#it's part of an allergic response to *this shit*

[llycaons]

ugh I can't believe parks and rec is over 10 years old

[jamiebluewind]

Yall are part of the neurodivergent crew and don't let anybody tell you otherwise!

Here’s to hoping that every single person with schizophrenia or a schizoaffective disorder or DID or NPD or any other ridiculously demonized mental illnesses has a wonderful day

[clockwayswrites]

Birdritch what? Part 7

masterpost

It was warm.

That was the first thing that Danny noticed as he started to wake.

Danny didn’t sleep warm. Too often if it was too warm, Danny would wake up and have to push aside layers of bedding or shed clothing. Cooling sheets, heat wicking pillow, and light pajamas was the way for Danny to sleep best. He felt oddly rested despite the heat.

It was also heavy.

That was the second thing that Danny noticed.

Maybe he fell asleep with the weighted blanket on the couch?

Except that didn’t feel right.

His couch wasn’t that firm. His couch didn’t snore and his weighted blanket didn’t have arms. Yeah, okay, yep. Someone definitely had their arms wrapped around Danny, tucking him close to their very well defined chest and under their chin. Someone else, a much smaller someone, was tucked close to Danny’s elbow and breathing softly.

What the fuck did he get up to last night?

And why couldn’t he remember any of it?

Someone else mumbled something sleepily. That was three at least, four counting him. Maybe five with the soft, breathy snore? Danny stayed as still as possible and tried to mentally retrace his steps.

He had been at work. Right, Lucius had sent him home since it had gotten late. Danny had gotten food and headed home. He must have gone through Ivy’s park, it would have been the closest way…

…and that’s all.

He couldn’t remember anything after that.

There were flashes of fear and burning lungs and that deep-seated need protect, but over all of that there was a sense of belonging. No, belonging was quite the right word. It was less that he had belonged but more like he had found the missing pieces that had belonged to him.

As much as the snatches of feelings were coated with good, Danny couldn’t help the panic that settled in his chest. He didn’t remember. He should remember, being what he was. Why didn’t he remember? Why hadn’t he just gone ghost? Why did his bones ache like he had gone ghost? If he had he should remember.

Fuck, what sort of rogue shit had he gotten dosed with in the park?

The hand on his chest pressed down purposefully.

“Breathe.” The voice was low and rough, heavily with sleep over a deep gravely timber.

Danny wanted to say that he was trying to breathe, thank you very much whoever the fuck you are, but all that came out was a little wheeze of air.

“Okay. Here’s my other hand. One squeeze for yes, two for no.”

A large, calloused hand slipped into Danny’s, twining with his own scarred and bandaged fingers. Danny gave the hand a squeeze.

“Has this happened to you before?”

One squeeze.

“Often?”

Two.

“Is this an allergic response?”

Two quick squeezes.

“Asthma?”

Danny hesitated before giving three squeezes. He could hear other people starting to stir now, but kept his eyes stubbornly closed. He wasn’t ready to actually deal with the people he had fallen asleep with. Besides, it was hard to hear over the beat of his own heart.

“…No, or more, not yet?”

One firm squeeze.

“Panic or anxiety attack then?”

One hesitant, embarrassed squeeze.

“Alright. I am going to sit us up. Lean back against me and follow my breathing.”

Danny tried not to whimper as he was shifted. He failed.

“I’ll get a damp towel,” another voice offered quietly.

Fuck towels, Danny wanted his pain meds. He must have not taken them last night and now everything was stiff and tight. Forget breathing, Danny just wanted to stay curled up in the blanket and not move. Maybe everyone else would leave wherever they were and Danny could just go ghost and slip out of there without dealing with any of this.

“Relax,” the low voice rumbled.

Danny would have cussed them out if he had the voice to.

The board chest that Danny was resting against took an exaggerated breath. Danny struggled to try and follow it. It didn’t seem like he was getting out of breathing, damn it. An ice cold cloth suddenly pressed against his neck, startling Danny enough to suck in a breath of air.

“There, keep that up,” the main voice instructed.

Danny pinched the fingers still closed gently around his in retaliation.

Someone else, more feminine sounding, laughed while the person behind him let out a slightly amused huff. “I know you know. Now your body just needs to know.”

Danny pinched them again, though to their credit they didn’t pull away their hand. Which was… sorta nice. As much as Danny was sulking about it all, the comfort of a hand in his was nice. The calloused thumb rubbed gently over that web of skin between Danny’s thumb and pointer fingers in a pattern that Danny worked to match his breath to. Finally Danny figured he needed to brave opening his eyes.

He wasn’t in a hotel.

Or an apartment.

Or any sort of room.

No, he was in a cave. As suspiciously well furnished cave completely with a grouping of vigilantes watching him curiously.

“Well, at least it wasn’t an orgy,” Danny grumbled.

He heard someone trip further into the cave.

[honeekyuu]

stuck. [tsukishima kei x f!reader]

>>Tsukishima is the kind of best friend that makes you want to leave him, but you just can't bring yourself to.

or

You end up confessing in the middle of a fight and he fucks you to show you how much he really cares.<<

______________________________

tags: smut, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, alcohol/drinking, college au, tsukishima kei is a dick, drunk sex, unprotected sex (dont do that), creampie, dom/sub undertones

a/n: ahahahaha this was my first hq work posted on ao3, and it is everything Mean Best Friend Tsukishima Kei that i needed. i hope you enjoy!

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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

“Okay, I’m done! How do I look?”

“You look like shit.”

You sigh, trying not to let him get to you. 

Tsukki’s always been this way - dismissive, nonchalant, indifferent. Through middle school, he’d been sarcastic. He’d been snarky and brutally honest. And in high school, he’d only gotten worse. 

Anyone else in your position might have left him already. People you’d known in school had told you to find someone else, a better friend. Best friends don’t treat each other the way Tsukishima treats you , they’d said. His teammates had been in the habit of scolding him whenever he’d go too far, whenever he’d push your buttons a little too hard. The only one who could see your side had been Yamaguchi, and even he’d had his reservations at times.

But other people don’t know Tsukishima Kei. They know the Tsukki that would refuse to share his notes with you after you’d been out sick. The Tsukki that would steal parts of your lunch and hold it high above your head, far out of your reach, and call you mean names with a cruel smirk. The Tsukki that would often leave you behind after school and head home without you, leaving you to text him and wonder where he’d gone.

They don’t know that the same person would show up at your house with his notes, walking you through calculus and poetry lessons himself because he knows you learn better with a teacher. And, even though you never called him out for it, he would show up the day you’d been out sick, too, just to check on you. Just to watch movies in bed with you, waving off your concerns about him getting sick. He hated being sick, but he would ignore your complaints and force you to relax - because you’d only ever get sick when you overworked yourself, which meant he hadn’t been watching over you closely enough. 

They don’t know that Tsukki would secretly swap your lunch out for his own - better, homemade food that wasn’t the cafeteria slop you were often forced to buy because your parents weren’t home a lot. He would watch you push the food around on your tray while you’d laugh at something Hinata had said, identifying at least 3 things you were allergic to on that plate. So he would reach for it, leaving his own (allergen-free, thanks to Akiteru) lunch open for retaliation while he’d use his height as a way to take out his frustrations on you - his irritation that you never seemed to put yourself first, choosing starvation over just simply asking your parents for money before they go out of town.

And the times he’d leave you behind - well, half the time, it had been an accident. It was impossible to remember your packed schedule, all your clubs and student council meetings lumping into a vague ‘ Y/n’s busy ’ block of time in his mind. The other half of the time, it was because he needed to be alone. It’s not that he’s an asshole and loves to make you suffer - in fact, he would often call you later the same night, apologizing in his own, special Tsukishima Kei way and explaining himself. He gets overwhelmed easily, overstimulated by too many people, too many responsibilities, too many social expectations. So he would disappear as soon as he was allowed, needing to be alone with himself and no one else.

So, the people in your life had known a different version of Tsukishima than you do. Where they’d seen a bully, cold and unrelenting even for his best friend, you’d known nothing more than an introvert, expressing his care in a way that was unrecognizable to anyone but you.

Care that had carried over into college, the last three years filled with a Tsukishima Kei that even you hadn’t expected. A version of him that walks you from the library to your dorm at night, despite his increasingly hectic volleyball schedule. A Tsukishima who calls you in the morning on his walk to class to make sure you haven’t overslept, because - even if the calls consist of nothing but your crabby morning disposition, berating him for pulling you from your slumber - he knows you’ll thank him later, as you often do.

A Tsukishima who lets you drag him to parties, even though he hates them to his very core. He lets you tug him along to your dorm, lets you force him to sit through the hour-long ordeal of choosing your outfit. Lets you spin in front of him when you’re done, clearly pleased with yourself, and ask him how you look.

Lets you throw a pillow at his face when he tells you that you look like shit, even if he wholeheartedly believes otherwise.

“Tsukki, can’t you say one nice thing to me? For once?”

He scoffs when you put your hands on your hips, turning his gaze back to his phone as he lounges on your bed like it’s his own. It might as well be, with the amount of time he spends in this room.

“That would require you to have something worth being nice about, wouldn’t it?” He smiles mockingly when he catches the irritated twitch of your eyebrow.

“You’re a dick.”

