#i wrote it in a crazed haze after that

[itsa-me-lily]

So I wrote this during my lunch hour in a haze of fruit and inspiration. Thank you @kitsur for reading this over for me to check the ending and in general for hearing me go on my crazed cork board rants some days (most days)

This is a sequel to “That’s My Purse” and I really really encourage you to read part one because it sets all of this up. And maybe read this if the bed comment is confusing. Also thank you @nightunite for the original ask that lead to all this.

Here is the Simon & Thimble playlist

Here is the MPS AU masterlist

Content warning; cheating (kind of. It’s more non monogamy I guess and it’s very debatable if it’s even ethical because I really don’t think Simon would explain his arrangement to a stranger), fatphobia, misogyny, “bro language”

Alright, he could admit it. You weren’t the worst person to be married to. Though you were certainly in the running for most annoying. Always had some smart comment to say, acting like it was an Olympic sport you were aiming for gold in. Sometimes Simon just wanted to eat his beans on toast in god damn peace. Was that too much to ask for?

So yeah you seemed to always run your mouth with him, but sometimes you did say things that made logical sense.

He didn’t care about the whole demi-whatever thing you had explained to him, even if it sparked some sort of recognition in the back of his brain. You didn’t want to have sex with him, so he didn’t want to have sex with you, simple enough. And he could appreciate that you didn’t want the entire base to know he was being cuckholded, however willingly. Though he didn’t really care what people around him thought.

But he’d give what he got. The few times he did find someone that held some interest to him, in some after mission bar, he at least made sure there wasn’t a surface level connection to the base, or you. He’d go back to their place and then act like he had just gotten back from the mission when he went home the next morning. It didn’t seem to bother you and he’d figure you’d appreciate the extra night in the bed and not the pull out.

The first time he tried though, Price nearly put him on his ass. Pulling him to the alley outside the pub and shoving him against a wall, demanding to know if Simon was the kind of man to ignore his vows just to get his dick wet. Trying to explain your agreement with Price went phenomenally awful, and the captain wouldn’t look at him different until all three of you sat down and you confirmed that you were indeed okay with it.

And then of course it had to happen all over again with the other two chuckleheads he worked with. By the time you were having your third sit down with Soap you’d just handed him some informational pamphlet you cooked up. Always had to be cheeky you did. He didn’t think they really understood, but as long as they didn’t look at him like he was a scummy bastard he didn’t care.

So every now and again he’d find someone to follow back to theirs, just to blow off some steam, get rid of the twitch that lived under his skin. The sex was okay. Nothing to write home about. It got the job done.

It was what Simon was planning to do tonight. There was already some bird leaning against the bar, giving him the stare as she nibbled on the end of her drink straw. Plump little thing. But before he could get up to start his advance, voices behind him broke out in the loud drunk way young twenty-something men did when they had too much liquid courage.

“Listen man, pussy is pussy even in the dark”

“Yeah but you got some balls to go after Riley’s wife.”

That stopped him, keeping him glued to his seat. What’s this about you? Judging how Soap’s bottle paused at his lips though, Simon wasn’t the only one to hear it.

“Yeah well she found your balls lacking bro.”

There was mocking laughter from the table behind him. At least Simon wasn’t the only one catching casualties from your mouth. He was going to let it go, maybe just see who they were to keep in mind, when the ring leader decided to seal his fate.

“Yeah yeah. Fat cow’s acting all tough now but she’ll be begging for it sooner or later.”

No Simon didn’t notice how his grip tightened around his beer, tight enough that his fingertips turned white.

“Dude you think?”

No one in the vicinity heard how Simon’s chair scrapped violently against the ground as he stood up.

“There’s no way Riley is fucking that. Even with back shots she’s-”

No one at the other table expected Simon Riley to appear out of thin air, heavy hand coming down with a crushing force onto the man stupid enough to slander your name. Pearson. Of course it was. Jackass who thought he was god’s gift to everyone because Daddy had a bit of money and some girls let him stick it in once.

Yes, you had to have the last word all the fucking time. You had too much shit, and he honestly thought you were a little too obsessed with your guinea pigs.

But you always met him head on. Was so unapologetically yourself, laughing so loudly at terrible jokes even he got startled now and again. You respected who he was, how he was. Like hell he was going to let some personification of a left ballsack talk about you like that.

“She’s my wife”

[fictionalsownme]

More Than A Woman | wilford warfstache x gn!viewer / reader |

chapter one - "I've known you very well"

A/N: hi everyone!! I'm so excited to post this! Usually I spend a long time on the stuff I write but I wrote a good chunk of this in a feverish burst haha, I've been wanting to write for Wil and had such a clear idea of how I see him in my head for so long :)) This fic will probably be around 10 chapters~ish and progress will probably be a little slow but I'm also trying to get faster at my writing so I guess we'll see! Getting it down is always the hardest, then you spend a bit of time hating it, then the fixing can start! Anyway, I hope you guys like this, I love this dorky weirdo a lot for whatever reason, and I'd love to write for other egos too :) ((there might be a guest appearance or two in here in the last few chapters if plans don't change 👀)) hope you guys enjoy the first chapter at least! lmk 🥰! word count: 2.9k notes: reader is gender-neutral, similar to all of mark's stuff :) -- the title is just after the song! no pronouns or descriptors are used other than the occasional they/them. reader is the viewer (& district attorney) from wkm, adwm, ahwm, iswm, etc, but that won't come up until later. wmlw wilford. story will be mostly fluff, some hurt/comfort & angst, lots of romance and flirting! story is adapted from an idea I had for my self insert. we will get into some lore stuff (or at least my understanding of the lore 👀) and filling in gaps with headcannons, but it's mostly about wilford & reader and I'll try to explain as we go so don't worry about it too much if you don't know all of it. especially since I don't know if my understanding is always 100% accurate 👉👈 let's have fun yall! 💞

masterlist | AO3

The music playing softly over the convenience store speakers was pleasant, if slightly boring. Like elevator music— there only to help ease the passing of time. Your night shift would end soon, and the sky could be seen as it lightened more every minute through the windowed front of the building.

Other than that, the old store was quiet. Dusty. Pink and orange neon strips lined the walls near the ceiling. They overpowered the dated fluorescent lights, casting everything in a slightly peach haze. Like a dream. 

Different sections of the store were marked with neon too, the letters glowed against the wall denoting the drinks, the snacks, the hot food… You liked your little store. Even if the unyielding isolation of your work made you a bit… complacent. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d truly talked with someone.

The ice creams chilled your fingers through the wrappers as you pulled them from their box and slotted them into place. Even with the cold air of the freezer wafting over you, you could smell the cool summer air coming in the sliding front doors.

You liked to prop them open on dawns like these. The convenience store lights did draw in the occasional pestering bug, but they usually found their way out again before long. You did get a bat once. Albeit a little crazed and frantic, you were surprised to find it harmless. Maybe a little lost. Now that thing seemed like it would never leave. 

Refocusing on your task, you brushed your condensation-soaked fingers on your work apron, tied tight behind your neck and around your back, and shut the freezer door. 

The motion alert chimed a pleasant tune through the staticky old speakers as a customer entered the open doors from the street.

You called an automatic, “Welcome in~,” and went about straightening a shelf of snack bars and chocolate. You didn’t bother to look in their direction as you heard them make their way through the aisles.

“Pardon me,” said their strange, nearly British accent from beside you now. You turned to the source of the voice, the man who’d just walked in, and your eyes went to his outfit first. 

A silky-- almost sparkly in how it caught the light-- lavender shirt with mismatched buttons revealed expanses of his bare chest. It was paired with white bell-bottoms and a fake pink afro hanging half-off his head, about to fall off. He had olive skin and dark hair-- nearly black--, fluffy and sticking up every which way like hands had been running through it. Scruffy facial hair framed a thick mustache that tinted slightly pink where it turned up at the ends.

He looked… honestly, he looked ridiculous. But the 70s getup was fun, you supposed. And his eyes-- dark brown and monolid-- were handsome. Underneath all the… extra mess. You blinked, slowly, in a way that felt like waking up.

“Uh, hi. Are you coming from a costume party or something?” It was August, but you supposed it was never too early to start the spooky season. 

“Oh! Do you know of one? I do love a good costume. But no. Just the regular-sort. Just woke up from one.” He scanned the products near his head, grabbed a protein bar, sniffed the wrapper, guffawed, and put it back.

“You just woke up? Are you alright?”

“Oh, worry not, friend, this is normal for my level of reverie! I’m not even hungover!” He laughed, his hands going to his hips.

You stared at him.

“I was just looking for something to gnaw on! To nourish myself before I’m on my way.” His eyes were still traveling all over, not really seeing you.

Now in theory, a strange man coming in at this hour, acting even stranger, with his clothes disheveled? You knew you should be on your way to your safe space behind the counter to get him checked out and exiting the store as fast as possible. But there was something about him… 

Something you couldn’t place…

Instead you raised your eyebrows and relaxed against the cooler door. “Uh, I guess that depends on what kind of food you like,” You offered. After a moment, his gaze landed on you and he seemed to finally take you in. Your uniform, your crossed arms, your patient expression, your features. His face scrunched into confusion.

A moment passed, staring at each other like that. “Your shirt’s looking a little rough, you know.”

“Have we met, friend?” He asked as he began to fix his buttons. 

You watched passively as more of his chest came into view. He either didn’t notice or didn’t mind your blatant staring. You weren’t sure why you were staring, or what you were feeling as you did so. 

You weren’t gawking at his abs or anything-- well,-- not that he didn’t have abs. He did, sort of. The expanse of his chest and abdomen were tight with toned muscle. He definitely wasn’t lacking abs, anyway. Either way… this was about something different. 

You wondered for a moment if a vague familiarity was what you were picking up on, but quickly dismissed it.

“I feel like I’d remember meeting you.” 

You realized with a start that your comment could be seen as flirtatious, and added quickly, “Just, you know-- generally.”

But he just hummed and spun on his heels, turning away. You sighed and found yourself in-step behind him, hands in your uniform pockets. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Well, either way!” He started, his energy returning tenfold. “Let's see what this cute little shop has to eat!” 

For some reason, you asked, “Do you have money?” 

He froze. “Er, no~. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind what?”

“Well, spotting me of course! Let’s just say I owe you one, eh friend?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Thought so.” 

Thought so? Maybe you did know him… 

It was your turn to squint in displaced confusion. “What’s your name?”

His voice came from behind you and you spun around, your shoes squeaking on the tile floor. When did he sneak around you? 

He bent over and twirled his hand, a flamboyant bow finally knocking the afro off his head. “Wilford Warfstache, at your service.”

