill." You say flatly.

"What kind of sicko does that?" When you don't respond, she adds, "Right, sorry. Not time for jokes. I'll keep you posted." You nod and watch as she accompanies a doctor's taking him to the surgery floor.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

[i-got-these-words]

Short Midnight Drabble ~

[Content warnings: Excessive drinking; dubious consent; victim self-blaming; jealousy; explicit sexual content; explicit language.]

The rhythm in his head had but one name. Tequila.

Guan Shan winced as a shooting pain lanced through him, striking dead centre in the space between his eyes like a rusty nail trying to screw its way through his skull. His heavy and only-somewhat-cooperative tongue rolled around a tart curse that would have had his mom smacking him upside the head and scolding him six ways to Sunday.

Fuck a cheese grater. Where was he?

Prying his eyes open, Guan Shan squinted into the dimly lit room, thankful that someone had had the foresight to draw the vertical blinds closed. The scintillating shimmer of a spring dawn spilt through the narrow gaps, casting the room and its slumbering occupants in hues of cerise and new beginnings.

Guan Shan didn’t recognise them, and he sure as fuck didn’t believe in new beginnings. Or second chances. He was forced to clench his teeth against a wave of nausea when he tried to sit up, his body stiff and protesting. He took a few steadying breaths through his nose as the rusty nail asserted itself once again, burrowing deeper and laying claim to his alcohol-addled brain.

The room was littered with the usual post-party detritus, but in place of ransacked snack bowls, disposable red cups and crushed beer cans, there were half-empty food platters, fully empty champagne bottles and a slew of personalised confetti.

It came him to then—Jian Yi and Zheng Xi’s engagement party.

He instantly regretted coming. Then, just as quickly, felt bad for even thinking it; Jian Yi was the closest thing Guan Shan had to a friend, even if Guan Shan would never admit it. But then he remembered how, in the face of his hesitation, Jian Yi had assured Guan Shan that he wouldn’t be attending. After all, he was halfway across the globe and had already sent his apologies and felicitations in the form of an outrageously luxurious RV disguised as an engagement gift.

Shit.

Guan Shan needed to get out of there.

He took his time levering himself to his feet, swaying a little as the room spun. Gingerly, he lumbered past the handful of dozing guests, most of them more scantily dressed than they had been at the beginning of the party, limbs twisted around a partner—or partners—a piece of upholstered furniture, or a bottle of top-shelf liquor.

The air was thick with the scents of warm, canoodling bodies, an eye-watering floral fragrance someone had drenched themselves in the night before and the lingering traces of eau de fuck mist. Wrinkling his nose, Guan Shan scowled at the thought of partygoers going at it right there in the living room whilst he was passed out drunk on the couch. What happened to having some goddamn decorum?

Meandering out into the hallway in search of his chukka boots, Guan Shan rubbed his temples and wondered if it was too early in the day for the Sunday trains to be running. He considered getting an Uber back to his place, but he was trying to save up—for a wedding gift, a fucking suit because the one he owned was only fit to be worn at funerals, smart shoes that hadn’t been bought at a thrift store, and a round or two of over-priced drinks at the joint bachelor bash Jian Yi was already twittering about.

Fuckin’-A. He’d need to budget more tightly than he already had been, but he consoled himself with the option of selling the suit and shoes second-hand post-wedding and making up for the difference by picking up a few more shifts at the restaurant.

And making do with less than three hours of sleep a night.

Putting his monetary worries to one side, Guan Shan spent the better half of a minute getting tangled in the loose end of a congratulations banner that had come half-undone from the wall. As he passed the kitchen, he caught the time on the microwave’s digital display: five fucking am. The first train wasn’t due til half six.

Mood souring, Guan Shan ran a frustrated hand through his shorn hair, a little stiff and sticky from the product he’d fingered through it last night. His stomach lurched when he noticed the wretched bottle of jalapeño-infused tequila on the breakfast bar and he wondered why he’d thought drinking himself to oblivion would be a good idea. Not only had it been one of his more foolish decisions, it hadn’t even fucking worked.

Guan Shan could remember, clear as day, how his mouth had dried up and his heart had dithered like a fucking damsel in distress when he’d spotted He Tian sauntering through Jian Yi and Zheng Xi’s verdant backyard. With his signature cocksure swagger, He Tian had garnered the attention of many a guest sprawled on rattan garden furniture. Guan Shan had envied them their insouciance as they sipped chilled champagne from sparkling glasses and got their fill of a fabulous ass furnished in dark denim. Guan Shan, on the other hand, had ensconced himself in the kitchen in an attempt to avoid crossing paths with his ex.

That, too, hadn’t fucking worked.

With an hour to kill, Guan Shan found himself in the guest bathroom, splashing his face with arctic-cold water in the hopes that it would chink away at the haze of his hangover. In anticipation of having overnight sojourners, Jian Yi or Zheng Xi—more likely the latter—had stacked a pile of sealed toothbrushes and bottles of mouthwash on the window ledge.