“Nothing new about that.” Tsukishima watches as you turn back to your closet with a huff, taking the time to look you over appreciatively. No , he thinks, his eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts and the way your dress hugs your hips, the material tight but soft. His hand itches with the urge to touch it, to find out for himself. It’s not that you have nothing. It’s that you have too much.

He sighs, sitting up, and runs his fingers through his hair.

You have too much, and it’s fucking annoying. 

His eyes flick to you again, his own irritation growing. You’d always been too good. Too perfect, too overwhelming. He’d hated falling in love. It had sucked. High school had sucked . Having you cling to him every day and finding himself clinging right back. Not understanding these complicated feelings he has - ones that want nothing more than to hold you in his arms, against others that would tell him to push you away with his sharp tongue, to protect himself from this terrifying feeling. 

And now that he’s accepted it - it had only taken him the entirety of high school and at least a year of college - he almost hates it more. Being so close to you and somehow still feeling like he can’t breathe because it’s not nearly close enough.

So he stands, shoving his phone in the pocket of his jeans, and stares you down when you finally turn back to him.

“Can we go? The sooner we get to this stupid thing, the sooner I can go home.” He thinks he sees a flicker of hurt flash across your eyes, but that can’t be it. He’s said worse things before. You always bounce back, a retort on the tip of your tongue for everything he could throw at you. You always match him, blow for blow.

So why, then, can he see your jaw clenching as you turn away from him? Why does he feel like you’re pulling your jacket off the rack with more force than usual? Why are you leaving without responding?

What the fuck ?

-

Fuck Tsukishima Kei . 

It’s the only thought in your mind as you down the shot, wincing as the alcohol slides down your throat. You’d lost count of the drinks you’ve had about an hour ago, when the thought had been something more like ‘ Fuck Tsukishima Kei. Stupid fucking idiot. Never thinks before he speaks ’.

Clearly, you’d mellowed out a little, but the anger is still there, simmering in your chest and threatening to rise every time he gets close to you.

The walk to the frat had been silent, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about your mood, only scrolling through his phone and occasionally glancing over at you. You’d felt the irritation crawling under your skin with every pass of his eyes over you, but you hadn’t returned any of his gazes, only looking forward to getting to the party and being with other people.

But he hadn’t let you wander off so easily, his tall form following close behind as you’d tried to find some of your friends from class. You can tell he’s been trying to silently check on you, like he always does when he knows he’s bothered you. 

He’d brought you drinks, only smiling emptily when you’d glared up at him. It shouldn’t have made your heart skip that he’d done nothing more than offered you a drink, tapping his own red solo cup against yours and matching you shot for shot. It shouldn’t affect you when he does the bare minimum. 

He’d danced close to you, one hand on your waist and his warm chest pressed firmly against your back. You’d hated it - feeling so safe in the arms of someone who had derived pleasure from picking on you your whole lives. And even if that’s not true - even if you only take into account all the ways that he’d taken care of you, celebrating all your accomplishments with you and holding you while you’d cried about your failures - you still shouldn’t be feeling that familiar tug of nerves in your stomach when he presses his hips against your ass, slipping his fingers through yours and pulling you close.

And when that hadn’t worked - when you’d held your ground and managed to cling to your anger from earlier - he’d even tried to talk to you about it. That isn’t normal for him by any means, but you could see the confusion in his eyes when he’d leaned down to be heard over the music, mumbling his question against the shell of your ear.

“Are we okay ?”

It had taken everything in you to resist him, to resist the pull that is Tsukishima Kei. The same pull that had kept you next to him all these years, through all the teasing and the poking. The pull that kept reminding you that he’s just bad at expressing his feelings. He’s just bad at being nice. He’s just bad at holding his tongue.

But that doesn’t mean you have to sit and take it every time.

So you’d only smacked his hand away and glared when he’d cupped the side of your face, trying to get you to look at him. Stomping over to the bar, you had asked the frat boy for a shot of something random. 

After downing it, you try not to look back but fail miserably - you might be pissed, but you’ve never been immune to him. You probably never would be.

Glancing back, you can see his blond head in the sea of people. He’s trying to make his way to the bar, but his head is whipping to the side at the sound of something. A tall guy - you recognize it’s someone from his team - appears at his side, clapping his shoulder, and you can only assume he’d heard his name being called.

They start talking, Tsukki seeming distracted but drunk enough to at least pretend he’s interested in the conversation. You look away just as he’s turning his head back to you - you won’t be caught looking his way again tonight.

Luckily, there’s someone stepping up beside you, catching your attention with their bright smile.

“Y/n?!” 

You blink, startled by the recognition. But when you finally see who it is, you can’t help but beam.

“Oh my God, Bokuto?!” You leap toward him, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and dragging him into a hug. You feel him laugh against you, his arms sliding around your waist and pulling you in tight. When you step away, he keeps you close, hand on your hips.

“What are you doing here?! You don’t go here, do you?” 

The man shakes his head, grinning down at you and pointing over his shoulder.

“Nah, I’m just visiting a few friends over the weekend.”

You glance past him, seeing a group of boys that seem like they could be familiar to you, but you can never tell - Bokuto Koutarou is friends with everyone.

When you look back, you catch his eyes wandering down the length of your body, his gaze snapping up to yours when you clear your throat. He has the decency to look ashamed.

“Sorry, Y/n - You’ve just, uh… grown up a lot since high school.”

You flush deeply, something that makes him grin when he catches it. 

At least someone thinks I look good tonight .

You’re smiling flirtily up at him, feeling confident enough to drag this conversation out. He seems to notice, an interested glimmer in his eye. But then he’s glancing over your shoulder, and his eyebrows are raising in surprise.

A hand wraps around your bicep, much tighter than necessary in your opinion. You barely have time to spot the blond hair in your peripheral vision before you’re being dragged away. You can only wave at Bokuto, who looks a little disappointed but mostly just amused.

Tsukishima only lets you go when you’re outside, his hand dropping from your skin like you’ve burned him. You whip around to face him, more than ready to yell at him on the front lawn of this frat house. But he’s already walking away, in the direction of your dorm.

“Dude, what the hell? You didn’t even say hi to him - he’s one of your closest friends!” You stalk after him, determined to figure out what could possibly be going through his mind. But he won’t answer you, just shaking his head and mumbling something that sounds vaguely like ‘exactly ’ as he makes his way down the street.

You scoff, turning back to the frat. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re just going to follow him home quietly.

You start to head back to the party, but you barely make it five steps before his fingers are closing around your wrist and tugging you back to him. When you look up, enraged at his entitlement, you see that he’s incensed, staring down at you with wild eyes. He looks pissed, which he has no reason to be. But there’s something else there, something that’s contributing to this almost panicked anger sitting just below the surface.

“Tsukishima, what do you want?” 

He bristles at the use of his full name, golden eyes narrowing as he stares down at you.

“You’re going home.” He punctures every word with barely concealed irritation, finally turning and dragging you back down the street. You don’t say anything this time, feeling that previously mellowed out anger returning full force as you stare at the back of his head.

The walk back is just as silent as the walk to the party had been, but this time you feel ready to explode. You’d been annoyed before, bothered and hurt by his words and the way he treats you.

Now you’re just ready to pick a fight. Which means you’ll probably say something you’ll regret if you don’t get away from him soon and take some time to calm the hell down.

When you get to your door, you’ve already got your keys out. He’d let go of you in the elevator, finally realizing that he’d been gripping you way too hard. You might just be able to get inside without him following.

But the second you unlock the door and slip inside, not a word said to the blond as you try to shut the door behind you, his hand is slamming down on the wood. He stops your attempt, staring down at you with annoyance.

“You’re joking, right?” And then he’s pushing into your room with an angry sigh, letting the door swing shut behind him. You only step back, crossing your arms over your chest as you look him over.

“What do you want?”

“What do I wa- What is your problem tonight ?” He squints down at you, eyebrows furrowed. When you only raise yours, his jaw is clenching. “Why the fuck are you so mad at me?”

“Because-” You stop yourself, taking a deep breath in order to maintain some semblance of control. “Because you’re an asshole, Tsukishima-”

“Stop fucking calling me that, Y/n-”

“-and maybe I’m just not in the mood for your shit tonight!” You yell over him, clenching your fists against your body. You need him to go. You cannot let him see you cry.

“I’m always an asshole! How is tonight any different-” He’s taken a step further into the small bedroom, and you take a step back, feeling overwhelmed. You’re immensely glad you don’t have a roommate, so they don’t have to deal with the mess that is your friendship with Tsukki.

“Tonight isn’t any different, you dick. It’s the same as it always is. I’m just tired of it tonight.” You feel yourself growing angrier when he just laughs, throwing you a mocking smile as he paces the room. He’s definitely drunk.

“Oh, excuse me, I didn’t realize I needed to account for Little Miss Y/n’s fucking mood swings whenever I open my mouth-”

“What the fuck did you just sa-”

“I just didn’t take you for someone who’s sensitive-”

“Well, maybe I am, you fucking asshole! ”

You’re definitely drunk, too.

Tsukishima stops short, taking you in. He can’t hide the shock on his face when he sees you - the way your hands are shaking at your sides, the quiver of your lip as you try your best to stand up to him. You’re trying so hard not to cry, he can tell.

Wow, I really am an asshole.