“That’s your name?” 

He righted himself. “For now.” It suited him well enough, but for some reason it sounded misplaced.

… But no, either way, you definitely hadn’t met him before. You didn’t know many people in the first place, let alone someone so eccentric.

Still, you were curious about him. Curious about his personality and who he was. He felt sort of like a puzzle waiting to be solved. And so far, despite his quirks, despite how admittedly weird you’d also been acting, he’d been friendly. You couldn’t say the staring and prodding questions were too in-character for you. At least not when it came to customers. 

His hair looked softer without the wig to weigh it down-- parted at his brow and long enough to fluff over the tips of his ears and end where his neck met his spine. You reached down to scoop the curly mop of synthetic hair up off the floor.

“Where did you get this thing?”

He hummed something like ‘I don’t know’, his eyes sort of wide like a clueless puppy’s. 

“What, you just kind of have it?”

“Yea’p.”

You squinted at him, a smirk forming on your lips. “How about I do you a favor and throw this away?”

He shrugged, hummed an ‘alright’ sound, and turned away. 

“Oh no, I was kidding! God, here--!” You had to grab his wrist to stop him from wandering off further and placed the pink afro in his hand.

You had just been trying to tease him, but now you just felt bad. “Look, Wilford, you want something to eat? We have to throw the hot food out every night. You can have a taquito or a slice of pizza or something if you want.”

Then he was frozen again-- staring down at where your fingers wrapped around his wrist. Your eyes followed his gaze down and then you were staring too.

A moment passed. Then two. Finally, you let go and crossed your arms again, tucking your hands away where they couldn’t embarrass you again.

“... Fuck, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I did that.” You did your best to clear your throat.

But he was still stuck there. He blinked a few times and his gaze met your eyes, his brows gathering together. 

“Wh-What did you say your name was, friend?” He seemed so… serious all of sudden. So dire.

You hadn’t mentioned it yet, but told him with a hesitant voice. 

His expression blanked, eyes widening. He brought his arm, the offending afro in tow, to his chest, touching his wrist where you’d held it.

“Oh…” 

You raised your brows and asked softly, “Sorry, do you know me, then?”

“Hm?” And he blinked like his mind was clearing, like he’d forgotten you were there. 

He cleared his throat, smiled-- ear to ear-- his mustache lopsided like a cartoon. “Oh-- nevermind about that! Some food would be lovely, if you don’t mind.”

His eyes were sparkling. 

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing fancy. Here,” And you walked over towards the front counter. Wilford trailed close behind you-- holding onto the wig in his hands like a school kid holding a lunch box-- his gaze wandering over the store again like he hadn’t seen it the first time.

You arrived at the hot foods section, a glassed-off section of day-old food over heated rods. You shrugged. “If you have a sensitive stomach, maybe don’t,” you started, “but it’s mostly fine to be honest. I eat it if I’m in a pinch, you know.”

You hopped up to sit on the counter, your legs facing Wilford, and leaned back to reach around and grab the tongs waiting there. You straightened and clapped them together twice. You offered him a smile. “What’ll it be, Mr. Warfstache?” Then a quieter, “--that was your last name right?”

“Do you gravitate towards anything yourself?”

“Can’t go wrong with a slice of pizza, I guess. Even here.”

His smile grew sort of soft. “Then that. If you please.”

“You got it.”

You leaned over again and served up the slice of moderately warm and slightly greasy pizza on a brown napkin and passed it off to him. 

“Much obliged.”

You got one for yourself too, and when you righted and your eyes found Wilford again, he was sitting in a retro-style diner chair you’d never seen before-- his feet against the edge of the counter beside you.

You couldn’t help the surprised laughter that choked out of you. “Wha-- where did you even find that?”

The chair teetered on its two legs as he leaned precariously back, tilting his head at your question. The pink wig sat in his lap and you couldn’t help thinking it looked like some weird dog.

“Well, there’s no need to worry! I’m only borrowing it, I’m not a barbarian.”

And you just knew you weren’t getting more of an answer than that.

“So who even are you?” You asked as he took a bite of the pizza, somehow pulling all the cheese right off the top in one piece. He pouted down at the offending mozzarella, slurping it into his mouth and swallowing it. “Do you live around here?”

“Mm. I don’t really live anywhere. Much more the exploring-- ever on the move-- type.”

He was so expressive. It really felt like talking to an old cartoon come-to-life or something. You turned to lean against the side of the glass cover, swinging your legs so your feet rested on the counter, not far from his still against the edge. You weren’t touching at all, but you were surprised at how quickly the two of you fell into a casual-- albeit timidly curious-- rhythm. 

“So what do you do?” And you began to eat too.

He beamed, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “I’m an interviewer! Warfstache Tonight, that’s what my show is called! It’s quite a professional endeavor!”

You smiled and hummed around your bite of pizza, impressed. That actually explained a lot. And it suited him nicely enough. “Sounds pretty glamorous.”

“And what about you? You can’t just be a convenience store clerk!” He seemed so affronted by the idea. Crinkling his nose, dropping his voice an octave. “How dreadfully boring.”

You winced. “‘Just a convenience store clerk?’ Ouch, Wilford…” You couldn’t help frowning down at your slice. 

 “Oh! No no, pardon me!” He let the chair fall back to four legs, waving the idea way with a panicked hand. “I only meant that… this isn't what truly stirs your passions, is it? Do you do anything at your leisure? For work or just… something you enjoy?”

You squinted at him. But you didn’t really think he was trying to insult you. And he wasn’t wrong. It just… wasn’t always the most fun when someone pointed it out. Especially like that. 

You sighed, fidgeting as you considered his question. “Not right now… This job keeps me pretty occupied. But you know, it’s not too bad. It keeps me, I don’t know, grounded I guess.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded, taking another bite. “I do hope you get more opportunities soon, then.” He said, surprisingly grounded.

You looked at him. “... Thanks.” And you meant it.

“And… my apologies for the earlier, uh, miswording.”

 “That’s fine… I’d be curious to hear more about your show, though! Have you interviewed anyone interesting or anything?”

A beat. A sort of tiredness settled into his shoulders and he peered up at you. “The odd gold-star guest did wander in from time to time. I’m not sure if my skills were quite deserving of them at the time.”

Was that… shame?

“The truth is, I couldn’t quite live up to the role. I--” He laughed, pained. He cleared his throat. “I’m taking a bit of a break from show business for the moment.”

Ah. So that’s what happened. You offered him a sympathetic smile. “To party? That’s probably why you don’t have any money, Wilford. And why you have to rely on shitty convenience store food?” You held up your greasy napkin like it was evidence.

“Now don’t underestimate the power of a good party! And this food is fine, I’m grateful for it,” He crumpled the now empty napkin and gestured wildly with it. “The truth is I get by just fine. I’m just not sure what else I should be doing.”

You looked out the front windows. The sky was getting lighter. The timer marking the end of your shift would go off any minute.

So maybe that’s why he’d been asking you about your passions. You felt bad for him. He was strange, to be sure. And a little hard to follow. But he was also… sweet. He had a softness about him.

And still… there was that feeling that hadn’t disappeared since meeting him. Like… like your soul recognized him. Maybe not deeply. But distantly. Like you’d met him in a dream. It was a ridiculous notion. Ridiculous didn’t seem beyond his territory.

You turned, legs coming down from the counter once again. You leaned forward, your hand landing at the junction of his shoulder and neck. His silk shirt was soft under your fingers. His eyes jumped up to yours and you looked down at him with a smile. 

“You liked doing your show right? You want to be an interviewer?”

He nodded slowly. His lashes fluttered. 

“Then that’s what you should be doing! You just have to try again!” You shrugged with one shoulder. “It might suck a lot. And you might fail again. But pick yourself back up. Keep going. I’m sure you can do it if you keep at it and think outside the box, you know. Failing only means failing if you stop.”

You leaned back, your hand sliding away. He stared at you.

“That’s what the rest of us do, anyway. Honestly, maybe you should do your show online! You know, livestream it or something. I’m sure you’d find your own way to it.”

Slowly, a smile crept back in, the corners of his eyes creasing. 

“What a wonderful idea…” 

God, his eyes… 

You looked down at your own napkin, laughing a little at yourself. “Wilford, I promise, the advice I just gave you was nothing crazy.”

“Well, perhaps it’s just a little too rare that I get a pick-me-up.”

You hopped down from the counter. “Swing by whenever, I’ll hand them out for free. Though, if you’re always on the move, I guess you’re probably not in town for long, huh?”

He quickly followed your lead and stood, his chair nearly falling in his haste. “Uh— w-well I, I don’t know, I could always… linger for a day or two. Hard to say really.” 

“Uh huh.” You smirked at him, raising your brows. “Well, if that constant partying you have going on brings you back here, feel free stop in, okay? … It’d be nice to have someone in here every once in a while. Well, someone friendly, anyway.” 

“Right. Will do. Of course.”

You gave him two solid pats on the chest and turned to throw the napkins away behind the counter. When you turned to face him again, he was gone.  Only slightly confused, you quickly recovered and yelled a quick, “bye~!” to the now empty store.

[icycoldninja]

I’ve just come across ur page for the first time and I really like ur writing, so if u don’t mind this request..Can you write the DMC boys with a reader who secretly writes a romantic song abt them

Whether it be abt the first time they met, how appreciated she felt in their relationship, etc

I’m thinking of some songs like Yes to Heaven by Lana Del Rey (it’s giving a lot of ‘love at first sight’ feeling) or maybe Young and Beautiful by Lana, Can’t help falling in love, Always remember us this way, etc

I won't name any specific songs, but sure! Here you go!

Sparda boys + V x Songwriter!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-When you first met Dante, you were head over heels in love, naturally.

-In your love-crazed haze, you wrote a somewhat cheesy love song detailing how you felt in that precise moment when you interacted for the first time.

-Dante wasn't expecting anyone to write him a love song, but he was interested in hearing it nevertheless.

-He enjoyed it, and thought you were very sweet for putting in the effort to create a song about your relationship. Of course, he's gonna take it and make it into rock, then bust a move to it later, preferably right in front of all your friends to embarrass you.

■ Vergil ■

-Your first meeting with Vergil left you so shaken and fluttery on the inside, you just had to put these feelings on paper.

-You spent an insane amount of time revising and rereading your song before you deemed it ready for public reveal. By that point, you guys were already in a relationship.

-Despite this, you were sweating buckets during your performance, but Vergil didn't seem to notice. He was rather absorbed in your song, contemplating why someone would do something so heartfelt and endearing.

-You then awkwardly embraced each other with little fuzzies in your chests. Vergil was very touched, and you felt great after finally releasing your song.