Guan Shan felt marginally human after he’d scrubbed his teeth and freshened up. He chanced a look in the mirrored cabinet above the sink and grimaced. His rose gold hair, which had been a deliberate mess of spikes at the beginning of the night was now nothing short of a grooming disaster. His cheeks were flushed from the cold wash, masking the dusting of freckles on his face that bloomed and waned with the seasons. Normally a blazing liquid copper, his eyes were a dull brass, tarnished by too many shots and not enough winks.

The mouth-watering aroma of morning coffee wafted through from under the bathroom door and Guan Shan hoped whoever was up was brewing it strong. He was downing a couple of Advil he’d filched from the small cabinet when he noticed a bruise peeking out from the collar of his shirt. He leaned closer to the mirror, trying to get a better look.

Motherfucker. It was an honest-to-fuck hickey.

As his already-shit mood took a nosedive, Guan Shan ground his molars, the flush on his cheeks deepening with anger. Who the fuck had put it there? And when? Guan Shan couldn’t remember making out with anyone last night and, given that he was fully clothed sans shoes, the necking session had probably not gone past first base.

Probably.

Had he been so blitzed out that he couldn’t remember letting someone suck a bruise on his person? Fuck.

Fuck!

Guan Shan’s ire took an ugly turn. He shouldn’t have put himself in that fucking position. He should’ve known better. Seeing He Tian had fucked him up and Guan Shan had responded by getting shitfaced.

Eyes stinging, Guan Shan swiped viciously at his face with another palmful of frosty water. Just as he turned to the toilet and unzipped his fly, the bathroom door swung open.

He Tian paused in his stride to blink at Guan Shan. Then proceeded to make his way to the sink.

“Do you fucking mind?” Guan Shan growled, ignoring the way his insides squirmed at the sight of a sleepy-looking He Tian: softly tousled locks, a rumpled silk shirt and black boxer briefs that were so tight his dick was one cough away from indecent exposure.

Opening the cabinet and rummaging through the contents, He Tian mumbled a curt, “Nope.”

Guan Shan knew he was on the verge of snapping, and he let his anger simmer to a boil as He Tian popped the cap off the Advil container and knocked back a few pills. When he was done guzzling a mouthful of water right from the tap, his gelid grey eyes slid to Guan Shan. He Tian lofted a dark brow and the motion shouldn’t have been as sensual as it was.

“It’s not like you haven’t pissed in front of me before,” He Tian mused. “In fact—”

“Finish that sentence and you’ll be shitting out your own teeth for the next year,” Guan Shan snarled.

A smirk ghosted He Tian’s lips and the challenge in his eyes made Guan Shan’s stupid heart stutter like a gin-soaked queen in stilettos. “—I distinctly recall how much it turned you on.”

The illusion that he had any self-control around He Tian shattered as Guan Shan pivoted on his heel and plunged towards the taller man, fists raised and powered up.

But He Tian was ready for him. He’d always been fucking ready for him.

Guan Shan’s knuckles barely grazed the hard-lined jaw it was aiming for as He Tian swiftly dodged to the side. When Guan Shan brought up his left elbow to ram it into He Tian’s obscenely, perfectly straight nose, He Tian ducked like he was made of liquid and not the stacked muscle Guan Shan knew was rolling under that naturally tan skin. He Tian countered with a friendly jab to Guan Shan’s kidney; it wasn’t meant to hurt, and it didn’t. But it did momentarily surprise Guan Shan and He Tian predictably took advantage of his hesitation.

The bathroom cabinet shook as Guan Shan’s back collided with the tiled wall.

He Tian closed in on him, outstretched arms boxing Guan Shan in from either side and leaving He Tian wide open to a counterattack, one that they both knew wouldn’t come.

Guan Shan blamed his sluggish reflexes on the hangover from hell and, this close up, he could see that He Tian hadn’t come away completely unscathed either from a night of liberal drinking and liberal morals.

His eyes were rimmed pink, half-lidded and weary. His weekend stubble was a velvet shadow that would have taken a younger He Tian a week to grow out. His post-party redolence was a mixture of faded cologne, the spicy notes of celebratory fizz, and a familiar musk that reminded Guan Shan of lazy mornings in bed, sun-warmed sheets, and an intimacy that didn’t involve swapping spunk.

Guan Shan’s throat tightened like a vice when he spied the flecks of dark red on He Tian’s crumpled white collar, and the grisly bite mark on the side of his neck that was responsible.

“I’ve barely said two words to you and you’re already trying to break my face,” He Tian drawled in a voice that was as deep as it was dark, and made all the more dangerous by a disarming smile. “What crawled up your ass this fine morning?”

Read the full fic here: Love Bites and Bruises

[fanficshiddles]

Triple Threat, Chapter 4

A few days went by and there was nothing bad happening on Earth, the team decided not to worry too much. SHIELD was still on higher alert than usual, just in-case.

But Loki said to the team that perhaps whoever had broken the timeline was someone of non-importance.

Thor kept in touch with Asgard, there was no news from there either. Heimdall still couldn’t see anyone who was in this reality that shouldn’t be.

So when things calmed down, Darcy and Loki went out on a triple date, with Wanda and Vision, Natasha and Bruce. Natasha and Bruce were still a relatively new thing. But they were head over heels with one another, so were giving the whole being a couple thing a go.

They went to the cinema to watch a new release. That was the only reason Loki and Darcy had been able to be talked into going along, as they wanted to see the new film. 