“Y/n… I-”

“Did you really think I would still want to go to that party once you’d made it clear how much you didn’t want to go? That you think it’s stupid to hang out with your best friend on a Friday night doing something she wants to do - because your idea of a good time is so different from mine that you would try make me feel like a fucking idiot for it?” 

Tsukishima’s starting to panic - had he made you feel that way? He’d just been talking. He hadn’t even been thinking about how it would make you feel - he’d thought nothing could hurt you, that your friendship is guaranteed and that having you next to him is a given. 

Now he feels like he’s losing you. 

“Maybe, once in a fucking while , it wouldn’t hurt you too much to tell a girl she’s pretty when she’s just spent an hour trying to look good for you.”

The frustration on Tsukishima’s face drops, and he’s left staring emptily at you. 

That’s what this is about? 

He stares for a while, his eyes just flicking back and forth between yours as he thinks of how to take that. It makes you nervous. You’d said too much. 

“Fuck this.”

You blink, staring up at him in disbelief. What is that supposed to mean?

“What do you- mmh -” 

Tsukishima had crossed the room in just two steps, taking your face in his hands while you’d been preparing to yell at him again. And then he’d smashed his lips to yours.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you let out a noise of shock, muffled against his mouth. Your eyes remain wide open, flitting in a panic over his features as you feel his lips move against yours. His brow is furrowing behind his glasses, and you’re realizing that you still haven’t kissed him back. You push against his lips experimentally, watching that wrinkle between his eyes all but disappear when he feels it, and you think it looks a lot like relief.

He’s nervous.

Your body moves of its own accord, hands sliding up his chest to grip at his shirt, and your eyes slide closed when you feel one of his hands fall to your waist. He nudges you backward, and you feel the hard surface of your closet door against your back.

Tsukishima slides his tongue against your bottom lip, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he feels you inhale sharply in response. He takes advantage of your surprise, pushing past your lips and brushing his tongue against yours. When you slide your hands up and around his neck, tugging at the hair there, he groans and leans down. 

Planting a hand on the door behind you, he angles his head, slotting his lips against yours. He presses his hips into you, and you can feel how hard he’s getting. You sigh into his mouth at the feeling, smiling when his body reacts to the sound, his cock hardening against your thigh. 

Tsukishima Kei might be impossible to read sometimes, but he never could hide from you.

He drops his mouth to your neck, latching onto a spot under your ear and using his other arm to pull you flush against him. The sounds you’re making are clear now, soft gasps and whimpers echoing in your tiny dorm room.

“So stupid… ” 

You barely hear him, too busy wondering why it had taken so long to feel his lips on your skin.

“The only person in the world that can see right through me, and you were stupid enough to believe what I said. ” He mumbles it into your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and sighing when you moan against him.

“You’re so mean…” Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his hand drop to your leg, pulling the fabric of your dress up slightly. He grips at the back of your bare thigh, brushing against your panties and kneading into the plush skin just below your ass.

“What were you gonna do, Y/n, go home with Bokuto?” Tsukishima all but growls the question against your neck, dragging your thigh up and wrapping your leg around his hip. He feels your dress slide up, feels your warmth against his jeans. He’s desperate to get out of them.

“Y-You called me ugly-”

“I never said that.” Yes he had. He knows he had. He just hadn’t realized you would take it to heart. Now he hates himself for even saying it. For pretending you aren’t the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

“Bo said I looked good… Figured I might as well go for someone who’s actually attracted to me…” You whimper when Tsukishima presses his erection against you, your thin panties useless against the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Does it feel like I’m not attracted to you?”

You breathe out a laugh, clinging to his biceps as he sucks another bruise into your skin.

“How was I supposed to know, you dumbass? You only ever say mean things, and I thought I could get over you by-”

“By what?” He’s getting irritated again at the thought of what could have happened tonight if he hadn’t brought you home. If he’d left you alone, like his brain was telling him to. If he’d given you space and just texted you in the morning. 

“You thought you could just fuck some other guy and get over me?” He lifts his head, grinning cruelly when you look up at him, your lip trembling. “Because I didn’t call you pretty tonight? Because you were tired of me being mean all the time?”

You nod, a gasp leaving you when he wraps an arm around your waist and hoists you up so you’re eye-level, slamming you back against the closet door and pinning you there with his hips. Your dress is bunched up around your stomach now, leaving Tsukishima with a perfect view of the wet spot on your panties when he glances down. His grin widens, an evil glint shining behind his glasses.

“But it seems like you like it when I say mean things, Y/n.”

You whine in protest, growing louder when you feel him rut involuntarily against you at the sound.

“This is different, Tsukki-”

“Is it?” He’s distracted when he asks, too busy steadying you in his arms so he can lift you up and away from the closet. Making his way to your bed, he drops you unceremoniously on the mattress, smiling when you yelp. He removes his glasses and leaves them on your bedside table, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed and wrapping his arms around your thighs so he can drag you toward him.

You sit up, taking his face in your hands and pressing your lips urgently to his - even on his knees, he’s tall enough to be eye-level with you. You feel his fingers, long and calloused, drift up your thighs and hook into your panties while he nips almost affectionately at your bottom lip.

“Tsukki… ” You whisper against his mouth, but he’s quick to shake his head, mumbling back to you.

“Not that. ”

You’re a little surprised - you never really call him by his first name. He’d found it uncomfortable the one time you’d tried it as a joke. But if he’s asking, then-

“Kei .” His pulse quickens under your fingertips when you murmur against his lips, his kiss becoming more full, and you realize just how much he likes it.

You pull away and press kisses to his face, peppering them across his nose and cheeks. It’s a moment that’s far softer than either of you had had before, one that has Tsukishima’s heart beating a little too hard in his chest. 

God, he hates being in love.

He pulls away from you, planting one hand on your chest and shoving you away from him. You fall back onto your elbows with a noise of surprise, bouncing lightly on the mattress. Tsukishima only reaches for your panties again, tugging them down and smiling to himself when you lift your hips to help him. 

He throws them somewhere over his shoulder, refusing to break his attention. Planting his hands on each of your knees, he pries your knees open slowly, glancing up at your face for any signs of discomfort. When he finds none, his gaze flicks back down to what’s in front of him.

And then his breath is cutting short at the sight of you lying bare in front of him. You’re glistening, even in this dark room, and his cock is suddenly unbearably hard. 

He’d been thinking about this moment for far longer than he’d ever care to admit. 

“Well, isn’t this just the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen?” 

You throw your head back at his words, moaning loudly. 

“Oh, shut up.” You know Tsukki’s slept with his fair share of girls since you’d started college - being a popular volleyball player has its benefits. You’d done the same, hoping to squash down that jealousy in your own, twisted way. To hear him praising you like this - like you’d always wanted - has you clenching and squirming from the desire coursing through your veins.

“First you get mad because I’m too mean, and now you’re mad because I’m being nice?” He tilts his head, his voice mocking. “You really need to make up your mind.” 

And then, before you can let out some kind of snarky quip, he’s dipping his head and dragging his tongue over your slit in one long stripe. 

You gasp loudly and moan out his name, falling back onto the mattress as your hands fly to his head. You bury your fingers in his hair, tightening your grip when he does it again, licking through your folds before latching onto your clit, pulling the nub gently into his mouth.

He moans loudly against you when you mewl and pull his hair. The vibration on your clit makes you squirm, and you’re involuntarily rutting your hips against his face. He only laughs against you, his breath tickling your skin, and wraps an arm over your hips to hold you steady on the bed.

He pulls his mouth off of you, and you lift your head to look at him in annoyance. He smirks, holding eye contact while he brings his other hand to your folds. When he runs his fingers through them, stopping briefly to circle your clit, you whimper. And when he drops his middle finger to your entrance, nudging gently at it in question, you bite your lip and nod furiously, just wanting him to touch you already-

“Oh my- Kei-” Your head falls back when he slides his finger in and drops his mouth to your clit to suck on it. He sets his pace with his finger, thrusting into you and curling gently up toward himself, repeating the process until he can tell by your squirming hips that you’re starting to feel something.

And then he’s pushing another finger past your entrance, his cock twitching when you moan at the stretch. He’s been painfully hard for a while now, and all he wants is to be inside you of already. He doesn’t realize you’re feeling just as impatient, only noticing when your hands drop to his shoulders, tugging on his shirt.

“Kei …” You pout down at him, your eyelids fluttering when he thrusts his fingers into you again. His fingertips are brushing against a spot you’ve never been able to reach yourself, his fingers much longer than yours. You think you might become addicted to his hands soon. But you only pull again on his shirt with a whine, hoping he’ll get the message. 

Luckily, he does, because he’s pulling away to rip his shirt impatiently off his back, wiping his mouth with it before throwing it to the floor. He unzips his jeans as he makes his way up to the bed, pausing to scoop you up into his arms and tossing you closer to your pillows so he can climb on top of you.

When he pushes his mouth to yours, you’re moaning. He tastes like you, something he’s apparently proud of, because he’s just smiling against you and shoving his tongue past your lips. He drops his mouth to your neck again as he fumbles with his jeans.

“You taste so good, you know that?” He latches onto your skin, sucking harshly. “So much better than I’d imagined.” He pushes his pants just past his thighs, growing impatient. You gasp quietly when his cock brushes against you, the sound changing to a moan when Tsukishima runs it through your folds, sliding against you.