□ Nero □

-Nero was so rebellious and cool, it would be tragic to not write a song about him.

-You set to work, excitedly composing, and after a week or so of toiling away, decided to present it to him.

-Nero was pleasantly surprised and was very touched by this gesture. It was a great honor to have a song written about him by someone he loved, so he showed his appreciation through kisses.

-You were absolutely smothered with smooches that night. If you write another song, maybe he'll do it again.

● V ●

-V was a very important inspirational figure in your life; you could not think of a better way to honor him than to write him a song.

-And so you did, very excitedly begging him to sit in your living room so you could play it for him once you were done.

-He enjoyed your beautiful serenade and felt a surge of pride upon realizing you'd written that song for him and only him.

-In return, he decided to write a lengthy, romantic poem dedicated to you.

[dasmuggler]

Hair today..gone tomorrow..this is an actual review and yeap it still reduces me to tears..of laughter...

Now I challenge those Fact to checkers..to test this out before adding their "Facts"...

And yes I have tears rolling! 😂 as I am posting this...

As I am listening to Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...

THIS IS AN ACTUAL CUSTOMER REVIEW FROM A MAN ON AMAZON.CO.UK

AFTER USING VEET HAIR REMOVAL CREAM FOR MEN.

After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly Rastafarian I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly successful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits.

Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the missus's birthday as a bit if a treat.

I ordered it well in advance and working in the North Sea I considered myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews and wrote them off as soft office types...Oh my fellow sufferers how wrong I was.

I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen. I didn' have long to wait.

At first there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head.

Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the the destruction of the meat and two veg.

Struggling not to bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel off in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen, by this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief.

I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, toe the lid off and positioned it under me.

The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing returned. Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn'nt managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the draw for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon.

I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them and an tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse.

This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found its way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running its engines behind me.

This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain.

The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before. Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while muttering arhhh ooooohhh that feels good ahhh Understandably this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn'nt heard her come in it caused an involuntary spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction.

I can understand that having a sprout fired against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasent the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn't improve my status so to sum it up, VEET removes hair, dignity and self-respect.

[apaintedfoxx]

Day 4- Couch

--

read on ao3 here

--

She should’ve headed the ominous warning the dark, dense clouds tried to give her as she stepped out the door. A quick walk, she had told herself, she could beat the rain. The sky had laughed at her challenge, and about halfway through her usual route, the downpour began. Fat rain drops fell in an unrelenting torrent, cold and menacing and threatening to take every last bit of warmth from her body. Her clothes were soaked through after just minutes, the hood of her jacket a mockery of a covering.

Lena quickly runs through her route in her head; there should be a shortcut up ahead somewhere she could take if she made a turn at the café she liked to frequent with Kara…

With a decision made, she ducked her head, pulled her soaking hood tighter over her head, and trekked onward. As promised, the café soon came into sight. Lena turned into the alley that would take her back to the apartment building. She only made it a few sopping steps before she heard it.

There was a pitiful mewling coming from somewhere in the alley.

Loathe to leave any creature out suffering in this monsoon-like weather, she stopped in her tracks, trying desperately to locate the sound above the sounds of rain in the city. It was a miracle she had heard it in the first place, and of course it had stopped as soon as she noticed. The alley itself only added to the problem. It was wide, enough to fit two cars side by side, and consequently filled with stuff. A couple of dumpsters stood sentry outside back doors of businesses, while litter and trash lined both sides of the makeshift street. An abandoned couch sat further down, obviously dumped with little regard. The sound could be coming from anywhere.

“Come on little guy, where are you?” Lena muttered, as if it could hear her. By some miracle, the mewling began again almost in response to her prompting. She followed it as well as she could; it brought her to the broken couch, which looked more dilapidated the closer she got. The fabric, like everything else around, was soaked through, so the original color was hard to determine. Combined with the many stains covering its surface, the best Lena could tell was that it used to be a brown couch. There were tears in the cushions, and obvious wear in the places that were sat in the most. The sound she was searching for had gotten louder, but Lena was not looking forward to touching any of it. She decided to check the most obvious, and least repulsive, option first. She lowered herself to a crouch, ignoring the collection of water on the asphalt, given how wet she already was, and leaned over, peaking underneath the worn piece of furniture.

A tiny pair of eyes shone back at her, and she could just make out the silhouette of a small kitten.

Lena knew in an instant she was not going to be leaving it there a moment longer. It had stopped making noise as it spotted her, peering at her with an unmistakable look of curiosity. She contemplated her next move. She didn’t have anything on her that she could use to tempt the kitten out from her hiding spot, but reaching for it might scare it even further underneath.

As she considered her options, the kitten continued to observe her. It took a tentative step forward, and Lena held her breath, not wanting to scare it into retreat. It squeaked at her as it inched forward, it was getting closer and closer, almost enough for pick up.

“You can do it, little one,” she murmured encouragingly, ever so slowly extended a hand out. She made no move to grab it yet, instead resting it a few inches from the edge of the couch. She gave her fingers an experimental wiggle, hoping to entice the kitten. It froze, and Lena began to panic, she had no idea how long it had been out here by itself, and knew it needed care immediately. Before she had too much time to worry, however, the kitten gave another squeak and pounced on her hand. She quickly, and carefully, got ahold of it with her other hand and stood.

“There we go,” Lena said, finally able to get a better look at the small creature now cradled safely in her hands. Though she knew next to nothing about animals, this kitten was obviously still very young. It’s mottled black and ginger fur was plastered to it’s shivering body, and it stared up at her with mismatching eyes, one blue and one green.

Though her jacket was far from dry, Lena didn’t want the kitten directly in the rain, so she carefully cradled it close to her body, hoping some of her own natural heat would help warm it a little, and covered it with one side of her jacket. She spent another few minutes looking around to make sure the kitten had been alone, but the mewling had stopped as the kitten settled against her. After deciding it had well and truly been alone, Lena quicky made her way back to the warm, dry safety of her apartment.

---

The next few days were a kitten-focused blur. Lena had taken it to a vet as soon as she had gotten them both dry and warm. She’d learned the kitten was just barely seven weeks old, that she was female, and that besides from a bit of dehydration, she was perfectly healthy.

The problem now was figuring out what to do with her. Lena had told Kara and the others about the kitten the morning after she had found her, which resulted in a bombardment of pleas for Lena to keep her. But she couldn’t keep a kitten. Her apartment wasn’t at all prepared for a pet of any kind, and with how much time Lena spent at work, it hardly looked like she herself lived there. Sure, it was functional as far as somewhere to live was, but the décor was sparse; Kara called it empty, Lena preferred minimalistic. That, however, was rapidly changing. After initially getting used to Lena and the new space, the kitten had taken ownership of the admittedly spacious penthouse suite. It ran from room to room, the thud of little paws could be heard almost constantly during the day, and especially the middle of the night. Wishing to save her expensive furniture from the fate of sharp kitten claws, Lena quickly invested in some toys for her to play with, just until she figured out a home for the little one, she sternly told herself and any teasing friends.

Having to eventually return to work resulted in Lena bringing the rambunctious kitten with her. Being her own boss did have some perks, after all, and she didn’t trust the little monster enough to leave her unattended in her apartment. Watching the kitten explore the new environment was admittedly adorable, and when Kara visited for lunch, she spent the entire time curled up in the other woman’s lap, watching her with rapt attention. Kara threw out some not so subtle name suggestions.

Gradually, the kitten became something more permanent. Lena got more toys for her to play with, and some proper items for kitten care, including soft food and a litter box. Lena’s strictly neat, magazine cover worthy apartment became something a little more lived in. On a day Lena wasn’t able to take the kitten to work, she reluctantly left her at the apartment with plenty of food and toys in her vicinity. Upon return, Lena was surprised to see the apartment still standing, and the kitten fast asleep underneath Lena’s couch, her little black paws a stark contrast to the white fabric of the couch. It had become a favorite nap spot of hers, unsurprisingly.

After that, she wasn’t as nervous about leaving the kitten alone. In fact, without realizing it, she gave Lena a reason to come home at night. Late nights at the office were no longer an option to a kitten that had a seemingly endless appetite and energy level, and with the apartment not being so startingly empty anymore, she found herself enjoying spending time within its walls. Even her friends began to notice, teasingly pointing out how messy the space had become when they came over.

It was game night when it all clicked for Lena.

Her friends had a long-standing tradition of game night, everyone took turns hosting, and tonight was Lena’s turn. She had tried to clean up after the kitten the best she could, but the little creature had had other ideas, and shortly after everyone had arrived, she proceeded to throw all of her toys around and climb into everyone’s laps.

It was many hours later, however, and the fun had wound down for the night. Most everyone had left, and Kara had stayed behind as usual to help clean up the games and leftover snacks. They now sat comfortably on Lena’s couch, each with a glass of wine in hand, a late night tv show playing quietly in the background. The kitten was, to no one’s surprise, curled up happily in Kara’s lap, purring contently.

“She likes you,” Lena said softly, watching the sleeping kitten. Kara only gave a hum in response, gently running her fingers through the kitten’s soft fur.

Several minutes passed in this comfortable silence, before Kara spoke up. “She still doesn’t have a name,” she said.

Lena lifted her gaze from the kitten to find Kara’s eyes on her, watching her curiously.

“I haven’t found anything that really fit,” Lena admitted, giving a slight shrug of her shoulder.

Kara smiled. “She’s good for you.”

Lena didn’t ask for an explanation, nor did she need one. It was obvious, though surprising. She would never have considered herself a good candidate for owning a pet, considering how demanding her job was.

“I love how much energy she has. How rambunctious and curious she is. I found her starving under a broken couch, and yet she hasn’t let any of that affect her,” Lena admitted, taking a sip of her wine. She had clearly already had too much of the stuff, if she was getting this introspective already.

Kara only smiled in response, and as silence fell once again, Lena contemplated her words. A smile broke across her face, and she looked at her closest friend. “I know the perfect name for her.”

“And what’s that?” Kara asked with a sweet smile of her own.

“Hope. Her name is Hope.” 

[levi-akerman248]

Levi x male reader HC

Levi trying to hint at his oblivious male s/o

This kind of switches from first to third pov a bit, sorry

When you first got with Levi, sex was not something that occurred often. Even now after years of being together, it’s not too common

Usually you have sex after a expeditions, when you’ve both seen a lot of death and need to be as close as possible to reassure that you’re both still there. Or on your anniversary or when one or both of you have been super stressed

So when one random evening, Levi came to you and asked to have sex you were confused

“I need you.”

You looked up from the paper you were reading and raised an eyebrow

“For what? Did something happen?”