Of course there was some paparazzi there, capturing the superheroes on a day off. Not that they ever had proper days off, they were always on call in-case of emergencies.

Loki always liked to play up to them, though. He made sure they captured a perfect picture of him grabbing a handful of Darcy’s ass on the way into the cinema. She whacked his chest in retaliation, but she did laugh too.

During the film, Darcy needed the bathroom so she squeezed past Loki and headed out into the foyer. After exiting the bathroom she almost walked right into Loki. ‘Geez Loks! Can’t be apart from me even for five minutes?’ She smirked.

He just winked at her and pushed her against the wall, slipping a hand up to hold the side of her neck as he pressed his lips against hers firmly. She whimpered against him as they kissed, Loki deepened it briefly before pulling back, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

‘If I wasn’t so invested in the damn film I’d say let’s skip it. But let’s save our fun for when we get back.’ Darcy grinned and patted his chest. Then she made her way to the screening, but she noticed he didn’t follow her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw him disappear into the men’s toilets.

But when she got back into the screening, she was confused to see Loki in his seat again. She rolled her eyes as she shimmied past him, getting a playful squeeze on the bum by him on the way.

‘You were quick.’ She whispered to him.

Loki glanced at her, confused. ‘What ever do you mean?’

She shook her head and elbowed him. ‘You know what I mean.’ She whispered back.

Loki was utterly confused, but shrugged it off as Darcy just being Darcy. And the two of them continued to watch the film, silently bickering over the popcorn.

-

There had been some reports that came in of weird things going on in the city over the last few days.

Silly little things, really, such as the rain being jelly drops for a full hour. Causing utter chaos in the city as cars and people slipped around as it didn’t evaporate upon hitting the ground. It got quite thick before suddenly it all just vanished. There was also an incident where all the monkeys from the zoo in the suburbs escaped, causing trouble until the zookeepers were able to capture them again.

But a week after the triple date to the cinema, there was another incident. Tony called a meeting with everyone in the living room. Loki and Darcy had been watching TV with Thor and Steve when the others came in.

‘There’s been another incident.’ Tony sighed.

‘What is it this time?’ Wanda asked.

‘You know those large stuffed toy animals that are in the large toy store? There’s an elephant, lion, penguin, zebra and bear?’ Tony said.

‘Yes…’ Bruce trailed off, not liking where this was probably going.

‘Well, they… came alive for a few hours.’ Tony frowned.

Loki threw his head back laughing, he’d found the antics lately hilarious.

‘That is totally something you’d do.’ Darcy said as she poked Loki in his side.

‘It has all been rather amusing.’ Loki grinned.

But the team looked at him warily. He looked between them all and frowned.

‘Oh come on, it’s not me. I’ve been in all day watching TV with Darcy.’ Loki said defensively.

‘He has. He’s barely moved an inch all day.’ Darcy confirmed, stuffing a macaroon into her mouth.

‘Well, whoever it is, they certainly seem to enjoy playing tricks like you do, brother.’ Thor chuckled.

‘They clearly have good taste.’ Loki smiled.

‘Look, this is serious, guys. While it’s not been anything life threatening yet, we need to find out what the hell is going on here and who is behind it all.’ Tony said firmly.

‘I can ask Heimdall. I know he has been keeping an eye on all the realms lately.’ Thor offered.

‘Thanks Thor.’ Tony nodded.

The team were told to be on the lookout more. Tony sent some of his suits out on patrol around the city, to try and catch the person who was playing tricks. But Heimdall saw nothing, whoever was doing the tricks to the city were shielded from his sight.

That evening, Darcy went out to get takeaway. When she returned, she found Loki just loitering about outside.

‘Hey you! Help me with this.’ She headed over to him and handed him one of the takeaway bags. ‘I thought you were too busy fighting with Thor to come with me.’ She grumped as they headed inside.

Loki smirked and shrugged. ‘Surely I am never too busy to help you.’ He purred at her.

Darcy wasn’t exactly sure why or what it was. But Loki seemed slightly off. She couldn’t put her finger on it though. So she just shrugged it off.

When they got inside though, they entered the kitchen and Darcy stopped dead when she saw Loki sitting at the island with Thor, Clint and Natasha.

‘Are you playing your damn tricks again with your illusions?’ She huffed at Loki, shaking her head.

Loki turned to see what she meant, his eyes widening when he saw… himself? Stood next to her. Natasha, Clint and Thor looked confused and slightly surprised too.

‘That is no illusion of mine.’ Loki said warily as he stood up.

‘Loki… what do you mean?’ Darcy looked at the Loki next to her, who had a wicked look on his face.

‘Get away from her.’ Loki stormed over to Darcy and put his arm around her, pulling her away from… himself? And he pulled out one of his daggers, aiming it at the apparent intruder, while keeping a death hold on Darcy.

‘Is that the food…’ Tony trailed off as he entered the kitchen with the rest of the team. Looking at the scene on front of them. ‘What the hell is going on?’

‘Am I seeing double?’ Steve asked, rubbing his eyes.

‘Loki?’ Bruce asked, his voice unsteady as he looked between the two Loki’s.

‘Well, that’s not a very nice welcome for your saviour.’ The intruder Loki grinned and glanced around at everyone, looking far too pleased with himself.