He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes searching yours in a moment of astounding clarity given the insanity of this whole night.

“You sure?”

Your heart jumps when he asks. He’s got the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance, clearly holding himself back. But the way he’s looking at you makes you realize he wants this to be done right - after all, this had started with the two of you fighting. He doesn’t want you to regret this later and be even more upset with him.

He doesn’t want to lose you.

The idea that that’s what been hiding behind Tsukki’s eyes tonight - that vague panic that you couldn’t put your finger on - makes your heart sing and your stomach swoop with butterflies. You can only nod, cupping his face and bringing him down to your lips. His kiss is gentle and full of something that makes your nerves worse, something that makes you feel more than sure.

“I want this more than anything.”

Tsukishima’s heart skips, and he’s swearing softly against your lips. He hovers over you, keeping his mouth on yours as he presses his thumb against the head of his cock, guiding it past your entrance.

You gasp together as he pushes slowly into you, a moan pulled from your throat when he bottoms out and breathes out your name. The fog in your head - a mixture of alcohol, arousal, and nerves at the realization that you’re having sex with your best friend - worsens considerably when he drops his head to your neck, making an admission against your ear.

I’ve wanted this for so long …”

You whimper, curling your fingers into his hair and holding him close as he pulls out slowly just to slide into you again. You moan at the slow stretch, feeling his shaky breath against your ear.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you…” Tsukishima doesn’t know why he’s choosing now to have this conversation, when you very well can just talk about it after. But there’s a strand of fear twisting around the butterflies in the pit of his stomach, and his mouth is moving without his permission. He needs you to understand what this means to him.

“I didn’t know it would hurt you… I didn’t mean it…” His hips are still slow, moving languidly against yours. He’d expected this to be rough - sex is only ever rough for him - but he needs to concentrate on what he’s saying. And you feel so good like this, so warm and tight around him.

You’re having the same problem, your head completely empty as you feel him push into you inch by inch instead of all at once. You can barely hear him, your ears ringing and your skin overheating while you try to process that this is actually happening - that you finally have Tsukishima Kei the way that you’d always dreamed about.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Y/n.”

Your heart stutters when you realize what he’s been saying. Even with everything else going on right now - even as his hips are picking up the pace, even with his breath shuddering against your skin as he moans quietly in your ear - he’s distracted, trying to apologize. Trying to make things right between you.

“It’s okay…” You whisper forgiveness into his hair, but you feel him shake his head, his grip on your hips tightening.

“It’s not. I shouldn’t hurt you. Not you…” He gasps quietly into your neck, his hips stuttering momentarily before he returns to his previous speed. “S-Sorry… You feel really good… Trying to focus.”

You flush, clenching around him and pulling him closer when he groans. You think about what he’s saying. ‘ Not you ’?

You’re about to ask what he means, but he’s mumbling another admission against your skin, this one much more intense than the last.

“I love you, Y/n… So fucking in love, it hurts…”

You inhale sharply, your heart stopping in your chest. But then there’s a moan ripping from your throat, because he’s hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know existed, the tip of his cock bumping up against something that makes the coil in the pit of your stomach twist harshly.

“I- fuck - Tsukki, I love you, too…”

Tsukishima lifts his head then, staring down at you with surprise written all over his face. You can only breathe out a laugh, moaning quietly while you giggle.

“What, you’re shocked? I just told you I almost went home with Bokuto just so I could stop thinking about you.”

His eyes darken at your words, and his hips are snapping harshly against yours. You moan in surprise, feeling your stomach flip at the way he’s looking down at you. He seems to remember now just how this night could have gone.

He sits up, knocking your hands away when you reach out for him with a whine, and pulls out of you completely. Slipping off the edge of the bed, he wraps his hands around your thighs and tugs you toward him roughly. He only smiles mockingly down at you when you slide across the mattress with a quiet yelp, pulling your hips flush against his.

When he slips into you again, the soft, caring Tsukishima is gone, replaced with the Tsukki you’ve always known. The one who has no problem running his mouth just to get to you.

“That’s it then, huh? If I hadn’t dragged you home, you’d be wrapped around another man right now?” He slams into you, watching with delight as you cry out and arch your back. He keeps this pace, his grip on your hips bordering on painful as he drives his cock into you.

“Tsukki-”

“What did I tell you? ” His tone cuts through you, yanking hard on that coil in your navel and setting off a fresh flurry of butterflies.

“I- Kei -”

“You think you can forget about me that easily? You think I would let you?” 

You’re writhing under him, hands gripping your sheets tight as you gasp with each hard thrust of his hips on yours. The sight makes Tsukishima’s hips stutter, and he feels his orgasm coming on. He drops his thumb to your clit to push you closer to the edge, throwing his head back with a moan when you clench around him.

“Kei, please- feels so goo- ah- ”

“S-Shit, Y/n, I’m not gonna last… Where should I-” Tsukishima almost loses it when you claw at his hands on your hips, latching onto his wrists as you moan.

“Insi-Inside… Inside, Kei, please…” You look up at him, taking in the flush of his cheeks, the way his eyelids flutter when you clench around him. The way he bites down hard on his bottom lip and moans after a few seconds, breaking his hold on you so he can slam his hands down on the mattress on either side of you, his hair falling into his face as he pants down at you.

“Fuck -” He reaches down, brushing his thumb over your clit again. When you tighten around him this time, he’s letting out a choked gasp and your name, and you’re suddenly filled with warmth as his hips stutter, as he spills into you. He drops his head to your shoulder, his breath shaky as he thrusts into you, riding out his orgasm.

And when he’s done - when his cum is dripping out of you while you squirm, feeling full but unsatisfied - he sits up, pulling you against him again. He wraps his fingers around your wrists, smiling breathlessly when you cling to his forearms, and uses you as leverage when he draws his hips back and snaps them harshly into yours.

You cry out, feeling yourself throb the more he all but drags you down onto his cock and tries to draw your orgasm out of you. He releases your wrists, his thumb circling that little bundle of nerves while his other hand grips the back of your thigh, spreading your legs even further. 

When he changes the angle of his stroke, you’re gasping, unable to handle all of the sensations he’s causing in your body. There’s too much going on, too many feelings happening, each of which is bringing you closer to the edge. You slap your hands down over your face, trying both to muffle your moans and also hide your face, feeling embarrassed that your body is reacting so strongly to everything Tsukishima does.

He only coos down at you, his tone almost insulting.

“Oh, is my baby going to come?”

You whine loudly at his words, so rude but so endearing - your stomach swoops as the coil tightens, but you nod anyway. His low chuckle reaches your ears.

“Let me see you, then.” When you don’t respond, only moaning into your hands with each thrust, he clicks his teeth at you in annoyance. “Come on, Y/n. I wanna see how pretty my best friend looks when she comes on my cock.”

Tsukishima beams when that does it, your back arching as you cry out his name. You screw your eyes shut and fumble desperately for his hands. He slips his fingers through yours, holding tight when you come, your walls fluttering around him. He fucks you through it, inhaling sharply when you become impossibly tight, and then drops down over you when you're done, pressing his lips to yours.

You let out a sob against his mouth, your limbs heavy as you try to catch your breath. 

“Tsukki …” You wiggle uncomfortably, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging to him. He laughs against your neck, pressing kisses to your skin. And then he leans up again, pressing his lips to your tiredly.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” He snickers when you whine but joins in on your soft gasp when he slides out of you, both of you sensitive. Stripping you out of the dress that’s been bunched up on your stomach this whole time, he leaves you on the bed, kicking his jeans off as he makes his way into your connected bathroom. When he returns, it’s with a wet rag and a gentle hand on your thighs.

Tsukishima scoops you into his arms when he’s done, setting you carefully against the pillows and climbing into bed with you. Your head is still empty, and you reach your arms out uselessly for him, mumbling his name. He only smiles, pulling you against his chest and kissing the side of your head.

“You okay?” When you nod sleepily against his chest, he smiles, tugging you closer. “Not too mean?”

You giggle, planting a kiss on his neck.

“I like you a little mean.”

Tsukishima snorts, shaking his head.

“I know you do. But still…” He meets your eyes, suddenly shy, his cheeks flushing. “I’ll be better from now on. Less ‘ toxic boyfriend ’ and more ‘ insufferable but still cute ’.”

You beam at his words, your heart skipping.

“Boyfriend , huh?”

He rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh, I’m sorry - I forgot you and Bokuto were basically married.”

“Oh, right, I should probably tell him the wedding’s off-”

“You’re a dick.”

[queermarzipan]

exploding things with my mind like matilda. as an irish person who speaks english only BARELY removed from british english, and who uses the euro (WHICH THE UK DOES NOT, BY THE WAY,,),

you are not funny for forcing us culture on britain. britain sucks. i agree. the us sucks more in this case

Too tired to draw but I still need everyone to be aware of this bizarre interaction I had at work this morning

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

ZZZ Headcanons

Help this game has taken over my free time I love these characters sm <3 Billy Soukaku and Ellen my beloved

Nicole: has a not so secret hobby of bedazzling anything and everything. It’s a real problem in the Cunning Hares apartment, nothing is safe from pink rhinestones and stickers

Anby: cracked at rhythm games to an alarming degree. Can do a 2 person extremely hard DDR song all by herself

Billy: I don’t know how they did it but they programmed an android with autism. Has his own version of a skincare routine which is basically just maintenance on all of his tiny mechanical parts. Can also gain power multiple ways, including solar power. The apartment complex where the Cunning Hares live had a blackout once and everyone used Billy as a personal charging port. Nicole promised to pay him in Starlight Knight merch.