Levi was absentmindedly fidgeting with his cravat

“Not like that brat, mean I….like need you.”

You were still confused, what did he need you for? Did he need you for a meeting? To supervise his cadets? What?

“What do you mean”

Levi groaned, “are you- oh my fuck you are so fucking dense brat”

“How am I-“

You were cut off when Levi came around your desk and pushed your chair so he could kneel by your feet.

He knelt down and pulled your chair close, his mouth inches from your clothed cock

“Wha- what are you-“

Levi glared up at you,

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Y/n gulped and blush covered his cheeks

‘Cute.’ Levi thought as he started pulling off your lower straps and pants

Levi had randomly gotten turned on while working, he let his mind wonder for two seconds and it betrayed him

He was annoyed but mostly embarrassed that he got hard so easy, like a fucking sex crazed teenager

Once his brain sent him an image of his lovers cock, he couldn’t think anymore

Now here he was, 30 minutes before a meeting and pulling out y/n’s thick cock so he could have a taste

Y/n let out a moan and weaved his finger through Levi’s hair, gripping it tightly

The feeling of Levi’s warm, wet mouth around your cock. How innocent he looked on his knees in front of you, how skillfully he wrapped his tongue around your tip

It was heaven, you couldn’t think of anywhere better on earth then right here

You used your grip in Levi’s hair to move him up and down on your cock, loving how he moaned, looking up at you with tears pricking his eyes

You forced your cock up and down his throat for a few minutes before you released your load into his mouth

You watched with hazed eyes as he swallows it all before licking your cock clean

He gets up and wipes his mouth before looking at you with his natural blank face, but you could see desire and a bit of smugness in his eyes

“Thanks for the treat.”

He turned and walked away, leaving you dazed in your chair

————————-

At the meeting, Erwin spoke out to Levi

“What’s that on your shirt?”

Levi looked down and saw that some of your release had somehow managed to drip on his chest

He grumbled, ‘God damn it, that’s gonna be a bitch to get out’

Sorry, I kinda wrote this randomly without checking for spelling and such😅

[valdarian]

Invader Zim- Infinite Pink: Prologue (1)

WARNING/DISCLAIMER: This fic is intended for a mature audience and will be covering some traumatic topics that could be triggering. Please be advised! 

Read with caution! 

-Major Character death is temporary and only used in prologue.

-This fic is likely to make some uncomfortable or potentially be triggering. -It is intended for mature audiences, as it will be exploring dark and mature themes and situations. Such as violence, implied/attempted sexual assault and abuse. Non-con/dub-con warnings apply. I will try not to go into too much graphical details, however be warned it will be implied or referenced. -The events in this story are entirely fictional and merely done for dramatic effect. However, they are not intended to poke fun or downplay the real-life seriousness of these issues in anyway.

-I always try to include additional warnings in my author notes before each chapter.

WARNINGS OVER.

Stay safe!

===============================

SUMMARY: Zim’s trial was a victory for Irken society, their biggest thorn finally defeated for good. Zim’s soul reflects on his life and actions from the great beyond. 

When a second chance presents itself; Will he achieve his happy ending or wind up like he did before? Fighting against impossible odds, unraveling mysteries and discovering what lies beneath. Secrets will be revealed. What truth awaits?

===============================

NOTES: 

-Prazr is supposed to be slow burn endgame pairing.

-No Dib/mission to invade Earth (I don’t plan on exploring it) in this fic, besides small past references. 

-Instead it will be focused more on Irk and her history/society. Like Zim’s Academy/elite days.

-It’s been years since I’ve wrote a proper story, so please don’t mind the writing if it’s a bit weird in some places. I’ve had this plot stuck in my head for about a year. Inspired by my obsessed with Isekai/reincarnation/do-over manga and fics.

-If others want to use this as a base for their own story or art, that’s fine. Just tag me, I’d love to see what you do!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(The Abyss: Undetermined time after The Trial)

Zim floated endlessly in darkness, surrounded only by a feeling of a bygone age.

His body, the only thing visible as far as the eye could see. Was as bare as the day he was born, not even a PAK attached. 

Any Irken caught like this would be ridiculed for such degeneracy. Yet, he could not muster much shame. Only hugging his knees tighter to his chest.

He had nothing to show the passage of time. Only a half remembered feeling of what it was to be alive. Left alone in the Abyss with only his own thoughts and distant memories as company.

How long had he been here? Minutes, cycles...Eons?

Was this what death truly felt like? All alone and tormented by his life on replay.

Forever wondering what had went wrong.

He had been angry at first. Enraged at the thoughts of his trial and execution.

How dare they do this to him, to ZIM! He hadn't done anything to deserve this!

The pain of PAK removal was one of the few things still fresh in his mind.

He had cursed the hoomans and their filthy planet, the dib-beast for always interfering in his plans. As well as a long list of others for his fate. Just about anyone and everyone he could remember. No matter how insignificant they had played a role in his life.

His rage had burned without an end in sight. Who had he angered to endure such disgrace! Who did they think they were to put him through such humiliation? 

The names had slipped past his lips before he could stop them.

The Almighty Tallest.

His tirade had halted immediately. Appalled at his renegade of a mouth.

What traitorous thoughts! 

The propaganda and teachings of the Empire still deeply ingrained within his mind.

Yet, the more he had thought about them, the more his rage started to burn again. Turning into a blaze of discontent and resentment.

The Tallest had used him!

They were no more innocent then he!

Just as the Empire had designed them to. Zim had only been doing what any Irken soldier would've done...right? They were taught to love destruction and mayhem. How could he ever be the one in the wrong? Was not that, the purpose the Control Brains gave them?

He was only doing his duty.

What right did they have to punish him then!

Was not it the Tallest who had forced him to pilot during Operation Impending Doom? 

They hadn’t even asked what had caused the disaster. Why he had done what he did. Not that he could’ve answered them. Even now, that time is nothing but a distant haze at best. 

Still, they had never tried to find out what had went wrong. Only sending him to suffer on Foodcourtia under the sadistic Sizz-Lorr.

Did they like seeing him in pain? Did they enjoy seeing him unable to fight against them, even when they continued to ridicule him. Pushing him ever closer to his breaking point?

Like when they had sent him to that treacherous death-world known as Urth.

No! His body had shook in anger.

No, no. 

The truth was that they had sent him into the deep recess of space, hoping he would die.

He had turned a blind eye to all their misdeeds against him. 

For so long...too long, he realizes now. 

Letting his feelings blind him.  Everything had just felt so...so right with them. He had clung to a smeethood friendship. To long buried feelings that he swore they shared, but could not speak of. 

Had he really been that delusional?

They had been friends once, close ones. It had been an instant connection. One he thought would last the test of time. Since their days in the Academy, they had spent practically every waking moment by each other’s sides. Years spent studying, training and completing assignments together. Even graduated as elites with one another.  

He had cared about them, more than he could ever put into words. He had thought they had cared about him too.

Maybe they had one point...Until their love of status won out.

Zim had always known about their dreams of grandeur. But, had ignored it. Convincing himself, that no matter what, they would never abandon him. That they still cared for him...even if only a little.

Yet, time and time again he was proven wrong. 

Unwilling to accept the truth. His own delusions gladly filling in the blanks. They were ultimately the same as him, obviously. Only doing what the Empire wanted. What the Control Brains wanted. 

This was all an...act...There was no way they actually hated him. It was...a test! A test of his faith, of his will...of his love. No matter what, he couldn’t fail. He needed to prove himself to them. Maybe then...

What a pitiful creature he had been.

So much so, he had even done something as primitive as pray to the ancient Gods. Hoping that one day...

He really was delusional. The crazed mess everyone believed him to be.

After all, what Irken in their right mind, would ever want to be seen with such a tiny smaller? 

Yet, in the end he had still loved them. Even now his cardiac-spooch aches for them.

They had hurt him, but he had hurt them too.  He hates them, he loves them, he hates them, he loves them...

He doesn’t know what to think about them anymore.

After some time, his anger had eventually moved on. 

To the only ones left.

The Control Brains.

The machines who claimed to control everything. If they were truly such omnipotent beings, then surely they had to have known his PAK was defective! They dictated everything about Irken lives after all, from what they wore, to their careers and everything in-between. 

Then why was only he to blame!

Were not they the ones that programed him this way!

If he had been such a threat to the empire, if his PAK had so many errors, then why didn't they fix it!

Why had he been the only one to be punished!

If he was so broken, then why couldn't they have just fixed him!

…and just like that, the flames had been snuffed out. He had been quiet for a few minutes...hours...or maybe even days. Dwelling only on that single thought alone.

A sob had left him as the realization came crashing down.

Only then had he finally blame himself. A deep well of shame had quickly bubbling within him.

Over two hundred cycles, years devoted to serving the Armada. Bowing to the strict rules of the Empire and whims of his Tallest. Placing his loyalty to Irk above all else. Rejecting his natural inclinations. Forever trying to hid his perceived weaknesses.

It all amounted to what exactly?

He was defective. A mistake. A problem to be remedied and swept under a rug to be forgotten.

He was only capable of needlessly destroying everything in his path, even himself.

Forever trying to be something he wasn't.

While Silently pleading, hoping beyond hope someone would give him the attention...the love that he so desired. His peers would recognize him and appreciate him.

Irk was sure to celebrate his death for cycles to come.

It's not that he hadn't tried to control his urges. He had tried, he really did. To be the perfect soldier, to be the prime Irken example.

But, at his core, that not who he was. Despite how much he had tried to make himself to be so.

Luck was as much his friend as it was his enemy.

In a society were one was not to step out of line, not to break any mold, to do only what they were told. Someone like him, could only double down. Hoping that maybe this time something would go right. If only he kept trying it wouldn't be considered failure. Something would have to work eventually, right? He hadn't been kicked out of the collective yet. So that meant there was still hope.

What a fool he had been. 

Chaos incarnate many called him. The name Zim was synonymous with destruction and failure. He had no glory, no honor. He was nothing but a devil to his own people, an omen of their death.

By the Gods, if he could just go back! 

His hands clench at the thought.

Would things be different? Could he make different choices. 

Even if his loyalty came into question? If he walked a different road then that of the perfect little Irken. 

Would he even be capable of such a thing?

He doesn’t know.

If only he had tried a little hard to control himself. If he could just be given another chance to prove himself. If to no one else, but to him. If he could just have a chance to live life how he truly wanted.

If only he could start over. If only...

A humorless laugh leaves him. Who would even give him the time of day? To him of all Irken?

As if.

His Empire had denounced him. His people had forsaken him. He had nothing left.