‘Is SOMEONE going to explain what the hell is going on?’ Clint shouted, looking between the two Loki’s nervously.

‘The only thing I know for certain, is that is NOT me.’ Loki snarled, still holding on tightly to Darcy.

Loki chuckled. ‘I am you. You are me. Just from different realities.’ He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

‘You… You’re the rift in the timeline?’ Darcy asked, eyes widening.

‘Smart girl.’ Loki winked at her.

Loki frowned, but still didn’t lower his dagger yet. ‘Explain yourself. Why are you here? What do you want?’

‘I am not here to threaten you, or Midgard.’ Loki said, looking around the team.

‘I’ve come here, because I need your help.’

[telli1206]

The Heart Will Follow (Ch. 3)

Jay’s never had a crush...until he met Carlos. And now he can’t stay away.

Carlos doesn’t know what to make of Jay’s presence, yet. But what should he do, exactly, about a boy that’s both cute AND terrifying?

A collection of Jaylos isle meetings, inspired by this beautiful headcanon I came across randomly that I can’t get out of my head. 

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3: Forever In Your Mind

“So...he just...left?”

Carlos bites his lip and lets his gaze drop to his lap. He’ll look anywhere to avoid Evie’s concentrated stare right now. He can hear the concern in her voice, but it feels too new, too...unsettling, to have someone care about his safety. He’s just not used to that. At all.

“I wonder why...” he hears Evie mutter to herself, and he looks up to catch sight of her furrowed brow and lips pursed tightly in thought. When she glances up and sees Carlos watching her, her eyes immediately soften, and she places a hand over his, flashing a warm smile to try to reassure him.

“Jay is so weird sometimes,” she muses, shaking her head. “Who knows why he was out there. The important thing is, he left you alone. Right?”

“I guess,” Carlos agrees, heaving a sigh. He decides against telling Evie exactly why Jay said he had chosen to leave him alone. He couldn’t really explain what Jay had said, honestly. Why would he give a shit about how Carlos’ mom would react? And his...eyes? Yeah, he definitely didn’t need to upset Evie any further with more of Jay’s weird comments.

“I-I didn’t get the impression that he’d try to steal from me again,” he offers, and quirks a smile when Evie beams back at him. 

“Good! So let’s not waste another second then talking about that...that skeezy thief,” she huffs, and shifts her focus back to her open textbook. She flips through a few pages before noticing how Carlos has stilled, and is now sitting stiff and unmoving beside her. There’s a look of distress on his face, and his cheeks are blooming the brightest pink color. 

“Ok. Something else is wrong. What is it?” Evie demands, and Carlos squeaks quietly at the forcefulness in her tone. He’s biting his tongue, but Evie can see the way his eyes are continuously darting to the door and back.

“No! Carlos, tell me you don’t. You don’t need to...” She pinches her nose, sighing in frustration at the way Carlos shifts in his seat, his hands pressed firmly into his lap. “You didn’t go before class started??”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t have to! I swear. It...it just came up all of a sudden.”

Carlos can feel the guilt pooling in his gut already. He didn’t want to ignore all the help Evie had given him, all the advice that she had gathered to survive Dragon Hall.

Initially, Carlos had no regrets about the cup of coffee he drank this morning. More like the exact opposite - he was grateful. 

Cruella had thrown a full mug at his head as he was trying to leave for school, which wasn’t unusual. Even though she had agreed to let him attend classes in exchange for extra chores after school and on the weekends, his departure every morning was a painful reminder to her of the chores that wouldn’t get done until later, including her breakfast dishes.

What WAS unusual about this morning, however, was that Carlos had managed to catch the mug this time without barely a spill of the scalding tar black coffee that it contained. With his mother already stomping out of the room in a fit of angry rambles to no one but herself, Carlos had taken full advantage of the hot liquid, flooding his belly and providing some satiation and warmth against the chill of the morning air.

It wasn’t until now, when the drink had caught up to his system, did the heeding of Evie’s number one warning cause him a tinge of remorse.

“Y-you’re going to have to hold it Carlos!” Evie hissed, her voice shrill with fear. “I wasn’t lying when I said that leaving class ALONE is a suicide mission!”

Carlos tries his best to settle his squirming. He crosses his ankles tightly, keeping his hands pressed firmly down to help ignore the feeling building inside. But the pressure is just too intense to ignore. He looks up at Evie just as the tears start to well in his eyes.

“Shit, FINE,” she groans, smacking her hand to her forehead. “Listen to me, ok? If you’re going to do this, there’s only one way to go.”

-----

Carlos shuffles quickly down the hall, trying his best to be quiet. Evie’s directions were very specific, and he plans to follow them perfectly. The little pangs of regret he feels for upsetting his new friend, his only friend, are still fresh, and he has no intention of hurting her like that again. Not after all she’s done for Carlos already.

“Take a right - you’ll walk past three classrooms and a bathroom. Walk past the bathroom. Do NOT use that one, Carlos. Ok? Keep walking. Promise me you’ll keep walking.”

He squeezes his eyes closed and scoots past the bathroom as promised, despite his borderline painful need to go right now. He’s not going to make it much longer, and he starts looking around at all the isolated doorways, contemplating the option of relieving himself there if he can’t manage to find the very specific bathroom Evie told him he absolutely had to use.