Nekomata: cuts her own hair and offers to do it for other people. DO NOT trust her when she says she’s good at it

Grace: did gymnastics as a kid which is why she’s able to pull off a ton of backflips and flexible maneuvers in battle

Anton: uses actual cement to keep his hair spikes in shape. Koleda caught him in the act once and instead of chewing him out, she decided to apply some to her own hair and now they’re cement combover gang

Ben: is completely vegan and loves chilling at hot springs a lot. Still sleeps with stuffed animals btw

Koleda: I’m making it canon right now Koleda is trans and you can’t do shit about it. Also has welding as a hobby and made most of her accessories from scratch

Corin: when not in Victoria Housekeeping Co uniform, is a Jfashion junkie. I’m talking super dedicated Lolita fits, menhera inspired clothing, the whole shebang. She ofc designs a lot of her own stuff like her bear backpack and is also responsible for a lot of the accessories Victoria Housekeeping Co wears (Rina’s bows, Ellen’s shark jaw head and neckpieces, Lycaon’s eyepatch and tail straps). She also has a massive crush on Ellen and is too scared to admit it

Rina: has a fur allergy and can’t keep animals around. Which also means she’s allergic to Lycaon. She has to take so much Zyrtec before clocking in but has such a good poker face that Lycaon has no idea. Ellen knows tho

Lycaon: specifically wears the heeled boots and has his odd posture because he’s self conscious about his digitigrade legs, he thinks they’re unsightly for a butler of his standing to have. He also tries to encourage Ellen to wear a long maid dress like Rina does to hide her tail.

Ellen: coincidentally falls into a lot of shark stereotypes. She loves seafood, has to constantly be fidgeting or she feels like she’ll go mad, and the kicker, she gets frenzied around blood, or if the thing she’s fighting puts up a struggle. Corin accidentally cut her hand while repairing her saw blade once and both Lycaon and Rina could barely hold Ellen back once Corin began bleeding. Ellen feels awful for scaring the already timid girl. Corin secretly thought it was hot and would die on the spot if anyone knew that

Soukaku: despite being a huge foodie this girl cannot cook for shit. Is also physically cold to the touch and during the summer her coworkers will ask her to hold their drinks because they’ll stay cold. Soukaku always secretly sneaks sips every time they do this to her.

Miyabi: has the worst sleep schedule known to man. Sometimes you’ll find her awake at 3AM and conked out by 4PM, other times she goes to bed at 8PM and wakes up at 4AM. It’s inconsistent and irregular and a gamble trying to contact her outside of work because she might not even be awake

Harumasa: GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL GAY. Also pretty cracked at chess and other strategy games. Is also a major old fashioned guy and doesn’t own a lot of modern technology. He’s not into retro or old stuff, he just doesn’t like new stuff

Yanagi: her glasses are fake. When she was younger she needed them, but her vision had naturally gotten better over the years, so she now wears contacts, but for some reason still insists on wearing her glasses. Loses them constantly during battle.

Lucy: even though she was forced to play piano as a kid, she really wanted to be a sporty girl and play stuff like soccer and baseball. Now she has the freedom to take part in the sports she likes and watch them surrounded by the people she likes

Piper: insanely picky eater to the point it drives Lucy up a wall. Is also picky about a lot of other things, like how different fabrics feel, different comfort levels of chairs and beds, girl is a complainer and will always find something to complain about

Lighter: has a side gig as a tattoo artist, has really stable hands too

Soldier 11: has 5 younger brothers, a younger sister, and 2 older siblings who she doesn’t see super often. Has divorced parents who also liked to adopt, which is why she has such a huge family. Her younger brothers love it when she comes home and plays secret agent military with them

Seth: can’t drive. That’s it send tweet.

Qingyi: is outwardly dismissive of meditation tricks and hacks and tips but utilizes that shit in private ALL the time.

Zhu Yuan: shares the vegetables she grows in her garden with all her neighbors. Is also a REALLY good cook to the point people have encouraged her to potentially consider a different career path

Jane Doe: the rat girl has pet rats go figure. But in all seriousness she’d die for her little guys. She has a white one named Cocaine and a brown one named Tobacco and a gray one named Crystal Meth. She thinks the names are hilarious and every time she introduces the rats to other people their facial expressions are priceless

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 6)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 6 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

days off mean lounging around, sharing meals and potentially sharing intimate movements? it's getting harder and harder to push your feelings for lando aside, even if there is a voice in the back of your head reminding you getting involved with a british driver (but that voice sounds a lot like charles' so its easy to ignore)

word count: 5.8k tags/warnings some social media aus

if anyone read this part when it was originally posted im so sorry, something got messed up and like half of the chapter didnt post sooo here it is now

“I am not watching another one of these stupid vampire movies.”

Lando had kept his mouth shut all day. He didn’t complain when you put Twilight on, craving a bit of nostalgia and a reason to lounge on the couch for the foreseeable evening. He didn’t say anything when you put New Moon on, he just gave you a questionable look when you spoke in unison with Jacob Black when he said the iconic ‘Bella, where the hell have you been loca’ line.

By the time you started Eclipse, the third in the series, Lando stood up from the couch. Your attention had been divided between your phone and the movie for the majority of the day so you really weren’t paying attention to Lando until you realised he was spending a good chunk of time in the kitchen.

You lifted your head, “What are you doing?”

“Driving a race car,” Lando called back, tone dropping with sarcasm, as he pulled out a knife to start cutting the vegetables he had taken from the fridge. 

You sat up a bit straighter, eyeing the red pepper on the cutting board, “I don’t like red peppers.”

“There were peppers in your omelette this morning,” Lando scoffed, turning to look at you.

“Those were green peppers. I don’t like red ones.”

“They are literally the same thing.”

“Not to me.”

Lando held the pointed end of the knife in your direction, “You are making my life very difficult right now.” When you just flashed him a smile and turned back to the movie, Lando put the red pepper away and swapped it for a green one. 

You weren’t even sure what he was making, but it smelled good so you kept quiet for the most part. 

You tried to tell him you were allergic to whatever seasoning he just pulled out of the cupboard and in response, Lando put a handful of it in his hand, walked over to you, and blew it directly into your face.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes as you grabbed a tissue to rid your face of what you assumed was some sort of combination of dill and garlic powder. 

“You should be thanking your lucky stars this recipe didn’t call for cayenne pepper, you ungrateful shit,” Lando laughed as he returned back to the kitchen. Now you really stayed quiet. 

When he returned, you had your defences up, flinching as he approached you as you were scared he was going to throw something else in your face. Lando only rolled his eyes and handed you a bowl and a bottle of sparkling water. 

You sat up and took a look at the Greek inspired chicken bowl. With layers of rice, protein, a variety of vegetables topped with feta cheese, it made your mouth water before you could take the first bite.

“Maybe you should open up a restaurant,” you suggested when he sat down next to you. 

“Let’s just open one together.”

“In your dreams.”

Lando took a sip of his Perrier water and nodded in agreement, “Sounds like a pretty good dream to me.”

You ate dinner and kept watching the movie, choosing to ignore that comment. Lando asked a couple questions here and there, needing clarification on who some characters were that he had missed when he was making dinner, but you had the feeling he was as into these movies as you were.

Until it was nearing eleven and you had just put the final movie on. Breaking Dawn Part 2. And Lando snatched the remote from your hands, pausing it at the opening credits. 

“I am not watching another one of these stupid vampire movies.”

You stared at him in shock, “You said we could do what I wanted today!” 

“I didn’t think that would involve ten straight hours of a vampire-werewolf love triangle that is making me want to rip my eyes out,” Lando exclaimed with a laugh, his words cutting right through your heart.

You ripped the remote from his hands and sat up, pointing at the tv, “The Twilight Saga is a cinematic masterpiece.”

Lando threw his head back and laughed, “Oh really? How many Oscars has it won?”

“It won MTV’s Best Onscreen Kiss in 2009.”

“I feel like this isn’t information you should just know off the top of your head.”

You groaned and pressed play, “Can we just watch it? It’s the last movie.”

“You watch it, I’m getting ready for bed.” Lando tousled his hand through your hair before using you as a crutch to stand up. You pushed him out of the way as he walked in front of the tv and he made another comment about how this was one of the worst series’ he’s ever seen before walking into the bathroom.

You turned your attention to the screen, but when your phone started to ring you turned it down and saw Arthur was calling you to check in, ask if you’d be at Silverstone and what not. It was an innocent enough conversation, until he asked where you were.

“At a friend's house,” you sat up a bit, thankful that Lando wasn’t anywhere near you to make this conversation more difficult.

“Oh, which friend?”

Fuck your mind went blank.

You said the first name that came to mind, “Laura.”

Arthur laughed, “Who the hell is Laura?”