Magenta eyes stare blankly into the expansive darkness. They close as he  buries his face into his knees, lamenting his fate.

Truly this couldn't have been a more fitting punishment for someone as despicable as him.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Cover Art: https://valdarian.tumblr.com/post/643477875611271168/cover-art-for-my-invader-zim-fanfic-infinite

OC ART:https://valdarian.tumblr.com/post/643603226310148096/just-a-few-of-my-oc-that-appear-in-infinite-pink

MAP of IRK: https://valdarian.tumblr.com/post/644055524128735232/guess-who-found-a-world-map-maker-its

Next chapter:

https://valdarian.tumblr.com/post/640238150925598720/invader-zim-infinite-pink-ch1

[wanderin-the-hwy]

 warning from across the pond...

Reviewed in the United States on July 3, 2012

After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly rastafarian I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly succesful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits. Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the missus's birthday as a bit of a treat.

I ordered it well in advance and working in the North sea I considerd myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews and wrote them off as soft office types...oh my fellow sufferers how wrong I was. I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen.

I didn't have long to wait. At first there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head. Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the destruction of the meat and two veg. Struggling to not bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel of in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen by this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief. I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid of and positioned it under me.

The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing soon returned .Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn't managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the drawer for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon.I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so.I took a handful of them and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse. This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found it's way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running it's engines behind me. This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain.

The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before. unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while muttering..." Ooooh that feels good ". Understandably this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn't heard her come in it caused an involutary spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction. I can understand that having a sprout farted against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn't the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn't improve my status...So to sum it up Veet removes hair, dignity and self respect...:)

16,230 people found this helpful

Helpful

A friend just sent me this. I couldn't stop laughing! ~hws~

[anonymous0writer]

Not So Sneaky

Author: @anonymous0writer​

Requested: Yes!

“sarah x reader where sarah sneaks out to see the reader & the pogues catch them on a date?“

Warnings: Swearing, drinking.. drugs

Soft Rafe! (for like two seconds)

A/N: I love Sarah! And I’m currently re watching the show, and I gotta ask why she’s always looks so pretty in every scene? I wrote this as a girl x girl relationship, but it’s Y/N, so it’s basically anyone person you want it to be. :) Also, go easy on me, I’ve never been in a girl x girl relationship, so I try to write to the best of my ability. :)

Sarah pressed her ear to the door, straining to hear any type of human activity on the other side. But only the soft murmur of the AC met her ear. Deciding she was okay, the blonde pressed her thumb to her phone screen- sending the text. 

I’ll be there soon!

The soft whoosh of the text going through was the only sound in Sarah’s big room as she tiptoed to her window. Her fingers dug into paint of her window, prying it open. Warm air rushed into the room as the AC’d room met the North Carolina night. It was summer in the OBX, which meant it was hot, so Sarah left with only her phone tucked in her back pocket. 

She climbed onto the room, and crawled to the edge, swallowing her slight fear of heights as she jumped. Landing on her feet, partially crushing the bush below her window, Sarah raced to meet you. 

It’d been a while since you two had gone on a date. And by date, it meant a night alone, staring at the stars without anything pressing in the back of your minds. And Sarah craved those nights with you, wrapped in each other’s arms while talking quietly about the stars glittering in sky. 

She sneaks to her car which she parked farther down the road earlier today. Sarah grips the wheel and speeds off to meet you at your regular dock, excitement practically bursting out of her as she grins. She can’t wait.

~

Your head whipped up as you heard gravel crunch and Sarah’s familiar car pulled right next to yours. You jumped up, racing from the dock to meet your girlfriend. 

As soon as Sarah landed on the ground, you pulled her into a hug. Soon enough, Sarah plants a kiss to yours lip. 

“Hey,” She giggles. 

“Hi.” 

You two pull away and move down the dock, listening the calls of birds and the silent pulls of the water around you. You two sit on the blanket you laid out and immediately go into your normal positions. Sarah’s arms around you as your head leans against her chest, both your staring at the stars.

You snuggle closer to Sarah’s warmth and she giggles, fingers brushing lightly through your hair. You close your eyes briefly at the feeling, but open them so you can gaze at the blanket of night above you. You grin. “Tell me about the stars.”

She starts out like she always does, soft voice talking about the North Star and branching out, touching on every star, you repeating her words in your head because you’ve memorized them. As she starts to talk about the next star on her list, you gently pause her. 

“I’ve been working on something for you.” 

“Oh?” Sarah asks, dark eyes bright, a smile tugging the edges of her plump lips up. You nod, biting back your grin of excitement. You’ve been memorizing Sarah’s words for a couple weeks, trying to get it down to her exact pauses and her grins in the words. 

“Alright. So that..” You say, the words tumbling out of your throat somewhat naturally as you point to the stars and tell Sarah the story she’s been telling you for weeks. 

As Sarah realizes what your doing, she gasps and then giggles in delight. She grabs your face, pulling you toward her, pressing a sugary kiss to your mouth. You kiss her back, but break away, too eager to show Sarah you memorized the whole thing. Sarah rearranges you two, so you are holding her tight as her eyes close and she listens to your calm heartbeat and your soothing voice. 

You keep going, enjoying the story coming from your lips this time. You admire the stars, enveloped in warmth and love from the girl in your arms. You kiss her hair and brush through it as you talk. 

After the stars mantra ends, Sarah rewards you with kisses that turn breathless and “I love you’s” blurring into other praises and compliments. You two roll around, lips connecting as you cup her face and her hands are in your hair. 

Breathless, you pull away for a second, heart tapping wildly at your rib cage. Your girlfriend smirks, her own lips swollen and her hair messy from your fingers. You smile lightly. 

“Tell me about your day.” 

This time both of you are on your sides, hands cradling your heads as you stare at each other. You watch her dark eyes and admire her flawless beauty as she obeys your request. You watch as her lips tug up at a funny thing Wheezie said this morning, or how Rafe finally agreed to teach her how to golf. Her eyes grow heavy, tiredness slowing her words just a bit as her eyelashes skim her cheek.

Once she’s done, and your comments cease, Sarah yawns, but questions you about the food and beverages. You comply, bringing out the cooler you always bring. It’s filled with snacks. Cheese-its, crackers, chips. Fruit, water. And what Sarah was wanting- alcohol. 

Your girlfriend opens the beer and hands you yours as she peppers you with questions about your day. This is what your dates consist of. First, you always cuddle and Sarah gives her mantra about the stars. And then you eat, and ask about each others day. And after that, you two allow the conversation to follow easily, jumping fast from topic to topic. The drinks flow easier too, the alcohol warming your bellies as you giggle madly at stupid things. When you two get drunk together, you always laugh. Laugh so hard at stupid, small things that happened a couple weeks ago. You two get loud and silly crazy when drunk. But you guys loved each other more for it. 

“Let’s go skinny dipping!” Sarah squeals suddenly, eyes lighting up.

You giggle, already peeling you shirt off in a drunk agreement. Your shirt and bra drops to the wood of the dock, and your already standing, wiggling your hips wildly to get your shorts off. Both of you are quick to rid your bodies of the confining clothes. And in a second you are jumping into the water. The water is cool, a stark contrast against the hot night and slightly sweaty skin. You two gasp, pushing your wet hair out of your eyes and laugh at your predicament. You two swim around, and splash water at each other, laughing loudly. 

You two are so caught up in the drunk haze of fun, that you don’t notice the HMS Pouge pulling upside the dock your clothes are perched on. 

“Y/N? Sarah?” A voice calls.

Both of you spin frantically around, twisting the the water and sending waves rippling away from your moving bodies. Sarah lets out a crazed giggle as you startle. 

“Kie? I-” 

Everyone’s on the boat. John B. Pope. JJ. Kiara. John B. smirks at you two, eyes wide and suspended in the water. Pope laughs, thinking you two are stupid for swimming this late. JJ smirks, imagining your bodies in the water, thinking it’s a little hot. Kie raises her eyebrows. They just caught you two having a date when you two told them that you couldn’t hang out with them tonight. 

“Hi!” Sarah calls. 

“Hey girls.” JJ grins. 

“JJ, shove off!” Kie rolls her eyes, but turns her attention back to you and your girlfriend, naked in the water. The pogues don’t seem to get the fact that you are naked. “I thought you guys couldn’t hang out with us?”

Sarah swallows next to you. “Uh, yeah. Because we already had plans... with,”

“Each other.” You finish, bobbing lightly in the water to keep a float.

“Yeah, sure.” John B. calls.

They continue to stand there, unaware of your predicament, expect the blonde surfer. He seems to be the only one knowing you aren’t wearing clothes. JJ smirks at you two, waiting to see what you’ll do. 

“You guys gonna come out?” He called, trying to hold back a laugh. 

“Uh,” You sputter. 

“What’s wrong?” Pope asks, eyes searching the water and then the dock. He sees your discarded clothing and laughs. “This is gonna be interesting.” He mutters, loud enough you and Sarah can hear it. 

“Well see, the thing is-” You cut yourself off, embarrassment burning at your cheeks. 

“We don’t have clothes on. We went skinning dipping.” The girl next to you blurts, apologetically. You eye her, and her cheeks are red too, but she’s daring one of the pogues to give you crap. 

“Wow.” John B. nods for a second, and he makes everyone turn around so you two can get dressed. 

You allow Sarah to go ahead of you, and lift your body of the water, water droplets sliding off your body, rivulets of water running across your tan skin. You take a split second to admire your naked girlfriend, but the worry that a certain boy will turn around sneakily, makes you stop. You slip on your underwear and shorts, reaching for your shirt when Sarah yells. 

“JJ! Turn around, you ass!” 

You hear the snicker of the surfer and your cheeks go pink. You put on your shirt and comb your fingers through your hair before you allow the pogues to join you on the dock. 

You settle into a circle, and soon enough beers are in everyone’s hands and JJ’s blunt is being passed around. 

“So, you ditched us to have a date?” Pope asks, the beer in his hands untouched, as it usually is. 

“Yes.” You reply, not sorry that you ditched the pogues for one night alone with your girlfriend. After all, they’re here now, aren’t they?

“Hm.” John B. hums. “And you two are obviously drunk.”

“Just a little.” Sarah giggles, blowing your cover. Obviously you two are because you break into a fit of laughter. Kie snorts and shakes her head. JJ’s zoned out, blunt against his lips, head dipped back. John B.’s nursing his beer, and carrying on a light conversation with the sober Pope. And you and Sarah are laughing, trying to recover enough to talk to your curly haired friend. 

Once you do, JJ speaks, bringing everyone’s attention to him. His eyes on his new blunt as he lights it. “So if you skinny dipping again, invite me, will ya?”