Luckily, he spots it just a few feet away on the other side of the hallway, exactly where Evie said it would be. He breathes a short sigh of relief as he darts across and slips through the door.  

At first glance, the bathroom looks and sounds empty. But he knows better than to trust his senses completely. So Carlos takes a quick scan of each corner and stall to confirm that he is, indeed, alone before sliding into the last stall closest to the window and locking the door behind him.

Carlos completely forgets the world around him then, lost in the exhiliration of finally being able to relieve himself. He’s had to pee for so long he can’t even stop the happy groan that escapes his lips, the pressure inside immediately gone in that blissful moment. He’s so focused on that pleasant feeling that he almost...almost...doesn’t hear the soft creaking of the bathroom door opening.

It’s a slow sound, just barely audible, but he manages to catch it anyway, the years of constant need to remain alert and attentive now on his side. He  sucks in his breath and forces himself to stop his stream, wincing in pain at the involuntary pause. He hops onto the toilet seat ledge nimbly and balances there, remaning motionless, quiet, and with his ears piqued to listen.

The door closes with a soft scrape along the damaged linoleum floor, followed closely by the pad of slow, deliberate footsteps. They pause for a moment at each stall as they move along, clearly looking for something. Or someone.

When they make a stop in front of Carlos’ stall, his muscles tense uncomfortably to make himself be as still as possible. He squeezes his eyes shut and silently wishes for whoever’s on the other side to leave him alone.

But instead, the feet step closer to him, and he hears a dry chuckle.

“Come out, come out wherever you are!” Jay sing-songs. “I know you’re in there, De Vil.”

Evil, poor Evie’s going to hate him for this.

Carlos lets out a breath and drops to the ground with a loud stomp. No point in being quiet now is there?

“Fine, fine! You caught me, ok? Just, let me finish pissing and I’ll come out. I’m almost done.”

“Aw, I interrupted your pee pee break??” Jay teases. “Sorry, pup! By all means, continue.”

Carlos rolls his eyes as he turns back to the toilet. Word travels fast at this school, and his mother’s transgressions were the talk of Dragon Hall within a day of his arrival. The puppy jokes and nicknames that have already started are beyond annoying, but there’s not much he can do about it.

He’s focused on finishing now, trying to hurry himself so Jay doesn’t have time to entertain the idea of breaking in the stall. But only a second later he can hear the lock jostling, making him jump a little and drop his aim. He curses at the pee trickling on his feet, shaking off and hurriedly tucking himself in just as Jay frees the latch and pushes the door open. 

Carlos is met with a wicked smirk, which Jay immediately drops to a frown when he spots Carlos fumbling the button of his shorts closed.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” he mumbles, sauntering closer. Carlos stumbles back, slamming the backs of his knees into the porcelain bowl of the toilet and causing him to arch awkwardly. He turns his body and catches himself on the tank before he can fall farther, taking the opportunity to flick the handle and flush before he launches himself back.

“Hey there!” Jay snorts, grabbing Carlos around the waist and pulling him close when Carlos’ body lands against him. The boy is quick to twist and squirm, freeing himself from the thief and lunging for the door. Jay is faster though, and slams the stall shut with one hand before Carlos can escape.

“Come now, C, did I say it was time for us to leave??” Jay tuts. Carlos presses his face against the stall door, biting his lip hard to avoid a snappy retort. He’s at Jay’s mercy in this stall, and doubts he’ll be a fair match against the boy’s muscles, rippling obviously from the cutoff sleeves of his vest.

A surprisingly gentle hand cups under Carlos’ chin, guiding his face away from the door. Reluctantly, he follows it, until his body is turned and fully facing Jay. His face is tipped upward to meet Jay’s smile, which seems less menacing but somehow still cocky and triumphant. Carlos can’t fight the sneer on his own lips, which only prompts more laughter from Jay.

“Ohhh, someone’s a little fiery, huh De Vil? You’ve got some balls, considering you’re the one invading my bathroom without my permission.” 

Carlos perks a brow, glaring questioningly at the brunette. “Your bathroom? I-I ...really? Ev-I mean, nobody, told me that.”

Jay shakes his head at that, and releases his grip on Carlos’ chin, letting his fingers drop to tease along his jawline instead. Carlos holds his breath at the gentle sensation, pushing himself into the door with enough force that he can feel the latch digging into his back. It’s painful, but if it’s the only way to spare some space between him and Jay, he’ll take what he can get.

“Guess that’s lesson one then, pup,” Jay taunts, fingers still lightly caressing Carlos’ face. “The halls are mine when class is in session. You got that?” Carlos musters a short nod. “Good. And that includes any place there’s not a teacher. You need to use the bathroom? Grab stuff from a storage closet? Or even just hide out in there, you gotta pay the toll.”

“T-toll?” 

Jay still feels too close, so Carlos tries to shift back more, which only produces a sharp pain when the latch scrapes him harshly again. He’s grateful for the distraction, though, when Jay dips in closer and grins wide.

“Yep. Everyone’s gotta pay up. No exceptions.”