“Oh you’ve met her before,” you lied through your teeth. “Blonde, has the piercings-”

“That describes about half of your friends,” Arthur cut you off, probably not caring too much who you were with, as long as you were somewhere safe. “Have you talked to Charles lately?”

Aside from a few texts, you really hadn’t heard from your brother since you left Canada, “Not much, why?”

There was a bit of hesitation, “No reason, just wondering.”

Any other day you would have called Arthur out on withholding information from you. Something must have been going on with your brothers for Arthur to even ask if you had spoken to Charles, but Arthur ended this phone call almost immediately after, making up some bullshit training excuse.

You made a mental note to call him out on it next time you spoke, but until then you returned back to the vampire-werewolf love triangle Lando despised so much.

When the bathroom door opened, you glanced in that direction in time to see a cloud of steam protrude into the hallway. You wouldn’t have paid any more attention to it, had Lando not immediately followed and stepped out of the bathroom.

With nothing but a towel hanging around his hips. 

You really tried to focus on the movie. You would have been fuming if you stepped out of the shower in nothing but a towel and Lando couldn’t stop staring at you, but this was the first time you’d seen him like this and it was quite distracting.

You’d seen his shirtless pictures on instagram. You’ve seen clips of him changing shirts in Lando edits on twitter or tik tok, but this was different. Holy fuck was this different. 

Beads of water clung to his skin, accentuating the dips and curves of the muscles in his back. He shook out his head, running his fingers through the wet strands of hair to try and keep the curls from sticking to his forehead. 

And then he looked at you and you knew you had been caught staring.

“I’m just going into the room to change,” he told you. It had been your room for the last few weeks, but he still had all of his clothes in the closet. You nodded, mentally telling yourself to not look down at where the towel sat on his hips. 

But you couldn’t do anything about pulling your eyes off his body as he walked down the hall and shut the bedroom door behind him. 

It took you a second to pull yourself together after that.

Lando was hot. 

You knew he was attractive, everyone who had eyes would agree to that. He had cute, boy-ish features and a magnetic smile that made it hard to look away. Like a lot of the drivers on the grid, Lando was good looking, he had that going for him.

But he was hot.

Hot enough to make you temporarily forget about one of your favourite movie series, hot enough that you couldn’t say a single word to him when he told he was just going to change, hot enough that you were now imagining what he might have looked like without the towel.

You sat up straighter, forcing these thoughts out of your mind. You knew you shouldn’t be thinking about Lando like that so when he walked out of the bedroom, you didn’t even let yourself look at him as he sauntered down the hall. In the corner of your eye you could see him make himself a cup of tea in the kitchen. When he asked if you wanted one, you could only shake your head.

It was hard to focus on the movie knowing Lando was right there. You weren’t even watching, you were just pretending to because you needed something to look at that wasn’t him. 

When he sat down next to you, he carefully put his cup of tea on the coffee table and leaned against the back cushions with a heavy breath. He was sitting a few inches closer to you now than he had been before, you weren’t imagining that. He had the hood of his jumper pulled up around his head, his arm resting behind his neck and neither of you said anything for a little while.

Until Lando, not even pulling his eyes from the screen, asked, “Were you checking me out?”

In response, you grabbed the pillow that had fallen on the ground and smacked him right in the face with it. Lando laughed, but he couldn’t dodge it, instead letting it fall to his lap and eyeing the way your cheeks turned red and how you refused to look at him.

“That’s a very violent way to say yes,” there was a smugness to his tone. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking.

“I wasn’t.” You practically hissed, “I looked at you, there’s a difference.”

You were definitely checking him out when he stepped out of the bathroom.

But he didn’t need to know that.

Lando wasn’t going to let this go, “It’s okay, I check you out sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes, deciding that if he wanted to start this game, you would play dirty. “Yeah I bet you absolutely drool at the sight of me in the Ferrari garage talking to Carlos.”

But that didn’t deter Lando like you thought it would. He shifted on the couch to face you, arm resting along the back of it, “Okay can you tell me about that? Like is there something going on there?”

You finally looked at him, eyebrows raised, “Going on with…?”

“You and Carlos.”

You snorted, “No.”

“But you guys are close.”

“We’re friends.”

“Nothing more?”

“If we were more I probably would have called him last night instead of you, don’t you think?” 

It was a sentimental thought, but your tone was bitter and Lando caught it, like you couldn’t believe you were actually talking about this. But Lando didn’t know that this was an ongoing conversation with those that were close to you and Charles. People jumped to their own conclusions and while you did like Carlos, you would never see him as anything more than a friend. 

“So what are we?”

Now you felt forced to pause the movie. You turned on the couch, crossing your legs underneath you as you stared at the British driver, “Are we really having this conversation?”

“I just want clarification, is all,” Lando said, a hand held up in defence before you could give him any more attitude. “You didn’t call Carlos because you guys are just friends and nothing more, but you called me.”

“You’re thinking too much about this.”

“I’m thinking about it the right amount,” Lando retorted. Still, you were unimpressed and he could see that. Through your blank stare and semi-scowl, Lando got the impression that this was not how you wanted the night to end.

But he had a point, whether you admitted it or not. 

Lando was who you called. Even if you didn’t remember it, he was who you wanted to be with last night, he was who you missed. 

However there was something he seemed to be forgetting.

“I don’t date drivers, Lando.”

“I know, I know, and I don’t want to keep having this conversation but I also don’t know where we stand,” he tried to reason with you, he wanted more than just the same rejection you’ve been giving him for a while now. Flirting was fun, hanging out with him was exhilarating and while you knew it couldn’t turn into anything more, Lando wanted you to think otherwise.

“We’re friends,” you said, point blankly. You needed to remove yourself from this situation so you grabbed the empty bowl that had been sitting on the coffee table and you walked to the kitchen. 

You shouldn’t have been surprised when Lando followed.

“Friends who kiss?”

“Once,” you pointed out, dropping the bowl into the sink, making sure your back was towards him. “We’ve kissed once and it didn’t mean anything.”

Lando scoffed, you could practically hear his eye roll as he stood behind you, “It didn’t mean anything? Really?” 

No, but that’s what he needed to hear. You didn’t want Lando to know that you were conflicted, torn between knowing that you shouldn’t want to hang out with him as much as you did and wanting him to kiss you again. You didn’t like the level of comfort you two had reached and you hated that his presence made you as happy as it did.

So he needed to believe the kiss didn’t mean anything and maybe if you said it enough times, you’d believe it to.

“It didn’t mean anything,” you repeated, hands resting on the edge of the counter. “It was the thirty second deal. Once you reach zero you’re done.”

But Lando wasn’t as naive as you were.

“And how many seconds do I have left?” He asked, standing mere inches from you. If you looked up and to the right even slightly, you’d catch his eyes.

A sharp exhale passed through your lips, “Eleven.”

Lando gently took hold of your wrist and spun you around to face him. With your back pressed up against the counter, you were limited to what you could do or where you could look. You were practically forced to meet his hazel eyes and you were frozen when he lifted his hand up to the side of your face.

His fingers were gently, resting right where your neck met your jaw as he closed the gap even more, dropping his face to yours. He didn’t kiss you, but he came horribly close. Instead, letting his nose nudge yours as his lips parted. 

You found yourself reaching for the front of his jumper, curling your fingers around the material to hold him against you. Each breath carried more and more anticipation, your heart nearly pounding out of your chest as Lando hovered his lips right above yours. 

He had eleven seconds left, but he wasn’t going to rush into them. He just wanted to prove a point. 

You wanted to kiss him. 

“Lando,” you were so quiet. You weren’t even sure what you were asking from him.

You were frozen in place and Lando’s breaths were in sync with yours and each second that passed where he didn’t kiss you only drove you more and more insane. It wasn’t fair. 

“You can’t tell me this doesn’t mean anything,” Lando’s words were laced with timid desperation. He wanted you both to be on the same page and as terrifying as it was to admit, that build up, the moment before the kiss, meant something. You shouldn’t have wanted him as bad as you did.

You applied the slightest bit of pressure to his chest. Lando got the hint and stepped backwards, giving you the space you needed to think clearly.

“I just-” the fear of Charles finding out flooded your mind, followed by the media spinning this out of control and then images of a Ferrari-McLaren crash were at the forefront of your thoughts. You shook your head. “I need to go to bed.”

Lando wasn’t going to push to get anything else out of you. He watched as you slowly walked down the hall. You didn’t dare give him one last look before collapsing on the bed and calling it a night.

——————

3

The upside to yours and Lando’s friendship, or relationship, was that each new day was exactly that. A new day. 

You woke up in the morning and neither of you addressed the almost kiss you shared last night. Lando didn’t ask again if it meant anything and you were able to focus on getting ready and doing your makeup without any intrusive thoughts. 

Because you had watched most of the Twilight movies yesterday and that was all you wanted to do, it was Lando’s choice today. He had been texting furiously all morning and even stepped outside to take a few calls, leaving you with more questions than answers.

And he wouldn’t give you any hints. It was a surprise, apparently. He even asked if he could blindfold you before you got into his car and a simple glare in response told him that that would never happen.

During the drive, you both took turns picking the song. Lando would question most of your choices, mostly because a lot of the artists you liked were French, but in return you would judge the majority of the British rap that he chose. 