“Fuck off!” You yell as Sarah throws a grape at him and Kie yells, “Shut the hell up.”

The group breaks into laughter as the conversation flows easily, and your brains clouding with the haze of drugs and alcohol. You reach over and squeeze Sarah’s hand, smiling. This date went better than you thought.

[softhairedhotch]

the only thing i've written recently is a 2k fic of james (my oc) and aaron making out age eighteen and i wrote it in a crazed haze after laying in bed for 5 hours listening to the same 25 songs on repeat because i felt super unwell and didn't wanna throw up and like,,,, yeah that just explains me as a person

so like uh,,,, do i post it?

[ooooooooooop225]

A Collection of LOV (BNHA) Drabbles

A/n: I hope that it's fine that I didn't post for a month aah- Sorry sorry I've been drowning in school work and I've had some personal shit going on T^T... Anyways, here are a few drabbles I wrote. I'm sorry if they don't match the characters well, I wrote them without specific people in mind... There are also two extra ones at the end, so perhpas you'll enjoy those too? Anyways, I hope that you're staying hydrated and that you're sleeping well ><~ (Sorry if there are typos ack-)

(753 words)

Tw: general depressive stuff, explicit death

-----

Dabi: Die and cry, and yell into the abyss. I've been doing it for years, day and night, through the laughter of my friends and the mockery of my foes, and yet no one hears me. I hear my languid voice echo through the empty canyons, bouncing off the crumbling walls of my sanity, and through the quiet, I can feel the faint warmth of those who reside above, outside in the blinding light of the magnificent sun.

Overhaul: Listen to my broken heart, I beg of you. The shards rip through my scarred flesh, adding even more crimson streaks to my already marred skin. I laugh at myself, the pained breaths of my mania tearing through the walls under the dim moonlight. I stand up, pull my sleeves down, righten my disheveled state, and I reach into my soul, my very being, and pull out that beautiful shimmering snow-white mask that had become "me". I open the door, blinded by the light of shrill giggles, deafened by the thundering of the hoard, and I leave my room of memories, my mansion of never-ending nightmares. "I'll visit you soon, wait for me, [ ]."

Shigaraki: My mind, a warzone, its surface littered with slashing shrapnel, a dirt-brown field of gleaming silver thorns. The battle that pervades my entire being fills the void with the cries of the damned and the wails of the mourning, yet somehow it remains eerily silent as I lie atop a bed of blissfully sunlit primroses. My ears ring with shrill shrieking and mindless mourning, delicate purple hyacinths in the eyes of the tormented souls. Everything is still for me, but life continues without me, the defiled corpses of the abandoned and the betrayed filling the once-barren wasteland with great streams of blood and tears. I sit down amidst the chaos. I am calm, I am content, and despite that, I cannot be alone. Carnage rises around my insignificant form, a halcyon soaring high above, and I close my dimmed eyes one last time.

Toga: And loneliness. So alone. Through the brightest days and the darkest nights, the cotton candy wisps of dawn and the illuminated haze of twilight, I have always been alone. I am but a dwarf amongst giants, floating lazily through the endless sea of stars and the thick fog of the nothingness, the emptiness peppered with ersatz emotion and fraudulent smiles, the forlorn and futile glances of the gifted. And these souls, bestowed with kindness, gratefully relinquish their own star to the saints, pleading on dirtied knees for brittle matches to light up world not their own.

Twice: Literally two feet away, yet invisible to each other, my barren existence unbeknownst to you. Because no matter how close you are, there will forever be an infinite void between us. I reach out, my feeble fingers pathetically grasping at the frigid cold, absent of the human warmth that I used to know and love, in a crazed attempt to find you. Oceans of obsidian oblivion seep through the cracks of bygone timepieces and misplaced compasses, the brumal nihility intangible and obscure.

+

2 extras (not BNHA):

Mystery character: He'd come back after slaughtering thousands of criminals and look at you with that slight glint in his eye, the one that you have come to know so well. And you'd walk up to him, daintily stepping closer to his marred and towering silhouette. And you'd lift up his hand, holding it gently in your small ones. And golden tears would flow from his black eyes, pooling on the floor in scintillating streams, mixing with your own clear pain.

Mystery character 2: Let’s go to Japan, alright? Go to Japan and stand under the blossoming sakuras, listen to the wind chimes tinkling in the morning breeze, feel the damp humidity of the rainy season, watch the dark night sky as drunken university students yell in the dimly lit alleys, ride the quiet rumbling train, twirl our paper parasols over your shoulders in summer, snack on the onigiri from the convenience store. Let’s go to Japan, go to Japan to live and breathe and die. Die, buried under a white magnolia tree, under the delicate purple hyacinth flowering at its base. The title of the story I just finished reading is “hold me while you wait”, so please, let the dark magnolia branches hold me as I sleep. So that when I wake up, I can see the shining sun, burning me to ashes yet unable to rid itself of my love.

[chilling-seavey]

Anything But Mine (d.s.) - Chapter Thirty-Two

A/N do you have your popcorn ready? 😉

Saturday, August 29th, 2020

Florence was worried about what the new school year would bring. Having Callum back permanently was an absolute blessing, but she was only hoping that school wouldn’t put another strain on their relationship. With school starting in a few days, frats around the university were throwing huge parties to celebrate and their own little group gladly decided to get together to have a little party of their own. They weren’t like their crazed neighbours who had alcohol constantly pumping through their veins but they liked to have fun for a night sometimes.

Clementine and Penelope were supposed to be taken care of by the Clifford’s but their late work schedules kept the children with their mother for a bit later than planned. No one really minded, though, it only meant Florence couldn’t drink until later. Michael and Luke said they would drive over to pick them up on their way home.

Zach paired his phone with the Bluetooth speaker and playing some arguably trash music, but everyone had agreed that he could be in charge of music so they were stuck. Even still, they managed to tune it out, focussing on their drinks and good company.

Of course, Cayleigh was over as well, finding her usual place on Daniel’s lap with a beer in her hand, her low-cut shirt not leaving much to the imagination. Florence had to elbow Zach multiple times to get his eyes off her chest. Corbyn kept a steady round of drinks going, exchanging someone’s empty for a full can every time he saw one. It was amusing to Florence to watch her friends slowly fall under the influence of the alcohol, the four-week-old fast asleep in her arms despite the music and chatter that was filling the room. Clementine was sat with Jack, which wasn’t unusual, and was the smartest choice anyway since he was the best at handling his alcohol. Every time he got a new drink, he got her to ‘cheers’ with him using her sippy cup of apple juice, making her giggle.

As usual, the conversation got turned to Cayleigh and Daniel’s relationship, Aidan saying a casual, “Well, Cayleigh, you’re here so much you basically live here. I’m guessing things are going well between you two then?”

“How can you tell?” Cayleigh squealed, squishing her face against Daniel’s. He laughed lightly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Florence watched them with an expressionless stare, and he caught her eye, his smile faltering before he turned away again. Florence looked down at the baby in her arms, rocking her gently, holding the pacifier to her mouth.

Cayleigh, now being brought into a conversation about herself, continued, “I mean we’re so great and there’s still no action but he’s not a virgin. He told me.” She tisked lightheartedly and bluntly, the alcohol clearly hazing her filter.

“You’re not?” Florence couldn’t stop herself before she asked, furrowing her eyebrows at her once so trusting and now seemingly distant best friend. Daniel looked back at her blankly, refusing to give any hint to her through his facial expression that the proof of that fact was sleeping in her arms at that very moment.

“Apparently not!” Cayleigh shrugged, pausing to take a sip of her drink, “I wanna know who the lucky bitch is but I guess I’ll never know. Dani is a bundle of secrets.” The clueless girlfriend slid her arm around his middle, curling into his side as if they could get any closer.

The room fell into awkward silence except for Zach’s techno music playing in the background. Callum stared at his sister who was back to looking at the baby in her arms, eyebrows furrowed with confusion and the slight hurt that always came to the surface when it came to the distance between her and Daniel.

“Well that girl from the bar and I are still going strong.” Jonah said after a moment. “Thanks for asking, guys.”

“Wait, really? You never talk about her.” Corbyn questioned.

“I guess I’m a bundle of secrets too.” Jonah chuckled.

“I’m still pathetically single!” Zach threw his hands up.

“Join the club.” Jack rolled his eyes.

No one noticed the look that Callum and Aidan shared just as the doorbell rang. Clementine’s eyes went big as Jack pushed her to her feet and got up to get it.

“Is that Mikey, Clem?” Florence giggled as the toddler went running after her best friend. When Michael was in sight, Clementine ran right into his arms, gladly being scooped up. The young mother joined them as well as Aidan, greeting the two men happily. Luke took sleeping Penelope, listing to Florence’s gentle instructions even though he knew exactly how to take care of a baby, slinging the diaper bag over his other arm. With a quick goodbye to her daughters, Florence was handed a cooler and helped Jack and Aidan grab some snacks. The rest of the group in the living room was busy chatting away, the three in the kitchen were on their own.

“How’s my brother treating you, Ai?” Florence asked with a smirk, jumping up to sit on the island.

“Fine.” Aidan blushed, avoiding looking in her direction.

“Do you feel the same rush from high school?”

Jack chuckled, glancing between the two of them as Aidan gave her a little shove over teasingly invasive questions.

He answered regardless, “Well it’s easier without someone beating us up every day.”

Florence’s smile faltered and she took a sip of her drink.

“I mean…I just…Matt left us alone after graduation so it was fine by then…when everything changed with you and Clementine…fuck, I’m sorry.” Aidan ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s okay. I get it. I really do.” Florence shook her head through a humourless laugh. “That asshole is gone anyway.”

Jack laughed at that statement, pushing the newly filled bowl of chips in her direction. She thanked him and took one.

“Anymore news from the doctor?” Jack asked casually. Aidan sent him a discreet glare.

“Nothing after the original meeting.” Florence sighed. “Honestly I think they just messed up. If I don’t hear anything soon I’m just going to call a stalemate. I mean she looks a lot like Emilio. The dark hair, light eyes, her little nose. At this point, I just want some form of a steady boyfriend and between him and Grayson he’s the most likely to not hate my guts.”

“Wait, you’re just going to lie and tell Emilio that Penelope is actually his?” Aidan gaped.

“No! God, no. I’d just be honest and tell him I can’t just be friends.” Florence mumbled, staring at the drink in her hands. “He’s always on my mind all the time and he’s so gorgeous and so sweet and I miss the way things were before the baby.”

“I feel like we’re on an episode of the Bachelorette.” Jack said.

“Welcome to how I feel 24/7.” Florence scoffed.