Carlos stares at Jay for a moment, but feels uneasy when the boy is more than happy to stare back at him, their noses close and practically touching. He swallows thickly then, letting his gaze fall to the floor between them as he carefully sorts his words.

“I-I...but...Jay. Y-you know. I already told...” he looks up for a second and catches a glance at Jay’s now audacious smirk. And that makes him seethe.

“You know I don’t have anything,” Carlos states flatly, feeling a new surge of confidence. “I already told you. My mom’s a bitch, I barely get food and clothes. You think I have shit to spare for you?”

He shrinks back after his bold outburst, waiting for Jay’s response. But the thief doesn’t move, and his smirk doesn’t fade. He does take a generous step back though, allowing almost an arm’s length between him and Carlos. Carlos relaxes slightly at that, breathing a soft sigh of relief when he’s able to free his back from the painful latch. But even with the space between them now, Jay’s eyes never leave his. Carlos hasn’t even seen him blink! And the lingering stare is making him shiver.

“Well, not all tolls have to be cash and stuff, do they?” Jay retorts, licking his lips a little. “I’ve accepted, other...forms of payment. But you know that, don’t you? Smart guy like you. I know you’ve heard the rumors.”

Carlos swallows again, his mouth feeling horribly dry all of a sudden. He has heard the rumors. How could he not? Jay and Mal are the big bads of the school. There’s plenty of stories being passed around by everyone, mostly pointing out the best ways to avoid bodily harm at the hands of the two of them. And while he has heard that both are mostly appeased by money or things to hock for money, the entire student body is also aware of Jay’s willingness to trade, physical pleasures, as well. Though Evie had made it clear that it’s usually girls that makes those kind of offers, the kind that Jay is happy to accept, Carlos can’t help but wonder if that’s what Jay’s implying right now. Because the way he looks at him, and the constant lazy scans of his eyes up and down Carlos’ body, are giving him pause. 

Can Jay be asking for that? From Carlos? That seems...impossible.

But then Jay leans back in, bracing an arm above Carlos with a brow cocked and a suggestive curl to his lips, and Carlos thinks it might actually be entirely possible.

“I think you know what I’m thinking.” Jay interrupts Carlos’ thoughts with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Up to you, pup. You barged into my bathroom and used my stall. Now, how are you going to make that up to me, hm?”

Carlos chews on his lip, refusing to dare a look at Jay. He’s not sure what to say if he did, so he keeps his eyes trained on his fingers, tangling and untangling them together while he thinks. 

Fuck, he really should have listened to Evie.

Both boys are distracted then by the slam! of the bathroom door and irritably loud clacks across the linoleum.

“Carlos?? Are you in here??”

Evie! Carlos bites back a smile.

“Ev-mmph!”

A hand claps over his mouth, with Jay’s eyes wide and glaring at him. Carlos squirms, twisting away from Jay’s hand and wriggling along the stall door in the process. Then they hear an audible sigh, followed by a few slower clicks forward.

“Carlos, I know you’re in there.”

He wants to answer, but Jay keeps his hand in place, putting a finger to his own lips to silence Carlos.

“Jay, I know you’re in there, too.”

Jay grits his teeth and rolls his eyes as Evie raps harshly on the door.

“Come on, boys. Do you think I can’t see your feet? Stop wasting my time and open up.”

Jay grumbles, dropping his hand from Carlos’ mouth and giving him the chance to scurry away from the door. Jay tries to reach for him again but Carlos slides back quickly, jamming himself behind the toilet and against the cement wall to avoid Jay’s grasp.

“Well fuck,” Jay grunts, giving Carlos a frustrated glare. At that moment they here the latch click, and Jay steps back just in time to avoid the door swinging open.

“Boys,” Evie scolds, her eyes stern as they dart between Jay and Carlos, before finally settling on the dark haired boy in front of her.

“And what do you think you’re doing, Jay?” she scolds, crossing her arms as she glares coldly at him. “You know you don’t belong in here.”

“Calm down, Blue,” Jay snickers. “You know damn well I go wherever I want. Besides, you’re the one in the men’s room, aren’t you? Last time I checked, you weren’t properly...equipped, to come in here.”

He glares back at her, a proud smirk splayed on his lips. But Evie doesn’t falter, stepping forward instead and marching her way slowly towards the other boy in the corner.

“As if I’d ever want to use a men’s room anyway,” she snaps back, reaching a hand towards Carlos, He grabs it, intertwining their fingers with a relieved smile. Evie flashes a grin his way before returning to Jay with a disgusted sneer.

“And you’ve never seen what I’m equipped with, so don’t you dare try to go around talking about me like I would actually stoop to being one of your little fucktoys.”

She gives Carlos a gentle tug and he springs quickly away from the wall, following Evie’s lead to stand behind her, placing her between him and Jay.

“This bathroom is neutral territory and you know it.” Evie grits, leaning into Jay’s face. “You’re this close to doing your own chemistry homework,” she threatens with a pinch of her fingers. “I bet Jafar wouldn’t be too keen on you getting kicked out of school and losing all your marks here.”

Jay scoffs and looks away, but stays silent. Evie breaks into a smug grin, shoving Jay lightly in the chest. “So, Carlos and I are going to leave now, and you can find another form of payment elsewhere. Got it?”