“Can you please just tell me where we’re going?” You asked, noticing you were driving further and further out of the city. “You’re not kidnapping me are you?”

“I’m not kidnapping you.”

“Is this another date?”

“Not a date either,” Lando answered. 

You couldn’t imagine what the outskirts of London had to offer. You tried to ask more questions, but they were all shot down. And when the road you were on turned to dirt and gravel and you could no longer see any sign of city life, you turned to him again.

“I need a hint or something.”

“You are so impatient,” Lando laughed, reaching over the console to give your leg a playful squeeze. “We’re almost there. I promise- well, I think you’ll like it.”

Almost was a stretch. It took another fifteen minutes before he turned down yet another dirt road, thick forestry on either side. You couldn’t begin to imagine what he had in store. 

And then you saw a few trailers parked in front of a steel dome with a garage door. It took a second for you to realise there was a dark green car parked in the garage and a few people hanging around it.

“What is going on?” You asked him, but you weren’t surprised when all he did was smile.

Lando pulled his car off to the side, using a few fingers to wave at the other people who were apparently waiting for him. He then turned the car off and gave you one of his familiar, charming grins. 

“Ready?” 

“I don’t know what you signed me up for, so no.”

Lando didn’t let you ask any more questions before he opened the door, quickly scurrying to the other side of the car to open yours as well. He helped you out and you watched as two of the people that were in the garage started making their way over to you.

You recognised Max Fewtrell, Lando’s best friend. You’d never actually met him before, but you’d seen him at races and all over social media. The girl next to him was also familiar with dark brown hair and beautiful features, but you couldn’t place a name.

With his hand on your back, Lando and you took a few steps forward. He gestured towards Max first, “This is Max, that’s Ria-” he looked at you to introduce you to his friends. “This is Y/N.”

Ria Bish, now you knew where you recognised her from. She was part of Lando’s Quadrant team. 

And both her and Max were wearing Quadrant merch. Merch that you hadn’t seen before. And usually Lando made a habit of wearing his own clothing whenever he could. Behind them, you finally spotted a skeleton crew of camera operators.

You looked up at Lando, “What the fuck is going on here?”

Ria sort of chuckled, “You didn’t tell her?”

“He doesn’t tell me anything,” you shook your head. 

But now you were able to figure it out. The new merchandise. The Quadrant team. The camera set up. 

“You’re dropping a new collection,” you said, finally it wasn’t a question.

And that wasn’t the only surprise.

Lando was positively beaming, “And I want you to model for the photo and video shoot.”

Your jaw dropped as you tried to tell if he was playing some sort of joke or not. The way he looked at you told you that he wasn’t lying. Ria and Max wore similar excited expressions, clearly you were the only one left out of this decision. 

Modelling wasn’t new to you, but usually your agent contacted you when you had a new job. You didn’t show up to a set with no warning and by the looks of it, this wasn’t even a professional set. This was something Lando had set up with members of his own team.

“I’m not-”

“You don’t have a choice,” Lando interjected before you could turn this down. “I’m pretty sure we agreed that today we did what I wanted to do.”

You thought about it for a moment before a new concern came to mind, “How long have you been planning this?”

Lando scratched the back of his neck, “Honestly, I always knew I wanted you to model this collection. It just worked out that we could do it today.”

“But why-”

“Danny’s never asked you to model one of his collections, has he?”

Oh.

Oh. 

That’s what this was about. Your driver ranking. You told Lando to get creative and he was doing exactly that. He knew you lived in your DR3 merch, he knew you admired the third Red Bull driver, but Daniel had never given you the opportunity to be part of his collection drop. 

Max handed him a purple top which he just handed over to you, looking quite proud of himself as he draped his arm over your shoulders, tugging you against his side.

“Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fun,” Lando encouraged. You held out the t-shirt to look at the design as Lando kept trying to talk you into it. “The fans will love it.”

“Charles will not.”

“Who cares what Charles thinks?”

You tilted your chin up, eyebrows raised, “You know, usually I get paid for these types of jobs.”

And it was your fault, really, for using a suggestive tone. For letting your gaze drop to his lips. For forgetting that two of his friends were literally standing right in front of you, watching this interaction.

Lando ran with it. He just dipped his head towards your ear, using a volume that only you could hear, leaving Max and Ria to wonder what they were missing.

“I’m sure we can figure something out later.”

Thank god for Ria catching the way your cheeks turned red. She grabbed hold of your wrist and pulled you away from Lando before the innuendos could get any worse, “Come on, I’ll show you the trailer to change in.”

You walked with Ria, waiting a few seconds before looking over your shoulder at Lando who had jumped right into a conversation with Max. But he was watching you too, his gaze darting towards you as he spoke, but trying not to make it obvious. 

Ria unlatched the door to the trailer and stepped back for you to walk in, “Can I ask how your brother feels about all of this? About you and Lando?”

“Oh he doesn’t-” you paused on the steps, sending one more look towards the British driver. 

You should have said, there was no ‘you and Lando’ but instead your instant response was to say that Charles was unaware. And even though you had no idea what was going either, there was certainly something. 

But you just shrugged, “Charles doesn’t know anything.”

Ria eyed the merch in your hands. You were both thinking the same thing, but she was the one to voice the thoughts, "I guess that's about to change."

ynleclerc

liked by maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 25,351 others

tagged: landonorris, team_quadrant

ynleclerc quadrant OFF ROAD* collection drops soon i think?

view all 2,197 comments

landonorris nice

riabish ♡♡

danielricciardo this feels like a betrayal?

ynleclerc still love u ❤️

inthepaddock that last pic is my 13th reason

usersainzz carlos has been awfully quiet

charles_leclerc what is this

landonorris merch drop mate

You told Lando not to respond to Charles’ comment, it would only feed the fire. But then you saw him click ‘reply’ and you weren’t quick enough to snatch the phone out of his hands. You tried, but Lando just held the phone way out of reach.

The photoshoot had been fun, you could admit that, but the entire car ride back to his place, your stomach filled with nerves as you debated posting a collection of photos from it. You wanted to support Lando, you wanted to show off the new clothing, but you were terrified of what Charles would say. 

Lando held the door open for you to step into his flat and he could see you were still fighting with yourself. He snatched the phone out of your hands and swiped through the pictures.

“If you’re so worried about what he’ll say, don’t include the last one.”

“But I like the last one,” you admitted with a shy smile. It was one that Ria had snapped when you walked out of the trailer in the all purple attire. And maybe you were the one that pulled Lando to your side to get a photo of the two of you matching but he was the one who dropped his head right next to yours. 

And then you were the one who held the side of his face, resulting in a pose that looked very…

“We look like a couple,” Lando voiced your concern as he sat down on the couch, pulling out his own phone. “I love the picture, I do, but if it's causing you this much anxiety, don’t post it.”

When you sat down next to him, you glanced at his phone screen and saw that he was swiping through the photos as well. Taking a few extra seconds to examine the ones of just the two of you. When he zoomed in on your smile you rolled your eyes and playfully pushed your hand against his face.

“You had fun, right?” Lando asked, turning his attention to you. Not the you on his phone screen, the you that was sitting so close to him that he could feel the faint movements of your body with each breath you too, so close that he could see the worry lines in your forehead and guilt in your eyes. 

But you nodded, “I really did.”

He grinned from ear to ear, “So am I up to third now? In your driver ranking?”

You sighed heavily, “It appears so.”

Lando curled his hand into a celebratory fist. You ignored his childish ways and looked at your Instagram post again. You really did have a good time today. Getting to know some of Lando’s friends was entertaining, especially when they were able to tell you all of the stories that Lando wouldn’t ever share himself. 

It shouldn’t have mattered how your brothers would react, you were happy. You had a really fucking good day. 

So you posted the four pictures.

Lando commented immediately. When you asked him if he had your post notifications on he just muttered a quiet ‘no’ and tried to hide in the hood of his jumper. 

And then Charles saw it. His ‘what is this’ comment made you feel sick and you begged Lando not to respond but Lando loved making your life difficult and even though his response was innocent enough, you weren’t surprised when Charles’ name appeared on your phone a few seconds later, his ringtone burning through your ears.

“I’ll answer it-”

“You absolutely will not,” you snapped at Lando. “You will stay quiet. If you so much as breathe too loudly I will shave your head in your sleep.”

Lando believed you. You weren’t one to bluff.

You stood up and answered the call, mentally preparing yourself for a scolding. 

“Hey Cha-”

“Why were you with Lando?” He asked. Not even a hello or a how are you. Just straight to the point. “Why are you promoting his brand?”

“It was a job,” you looked at Lando, but there was enough space between you that he couldn’t make out what Charles was saying on the other end. “Lando was in the city, he asked if I wanted to participate and I said yes. It’s not a big deal.”

It was a lie. It wasn't a real job and Lando didn't force you in front of the camera. If you wanted out of the photoshoot, you could have said no.

But you wanted to be part of it.

“It’s kind of a big deal, Y/N,” Charles didn’t sound annoyed, he sounded genuinely mad at you. “You’re my sister and you’re promoting another driver's merch? How do you think that makes me look?”

“I don’t think people are thinking about that,” you scoffed. Charles wasn’t one to have selfish tendencies, so this was really coming out of left field. “It was a photoshoot, Charles. Don't try to create a problem when there's not one. You don't care when I wear Daniel's merch."