“I’m glad I’m gay.” Aidan mumbled, making the other two friends laugh.

The Bluetooth speaker beeped mid song to indicate that the batteries were low. Florence hoped off the counter and picked it up. “Do you guys have another speaker? We don’t want it to cut out while we’re listening to Zach’s amazing music choices.”

“Yeah, Daniel has some in his room. Top drawer I think.” Jack said.

“Ok, I’ll be back.” Florence headed for the stairs, cooler in hand.

It had been a while since she had been in Daniel’s room, but it was no different than she remembered it. The same dark blue sheets pulled tight over the neatly made bed, the row of his two guitars and cello lining the opposite wall and his music producing equipment leaving little room on the desk. His well used notebook sat on top of his closed laptop and she couldn’t help but glance at the door before flipping it open. The pages were crinkled and worn, the notebook being well used throughout the last year or two and every line was filled with scribbles and notes. It was Daniel’s most personal and prized position and he kept everything he wrote in complete secrecy so Florence felt a touch of guilt by flipping through it, but she couldn’t help it. Each page was filled with love songs or angsty ballads, some written in perfectly straight lines across the pages and some with many scratched out lyrics and notes in the margins.

Not wanting to take too long away from the group, she closed the notebook without getting whatever answers she so desired and made her way to the dresser. She pulled open the top drawer to find a mess of headphones, microphones, drumsticks, guitar picks, and a few speakers.

Sighing, she shuffled through it to find a Bluetooth speaker, placing a few items on the top of the dresser to clear her view. Her finger hooked on something soft, a vast difference from the constant wood and metal that occupied the drawer, and she pulled the item out from the back of the drawer slowly. The black lace panties made Florence drop them back into the drawer quickly, taking a step backwards. When she got over the initial shock, she slowly picked them back up by her thumb and forefinger, holding them a good distance away from her face as she analyzed them. She would recognise her favourite pair of underwear anywhere; the pair that had gone missing after Corbyn’s birthday celebration. When she got home the next morning, they weren’t on her. Why the hell were her used underwear in Daniel’s bedroom drawer?

Florence could feel her heart racing in her chest as she descended the stairs, the underwear hidden in her fist, and her drink forgotten on the dresser. The whole world felt like it was spinning as she walked ever so slowly into the living room. Her friends greeted her casually and she barely comprehended Jack asking where the speaker was. Florence stopped in front of the couch where Daniel sat with Cayleigh still draped over his lap. The two looked up at her, the room falling into silence except for the music still playing in the background. Daniel’s glance fell to her hand, the black lace peeking out from her white-knuckled grip. The colour drained from his face and he slowly looked back up to her expressionless stare as she spoke darkly, 

“We need to talk.”

[dapper-ships-herself]

First kisses aren't always so sweet

I know I said the next thing I was going to write would be one of those two scenarios I posted about, but then this came to me last night and I wrote it in a fury, so that's where we're at.

A Gilahara (Chuuya and ADA! Gillian) piece.

Warning from some description of violence and blood, if that bothers ya.

---------

Dust stuck to Chuuya’s lungs, the jacket sleeve he held to his face doing little to keep it out. Rubble crumbled beneath his shoes, glass crunching with each step.

“Damn.” He cursed. He didn’t know where anyone else was right now, all he knew was that thing and its handlers had sure done a number on this place.

A colossus, summoned and brought to life by that damn Mary Shelley and her cult of freaks. What a mess.

He heard a cough up ahead, and his head snapped in its direction. A figure could just barely be seen through the haze. Instinctively, his body went into a ready stance, poised to launch himself at the potential enemy. It was only as they drew closer that he realized who it was, and he instantly relaxed.

Gillian, with her fluffy, brown hair matted with dirt, and black smudged along her face and clothes, the cloth also ripped in some places. Despite that, despite their surroundings and the obvious hell she’d just been through, when she saw him at the same moment he registered her, she smiled. “Hey Chu-tan, fancy meeting you here.” Her voice sounded hoarse from the dust in the air, but it still sounded like music to him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His question was rough, but in actuality he was so relieved to see her he felt like he could just run right to her and crush her against himself. His feet stay rooted though, because that relief is mixed in with the absolute terror of realizing she’s here, where that thing is still lurking somewhere.

“Same as you,” She says “I’m trying to fix this.”

He grits his teeth. “No offense, Gillian, but I just watched what it’s capable of; there’s no way you can beat it.” So get away from it.

“I won’t know unless I try. And does that mean you’re gonna stop it? Because you seem to be no better off than I am right now.”

It was true he’d seen better days. His own body was covered practically head to toe in grime, his suit ripped and covered in flecks of blood that had mixed with the dirt to form a gross muck. Still, he stood straight, hopping down from the raised bunch of concrete he’d been on to stride towards her. “What’s your plan, then, huh? How are you going to stop it? Your voice? I doubt even your ability is enough to calm that thing down.”

“Look at what it did to this place; imagine what it’ll do to the city if it’s not taken care of here.”

He stopped mere inches from her, his eyes boring into hers. He saw fear deep within the blue, but it was wrapped in a thick iron determination that didn’t falter even under his hard stare. It wasn’t that he thought she was weak, he knew the strength hidden in her small body, knew the force of nature her voice could be. Thinking about her going against that thing, though; even she… “It’ll crush you.”

“What’s your plan, then? Do you even have one?” She crossed her arms defiantly, her gaze not leaving his once.

His scowl deepened. He had an idea, all right, but it was stupid. He’d been mulling over his options just before she’d shown up. He knew how extreme the situation was, but the consequences just didn’t seem worth it. There was certainly some other way to stop that thing from reaching the city, something that wouldn’t come at such a great cost to himself. That was before he knew she was here. Here, in this place and ready to throw herself in its path if it meant saving even one person. A rumble in the distance reached them.

“My ability,” he started. He saw her expression shift with the change in his voice, confusion blossoming at the flat acceptance it’d taken on, all anger and frustration drained away in a second. He seemed calm. “has another aspect to it. A true form, capable of crushing an opponent in seconds, leaving nothing in my way. All I need to do is let lose all my inhibitions and I will be unstoppable. It’ll be more than enough to stop her Frankenstein.”

“What?” She whispered “If you have something like that, then why…” some realization sparked in her eyes, and they widened slightly. “What does it cost you? Moves like that always cost something. My own scream leaves me emotionless and robotic for hours, what does this true form do to you?”

“It’s called corruption, and that lack of inhibition means that once I activate it I can’t stop it. Corruption will keep fighting even after everything around me is crumbled, and it’ll sap away my strength until it uses me up entirely.”

“No… No, how could you ever use such a dangerous ability if it destroys you? There’s no way- Dazai. You and him used to be partners, didn’t you? His ability would stop yours before it could do permanent damage.”

“That’s right.” He nodded watching her work it out.

“But he’s miles from here! He’s back in the city, we have no way to even contact him if there was a way he could get here in time!” the fear buried in her eyes was starting to leak out, as she realized what Chuuya had already decided. “You can’t.” Her whispered voice broke, and then the panic made it rise again. “If you do that then you’ll-“

His hand came up to grip the back of her head, pulling her towards him at the same time he surged forward. He kissed her, deep and rushed, pouring more words than he could ever say into the action. The open palm of his other hand rested on her back, helping to push her body further into his. He wanted to feel as much of her as he could while he had the chance. He was acutely aware of her own hands wrapping around him to grab at his shoulders, and of the tears he could taste mixing with the flavor of her lips. Who did they belong to?

He made himself pull back, and only allowed himself a moment to rest his forehead against hers, before pulling away. His coat whipped up around him as he turned his back and walked quickly away from her.

“Chu-tan. Chu-tan, wait!” She called behind him. He refused to look, even as he heard her footsteps trying to catch up.

His ability activated around him, and with a single leap he was far above the ground, heading in the direction of the noise the thing made.

“Chuuya!” She screamed, raw and loud. It still sounded like sweet music to him, as it faded into the distance.

------

The earth was shattered beneath him. Cracked and splattered with gore. Pieces of that thing littered the ground, its blood mingling with that of the people who’d controlled it.

He loved it.

Manic giggles peeled from his throat. With each wild swing of his arms, more balls of dark energy flew from his palms and tore apart his surroundings.

This was bliss. Pure carnage, unobstructed chaos, ruin beneath his feet. He threw his head back and full on cackled. Blood flew from his lips into the air.

---

Her feet pounded against the ground, desperate pants sounding from her as she ran.

---

A spray of dust flew into his face. Not that it mattered. Stone cracked and blew away at his touch, and he laughed at it, his wide eyes not really seeing it. All he cared about was destruction, all he saw was red.

---

She stumbled, and her palm was sliced by a sharp chunk of rock. She payed it no attention, not stopping in her race.

---

He threw another black ball, stumbling forward from the momentum, nearly falling over before catching himself. His arms hung limp before him. His laughter didn’t stop, but it was heavy now.

---

She could hear the rumbling so close now, a random crashing that shook the ground and made her steps unsteady.

---

Blood trickled from his eyes like crimson tears. It came from his nose, from his mouth, from his ears, turning his face into a red mess.

---

She could see him. He stood hunched over in the midst of his wreckage, rippling with energy and a crazed look in his eyes. Angry red and black lines covered his skin like great wounds cracking him apart.

Gillian pushed forward, skidding over scattered rock, jumping over the deep fissures marring the ground. He was still so far away.

She couldn’t help it; his name flew from her lips in a desperate cry. “Chuuya!”

His head swiveled to face her. His smile twitched for a moment, before spreading even wider than before. Finally, something new and whole he could break.

He was in front of her in a blur, his bare hands snatching her by the neck in the same second and lifting her from the ground. She gave a strangled cry as her windpipe was crushed.

“Ch-Chuu-ya…” She forced out. He squeezed harder.

She strained to look down at him, into his crazed eyes that watched her struggle with glee. His fingers dug into her throat, bruising the skin.

Still though, still her eyes softened from fear to utter gentleness. “Chu…-tan. I know… you’re still there.”

Her shaking hand came up to rest against his pale cheek. She reached deep within herself, grabbing hold of every bit of power she could muster in that state, and poured it all into her command. “Come back, Chu-tan, please.”

He shuddered, the silvery purple aura coming from Gillian washing over his body. His grip loosened slightly, and her breathing became easier. With more breath, her voice became stronger, and she spoke again. Her voice echoing and ethereal, ringing through the open space.

“I know you can do it, Chu-tan. You are not lost to this power. Do you hear me? Turn off corruption, come back.” Her soothing voice flooded him, clashing against the chaos within him, mixing and roiling. The darkness raged, rearing and spitting and clawing, but the light just embraced it. The marks on his skin started to flake off and drift away in wisps of smoke. He stumbled forward, her feet thumping back to the floor, his grip on her neck a weak squeeze. Her other hand cupped his face as well, her thumbs wiping away the new clear tears cutting a path through the blood.