She whips away before Jay can respond and struts out of the stall, dragging Carlos along behind her. They manage to reach the door before Jay stomps out after them.

“Hey! You wanna be a little bitch then we could just re-nig on our deal! What do you think of that? Just leave you to the fucking wolves at this school. Puppy, too,” he adds with a nod to Carlos. “You’ll get beat so bad the first week you’ll be begging for us again!”

Evie’s gaze softens, and she looks at Jay with a bit of pity before turning back to Carlos.

“Sweetie, go right out the door and wait for me, ok?” Evie asks gently, but Carlos’ brow is furrowed, and he looks confused.

“But-”

“Carlos, please? I’ll be right out. We just need to...talk. It’ll just take a minute.”

Carlos watches her for a moment, searching her face. She smiles brightly at him, and he finally nods and walks out into the hall and leaves them alone.

Evie gives an exasperated sigh. “Look,” she starts, and she reachs for Jay’s hand to give it a squeeze. His eyes widen in surprise at the gesture. “I’m going to let this slide, ok? I just...don’t think you’re thinking straight right now.”

Jay throws a heated glare at Evie as her lips twitch into a smirk. “You don’t think you’re being subtle, do you?” she chuckles, shaking her head. “Carlos may not see what’s going on, but he’s the only one that’s clueless, Jay.”

She drops his hand and takes a step back, reaching for the door handle. “He’s my friend,” she whispers, just loud enough for Jay to hear. “And I’m going to protect him, so just...don’t do anything you might regret.” 

Evie pulls the door open slightly and moves to leave, but pauses when she hears Jay snickering behind her.

“What, is that supposed to be some kind of threat?”

She glances up through the doorway and catches a glimpse of Carlos just outside. His eyes are wide with curiosity and worry, and Evie can’t stop herself from smiling.

“Take it however you want, Jay,” she quips over her shoulder. “I was only trying to give you some friendly advice.”

“We’re not friends,” he hisses through his teeth.

"Maybe we’re not,” Evie replies coldly, “But we’re not enemies, are we? Unless you want to change that? You know where to find me if you do,” she teases with a wiggle of her fingers.

“Bye for now, Jay-Jay.”

Evie giggles to herself as she walks out of the bathroom, ignoring the muffled roars coming from behind the now closed door and looping her arm through Carlos’ to pull him along.

“We can study at my house tonight, ok? I just need to see about fixing one little problem and then we can get going.”

[sourfurball221]

“I trust you with my life...” Ellie Williams x reader

Prompt: I trust you with my life

Triggers: mentions of suicide/self-harm, mentioned blood

Notes: I did a small cross over of the Telltale Walking Dead series, its not really good but I wanted to put Clementine and Violet into the story

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“RUN!”

Y/n heard the loud screech followed by several gunshots coming from the door that her girlfriend, Ellie, had just gone through. Instinctively she tightened her grip on her gun, watching as Ellie flew out of the door and closed it, pressing her body weight against the curving piece of wood. The door bent with each thud and with the old screws slowly coming loose, it wouldn’t take much more effort to rip them from their holes.

Y/n looked around, noticing the bookcase next to the door. She immediately ran over and started shoving the bookcase in front of the door, hearing Ellie continually yell at her to run. “Y/n go!” Ellie yelled, her strength starting to falter as more and more infected start ramming into the door.

Y/n ignored her pleas and pushed the bookcase until it practically on top of the other girl. “Shove it over!” She shouted.

“Just go!”

“Move out of the fucking way or I will throw this shelf on top of you!”

Just as she was about to respond, the door broke of its hinges. Ellie jumped back, barely missing the swinging arms of a Clicker as Y/n threw the bookcase on top of it. The infected continued banging on the door, some trying to climb through the small area that the shelf couldn’t cover. Ellie looked over, saying, “That’s not gonna hold for long. We have to move.”

Y/n nodded in agreement, grabbing an extra bottle and the small amount of ammo that was in the kitchen. Ellie looked over at the other girl while reloading her guns before she ran out the door. Y/n followed close behind.

They followed the streets until they were a safe distance away from the old office filled with infected. Slowing down, Y/n jogged over to a building on the side of the road. Seems empty, she thought nodding to herself. “Come on,” she called to Ellie, opening the door and stepping into the old, dimly lit coffee shop. The walls were covered with shelves, the books once on them splayed everywhere from raiders and people looking for anything that might be of use. Tables and chairs were turned over, the old coffee machines shuffled around on the counters. Y/n walked over to the register, clicking it open. She quickly grabbed the ammo hidden inside before closing it again.

Ellie walked inside, ducking her head when a cloud of dust fell on her from closing the door. “Looks like the best place to spend the night, I’ll check the back for infected,” Y/n readied her gun and moved to the old door behind the counter. She lightly stepped into the entryway and heard the screech of a Clicker somewhere inside. Following the noise down the hall, she looked to the bathroom door next to her, hearing the clicking louder than before. Let’s go, she thought, gripping her pistol.

Behind the door, she found a Clicker tied up against the old toilet. Y/n took a quick look around the room, noticing a piece of paper wedged beside the mirror before she aimed and killed the infected creature. The body slumped down, head falling forward as the shot finished its ring within the small space.