“Come back to me.” She said. With the grip on her throat gone, her power ripped through the sourness she could feel and made her voice come out strong and sure.

His legs buckled, and he fell forward, taking both of them to the ground. The marks of corruption faded and flew away, his eyes losing their wild energy and falling closed as the exhaustion immediately lulled him to sleep before he’d even finished falling.

Gillian landed on her butt, and caught Chuuya against herself, his head resting against her chest. She gasped for breath, her mouth tasted of iron and her throat was raw and pained from a combination of being choked and forcing so much power out like that. The will of corruption was strong, she could feel the mindless chaos fighting back against her, but there was no way she was going to have submitted to it. Not when it was threatening to take Chuuya.

She looked down at the dirty mop of hair she could see and closed her eyes in relief, a few tears squeezing out. She wrapped her arms around his slumbering form and buried her face against his hair, not caring that he smelled like grime and ruin. “It’s alright now, Chu-tan. We’re both alright.” Despite everything, despite the pain she was in, she smiled, warm and real.

[horseriderdave]

THIS IS AN ACTUAL CUSTOMER REVIEW FROM A MAN ON AMAZON.CO.UK AFTER USING VEET HAIR REMOVAL CREAM FOR MEN. I ACTUALLY HAD TEARS ROLLING DOWN MY FACE WHILE READING IT!!!!!!!!!!!! SOOOO FUNNY!!!:

After having been told by my wife that my danglies looked like an elderly Rastafarian I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this VEET as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly successful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits. Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the missus's birthday as a bit of a treat.

I ordered it well in advance and working in the North Sea I considered myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews and wrote them off as soft office types...

Oh, my fellow sufferers how wrong I was. I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to the bathroom. Initially, all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen. I didn’t have long to wait.

At first, there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head. Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the destruction of the meat and two veg.

Struggling not to bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel off in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen, by this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief. I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid off and positioned it under me. The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing returned. Due to the shape of the ice cream tub, I hadn’t managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the draw for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon. I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse. This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found its way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running its engines behind me.

This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain. The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before.

Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while muttering “ooooh that feels good” Understandably this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn’t heard her come in it caused an involuntary spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction. I can understand that having a sprout fired against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn’t the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream didn't improve my status…so to sum it up, VEET removes hair, dignity, and self-respect! 😂

[allfathertoday]

I legit can't see for the tears! I've never laughed so hard!

THIS IS AN ACTUAL CUSTOMER REVIEW FROM A MAN ON AMAZON.CO.UK

AFTER USING VEET HAIR REMOVAL CREAM FOR MEN.

After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly Rastafarian I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly successful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits.

Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the missus's birthday as a bit if a treat.

I ordered it well in advance and working in the North Sea I considered myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews and wrote them off as soft office types...Oh my fellow sufferers how wrong I was.

I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen. I didn' have long to wait.

At first there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head.

Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the the destruction of the meat and two veg.

Struggling not to bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel off in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen, by this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief.

I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, toe the lid off and positioned it under me.

The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing returned. Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn'nt managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the draw for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon.

I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them and an tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse.

This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found its way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running its engines behind me.

This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain.

The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before. Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while muttering arhhh ooooohhh that feels good ahhh Understandably this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn'nt heard her come in it caused an involuntary spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction.

I can understand that having a sprout fired against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasent the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn't improve my status so to sum it up, VEET removes hair, dignity and self-respect.

[prettyboyswow]

Attention

Request: Thomas Shelby Imagine? Maybe the Reader and him are married and something causes tommy to get jealous? Love your work!!

Author’s Note: Hi. Hello. It’s been a while! Sooooo, my life has been crazy lately, and I haven’t had time to write. BUT, I pushed through and I wrote this in a sleepy haze (so pls forgive me if it sucks lol)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x fem!reader

Warnings: like one/two curse words, jealous!Tommy

You had never been more infuriated with Tommy before. Sure, he had done some terrible things. Things that any sane person would never forgive. But, this was just ridiculous.

It had all started about a month ago as you and Tommy readied yourselves for bed.

 “So, I’ve been thinking of getting a job” your words came out slowly and carefully as you took the pins that held your hair in place out, letting your hair fall over your shoulders.

Tommy’s movements stopped and he turned to face your reflection in the mirror. “And who would look after, Charlie,” his eyebrows rose in questioning and he tossed his suit jacket over the back of the chair sat in the corner. You rolled your eyes and let a small sigh pass your lips.

”Isn’t that why you’ve hired all of the staff?”

Now it was time for Tommy to roll his eyes. “No, not specifically,” he mumbled dryly as he changed into his sleepwear. 

“Well, we will hire someone to watch Charlie while we’re at work. I have an interview on Friday,” you pulled your red, silk robe from your body and hung it in the wardrobe.

“Friday,” Tommy’s hands came to rest on his hips. His brow was furrowed and his lips were puckered. “You’ve got yourself an interview for a fuckin’ job, and you didn’t think to talk to me about it first?”

“I didn’t think it needed to be talked about. We have enough money to get childcare for Charlie. And, honestly, Thomas, I need something for myself,” at this, Tommy’s eyebrows rose, making his forehead creased. “I love Charlie, but I feel like my entire life revolves around this house. I’m either taking care of Charlie, or you, or your brothers. I need something that is mine.”

With that, you pushed yourself under the covers and closed your eyes. Tommy was very persuasive, and he knew it. You were not going to let him talk you out of this, You’re mind was already made up.

Your body jerked at the sound of Tommy slamming the bedroom door. You rolled onto your stomach and groaned into the pillow. You knew he’d react like this, but it still frustrated you. He’d come around eventually.

The interview at the small office job went well. You were immediately hired as a receptionist and you loved every minute of it. While many women found the work tedious and boring, you couldn’t help the smile on your face as you walked into work each morning.  

The women you worked with didn’t seem to care much for you. They had all been working together for a few years, and you were new. But, Nick, your boss, was wonderful. He treated you like you were an old friend and you were grateful for it. You needed someone on your side.

Since you had taken the job, you had barely spent time with Tommy.  He was still angry with you for not speaking to him about your plans. You had apologized and tried to explain yourself countless times, but he wasn’t having it. 

So, most nights you spent alone while Tommy was in his study.  And, when he did finally come to bed, he stayed on his side. You hated fighting with him, but you weren’t going to quit your job because Tommy was being a child.

With Tommy being so cold, it was easy for you to take on more jobs at the office. You had always been a hard worker. When Nick asked you to take on some extra projects or stay late to help him finish paperwork, you happily agreed.

“How are you so good with numbers, (Y/N),” Nick let out a small chuckle as he leaned back in his chair. “I swear, without you, there’s no way I’d be able to get all of this done.”

You grinned and shrugged your shoulders. You loved being recognized for your hard work, and you hoped Nick would put you up for a promotion.

“Dunno. Just always been good with them,” you finished your calculations, penning in the last few numbers on the paper before putting the pen down. “All done, boss.”

You both let out a laugh and Nick shook his head. “Great! Now, go home, get some rest. I will see you Monday.”

He stood and put his coat on, giving you a friendly hug before exiting the quaint office.

You followed suit, putting your coat and hat on. The Birmingham weather was unforgiving this time of year, and you were thankful Thomas had bought you a car so you didn’t have to walk.

Your ride home seemed to take forever. You couldn’t tell if it was because of the cold, or the tiredness you felt taking over you. You couldn’t wait to crawl into your warm, oversized bed.

That wish was crushed the moment you walked through the door.

“Where the fuck have you been,” Tommy’s voice boomed, causing you to drop your purse by your feet.

“God, Thomas, you scared the hell out of me,” you leaned down to grab your purse and hang it on the hook, along with your coat and hat.

“It’s half past one in the morning,” his hair was disheveled and his eyes held a crazed expression. Something you’d never seen before.

“I told you I had to stay late tonight,” you moved to walk past him and up the stairs, but his large, calloused hands caught your elbow.

“Late is an hour or so. Not 1:30 in the morning,” he tilted his head to make eye contact with you. “Who were you with?”

You knew where this was going. “I was with my boss. We were finishing up some work.”

His grip on you tightened then was gone completely. His hands ran through his hair and tugged as he took a step back. “I knew you’d cheat on me when you got a job. I’ve had the boys check up on your little boyfriend. He’s married, you know.”

Before you knew what you were doing, your hand came up to slap Tommy’s cheek. “You’re disgusting, Thomas.”

Standing there in shock, Tommy reached up to rub his reddening cheek. “What? Didn’t think you’d get caught?”

Your eyes welled up with tears and you sucked in a deep breath. “For you to even think that I’d cheat on you, makes me sick.”

“Imagine how I feel, darling,” he finally turned to look at you with a cold glare and you wanted to slap him again.

“You know, Tom, I have forgiven you for so much. I have been there for you through your worst moments,” you took a deep breath and tried your best to blink back tears.

“If I didn’t want to be with you, I wouldn’t cheat on you. I would leave you.”

His eyes softened some and he took a step back to fall into one of the red, cushioned chairs. The fire that crackled in the fireplace illuminated his face, and his cheekbones were even more prominent than usual.

“Why haven’t you then,” he blinked slowly and lent his head against the back of the chair. “You’ve got yourself a job now. You’re making your own money. You could leave whenever you wanted.”

You could feel an imaginary crack split your heart in two. This beautiful, broken man in front of you just needed a little attention. You moved towards the chair he was sprawled out in and stood in between his legs. You reached down to cup his cheek, running your thumb over his cheekbone softly.

“Because, Tommy, despite everything, I’m absolutely in love with you.”

His pink, plump lips twitched upwards slightly. He reached up and put his hands on your hips, rubbing tiny circles into the fabric of your dress.

“You’ve been working late a lot,” his words were quiet and his eyes looked everywhere but your own. “I thought maybe you’d found someone else.”

You used your hand that cupped his cheek to turn his face to look at you. You bent down so that you kneeled on the floor between his legs. “I’ve been working late because I love my job. You should know by now that no one could ever replace you, Tom.”

You leaned forward, bringing your other hand up to rest on his knee. Your lips were almost brushing his own as you spoke, “No one even comes close. You’re my one and only.”

Note: THIS IS SO BAD I’M SORRY !!!!! I really tried hard to make this decent, but I’m so tired lol. Please forgive me, next fic will be better! & like always I love to hear (constructive and/or positive) feedback so don’t be shy :)