Looking back at the note, Y/n picked it up and unfolded it, reading the contents of it to herself.

Hey, to whoever finds me, thank you. I… I wasn’t strong enough to do it myself and I couldn’t make Vi do it for me, she doesn’t deserve to do that. She said she’d come back to finish the job when she thought she was strong enough, but if you’re reading this, I guess she just never made it back. I told her to go, I don’t regret that choice, she’s lost to many people already, I wouldn’t let her count me with the people she loved that she’s had to kill.

When you kill me, leave this note so that Vi can come back and see it, she can know that I will never blame her and that she… that she’s amazing.

Violet,

I love you. Always and forever. No fucking virus, person, not even death can stop me from loving you. Even if my body isn’t connected with my mind anymore, I want you to know that I am going to be haunting you.

I’m always with you, Violet. Keep Goofball safe.

Remember, you’re still not bitten.

Love,

C.

Y/n looked up at the Clicker, seeing the old clothes hanging off her shoulders, a jean jacket discarded to side probably from when the fever was setting in. She looked down at the note once more, seeing the tear stains and the erase marks from trying to find the right words, the last words that would ever be known from her. Y/n noticed a knife placed next to the jacket, wrapped in a small piece of cloth. She carefully picked it up unwrapped it, seeing a beautiful long 7-inch knife, the handle was made of what felt like pure leather. Y/n spun it in her hands testing the weight of it before she noticed the small engraving on the side.

Happy Birthday Clem! Love you, forever and always. Don’t get bitten.

Vi and Goofball

Y/n looked over at the body of the infected creature, the person who used to have someone who loved them and who they had loved just as much. She took the knife and stabbed it through the note next to the body, making sure it was visible to anyone who walked through the door. Come back, Violet. She might be dead, but she needs you right now, Y/n thought, closing the door behind her before walking to the front of the shop.

“Took care of it?” Ellie asked once Y/n stepped back into the small coffee shop.

She nodded her head, shrugging her backpack onto the floor. She let out a small wince as she felt a sting down her left arm. “Ah, shit.” Y/n looked to her arm to see a gash reaching from her shoulder to the top of her elbow. She lightly moved her arm, seeing how deep it was or if she would need stitches when they got back to Jackson.

Ellie’s face scrunched with worry at the curse. She looked over to see Y/n rummaging through her bag for something when she noticed the line of blood seeping down the side of her girlfriend’s shirt. “Y/n,” she mumbled, storming over to look at the wound.

“Its fine, its fine. Nothing too deep, probably won’t need stitches, I just want to bandage it up before we head back out again.”

Ellie grabbed her arm, eliciting a small hiss of pain from the other girl, and gently turning it to inspect the bloodied arm. She sighed, looking up at Y/n before sitting her on the counter and grabbing a med kit from her bag. “Thanks,” Y/n mumbled, sliding back and leaning her arm forward so Ellie could apply the bandage.

Ellie didn’t reply. She stared intently at the bandage, making sure to keep it evenly placed and just tight enough to stop most of the bleeding. Silence ensued for several minutes as she continued the to wrap the hand-crafted bandage. “You should have run…” she whispered, stuffing the end of the bandage into itself.

Y/n glanced up at the girl in front of her, seeing the light reflect off her eyes. “If I had run, you wouldn’t be here.”

“But you wouldn’t have been hurt.”

“Injuries can heal.”

“It’s better me than you.”

“Why would you say that?” Y/n asked, scoffing at the girl.

“Because it’s true, I could have saved the world, I could have saved you and you wouldn’t have to deal with this shit anymore.” She turned her head, stepping away from the counter.

Y/n sat up and grabbed her before she could move any farther. “If you weren’t here, I wouldn’t be here.”

This time Ellie scoffed, shaking her head. “What does that even mean?”

“Ellie.” Y/n stood up and walked over to the other girl, forcing her to look up. “I would be dead if it wasn’t for you being here.”

“Jesse or Dina easily could have saved you from the infected,” she whispered, going to turn away again.

Y/n shook her head again. “Jesse and Dina aren’t you. They don’t notice when I’m not really feeling myself or when I’m having a rough time with things. They don’t know me like you do. You’ve saved me from more things than infected. I don’t think you realize it but you’ve saved me from other people, even from myself.”

Ellie’s eyes widened as she heard this but Y/n kept talking. “You can’t say that I would be better off with you gone or dead, because believe me I wouldn’t. If you weren’t here, I’d probably be infected laying in fucking field littered with bodies. You helped me when I first came to Jackson, you didn’t even realize how much you helped me when you killed David, you stopped me from-” she shook her head as though to rid herself of the memory “-something, just because you noticed that I looked down that day when I went outside the walls with my horse. If you weren’t here, I’d be dead, probably infected too. So, don’t ever-” she lifted her finger and jabbed it in the middle of Ellie’s chest, “-ever say that you shouldn’t be here.”

By the end of Y/n’s speech her eyes were red from holding in tears while the green-eyed girl just stared down at her. Ellie immediately wrapped her in a hug, shoving her face into the crook of Y/n neck. “I love you,” she whispered. “I trust you with my life…”

Y/n shakily sighed, returning the hug. “And I trust you with mine…”