"Daniel isn't driving."

"That's not the point and you know it."

Charles had something against you

There was silence on his end. You thought about just hanging up and ending the conversation there. Otherwise this would have turned into an argument that neither of you would win. 

But then he just had to keep it going.

“Do you-” Charles paused again. You knew where he was going and you really regretted not hanging up when you had the chance. “Do you like him?”

Even though Lando had no idea what sort of conversation you were in the middle of, he was still watching you carefully. When you turned your head to look at him, you felt stuck. Conflicted. This was not how you wanted to feel. 

“Peut-être,” you said, eyes locked on Lando’s. Maybe. Maybe you did like him more than you were willing to let on, more than you wanted to. 

Making the switch to French was a dead giveaway for Charles, “Are you with him right now?”

Again, all you could say was, “Peut-être.”

Lando was trying to piece together what you were saying. With his eyebrows pinched together and jaw tightened, you could see he was concerned. The photoshoot was his idea and now Charles was taking his frustration out on you, he felt responsible. 

“Je dois partir,” I need to go. You said quietly. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

“No, don’t hang-”

You pulled the phone away from your ear and left it on the counter in the kitchen. Lando stood up and walked over to you as soon as he knew the conversation was over. He gently put his hand on your back and kept it there as he turned you to face him.

“Look I knew Charles wouldn’t be happy but I didn’t think-”

“Don’t,” you shook your head, rubbing your hand over your face in distress. “It’s not your fault. None of this is and I shouldn’t even care what he thinks.”

“But he’s your brother, so you’re going to care.”

All you could do was shrug your shoulders. This was a lose-lose situation for you. If you distanced yourself from Lando, you wouldn’t be happy. If you stayed with Lando, if you let yourself be happy with him, Charles would distance himself from you. 

Lando lifted his hand to the side of your face, thumb brushing over your cheek, “Can I ask- what does ‘peut-être’ mean?”

You leaned into his touch, “It means ‘maybe’.”

“Maybe what?”

God were you really going to tell him?

It was hard to keep your eyes on his, every voice in your head told you to just turn around and walk away. Leave this conversation now otherwise you’d be digging your own grave.

But it was so easy to tune out those voices when the whole world stopped as he looked at you. 

“Maybe..." you started, taking a breath, “maybe I like you.”

Lando smiled, well it was a mix between a smile and smirk, hearing the words that he'd been waiting for. “Maybe?” He asked, heavy on the sarcasm. “Only maybe?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he licked his lips. That fucker knew what he was doing. His gaze dropped to your own lips for a second, “I have eleven seconds left, yeah?”

You nodded and the last thing you caught was the devient glint in his eyes before he connected his mouth to yours, making the move that you were reluctant to.

Your lips moved in slow synchronisation, there was less of a hurry this time compared to at the hotel, both of you wanting this moment to last. Lando’s fingers slipped into your hair, your hand found his chest before it slid up towards his neck instead, bringing him closer to you, if that was even possible.

Lando’s grip tightened on your side and every thought in your brain, the countdown that you should have started, Charles’ disapproval, all of it vanished and instead there was him and only him. 

It was like Lando was kissing you with every inch of his soul. Like he was trying to use this moment to replace all of the words he couldn’t say because he knew you wouldn’t listen anyway. It was the kind of kiss that you could get used to, that you wanted to get used to. 

Breathlessly, you pulled away. Lando rested his forehead against yours, the pads of his fingers brushing against your cheek as he swallowed.

“Times up,” you whispered, both of you aware that it had been a little longer than eleven seconds.

“It doesn’t have to be, you know that right?”

You could have more than just those expired thirty seconds. You could have every day with him if you wanted, Lando not only hinted at that but he had also made it so blatantly obvious that he wanted you. 

This wasn’t about a stupid driver ranking anymore. 

Somewhere over these last few weeks, there was a shift. Lando didn’t just care about working his way up, he cared about you. He wanted to make you happy, he wanted to see you smile, be the reason for your laugh, spend every possible minute of the day with you if it wasn’t a race weekend, and even then, he wanted to see you at the Paddock more than anything. 

Lando liked you. 

And it was terrifying, but you couldn’t deny your feelings anymore. You couldn’t mask them with sarcasm and eye rolls. You couldn’t hide it anymore. You wanted more than just those thirty seconds.

You wanted him. 

masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader if i forgot anyone im so sorry

[quartzalynlove]

No Kisses

Pairing: hobie brown x fem black reader

Summary: Hobie forgot to kiss you before leaving. You decide to mess with him

A/n: I'm still figuring out how to use British slang so if anyone has tips I'll gladly take them

Being Spider-Man was a huge responsibility, even for someone as allergic to responsibility and consistency as Hobie. Of course, he was devoted to his city and the cause, but you never knew that devotion could surpass you.

Honestly, you weren't mad that Hobie forgot to kiss you before swinging out of the window, but it would have been fun to act like you were. He left around noon, and it was eleven at night when he returned. In the living room, you laid on the couch snuggled in a blanket and rewatching one of your favorite shows. Hobie knew where to look first when you weren't in the bedroom. Already unmasked, he went to join you on the couch. However, when he greeted you and patted your thighs for you to move your legs, you didn't budge. You kept your eyes straight ahead at the TV screen.

Hobie's brows furrowed in confusion as he waved his hand in front of your face, "baby?" He called.

An annoyed sigh came from you as you moved Hobie's hand from your view. He knew that face. The tight lips, slightly squinted eyes, and a small scrunch of your nose. You were irritated. Normally, Hobie would've thought you looked adorable in your little mood, but it was obvious you were irritated with him.

"I do somethin' wrong, babe?" He asked with a tilt of his head.

Finally, you looked at him, but it was only a quick glance before your attention was redirected at the TV. Your look made Hobie wince as his fist thumped lightly on his forehead.

"Ah, shit, what'd I do?" He mentally recounted his entire day.

After coming up with nothing, Hobie crouched next to you and placed his hand on the free couch space in front of you.

"Look at me, baby?"

Adding a slight pout for good measure, you stood your ground as Hobie tried to get your attention again.

"Babe, please." he called, but you remained a statue.

Unfortunately for you, however, Hobie knew a sure fire way to grab your attention. By this point he had caught on that you were pretending. He's seen you when you were mad at him, and you had a habit of not staying around him until you calmed down. Besides, the two of you normally had very good communication. You gave him no choice; if you wanted to play, the gloves were coming off.

Hobie lowered his voice. "Peng ting."

The statue blinked at that stupid phrase. Hobie didn't just throw that phrase around with you; it only came from the deepest part of his heart. It was like a second name he had given you. You relaxed your face without even noticing, but a smile spread across Hobie's.

"There you are." His voice was honeyed as he tapped a finger underneath your chin, inching closer.

You tried to resist, moving your face as Hobie continued to tickle the underside of your chin.

A quiet laugh came from you as you finally spoke. "Stop."

As a smile stretched across your face, Hobie felt warmth spread throughout his body.

"Nah, I thought you were having a laugh wit’ me, babe; thought you were mad at me?"

"I am!" Taking your hand from under your blanket, you playfully pushed away Hobie's face

Before you could draw it back, Hobie grabbed your hand and ran his thumb across your knuckles. Now on his knees, Hobie leaned in closer to you.

"Right." Hobie went to kiss you, but before your lips could connect you sat up, taking your hand back and folding your arms over your chest.

As you stared down at Hobie, he curiously stared back while resting himself in your lap.

"So, I can't kiss you, is that it?" He asked.

With a small eye roll, you turned away. This was really the performance of your life.

"It's crazy you wanna give me an 'I'm home' kiss but not an 'I'm leaving' one."

Hobie's head tilted, resting on his arm as his eyes searched around in thought. He looked up at you again.

"I didn't kiss you before I left?" He asked

As a reply, you simply glanced at Hobie before leaning fully into the couch with a light sigh. A small laugh came from Hobie as he began to stand before sitting down next to you.

“My bad, baby, I’m sorry,” He leaned into you, his eyes gazing over the features of your face. “But I can make it up, can’t I?”

When you turned back, you were met with a hungry smile on Hobie’s face that caused a small smirk to form on your lips.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged.

Hobie couldn’t stand you playing hard to get like this; he wanted nothing more than to kiss your lips, your cheeks, and nose thousands of times. Why did you have to act so cruel?

“Why you gotta act mad with me, baby?” Hobie started poking at you, but you wouldn’t give in.

You cocked an eyebrow as you glared at him, “Acting,” you turned away again. “Nah, I thought you loved me.”

Suddenly, you felt two of Hobie’s fingers turning your head one last time to meet his gaze, and his face was dead serious.

“Aye, don’t play like that, baby,” He said. “You know I love you.”

A smile spread across your face as you felt his touch on your cheek, “Do I?” you asked.

From your dark eyes to your gorgeous lips, Hobie’s eyes traveled. His entire hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb stroking across your skin.

His voice could barely rise above a whisper, “Yeah,” he said before leaning in to place a deep kiss on your lips. “Yeah, you do.”

[runraerun]

Billy with hanahaki disease ?🌸?

Pain!:’)

I love it! Here ya go🌸🩸

Fic prompts are: OPEN if anyone else is interested 💌 -> 📬

Tw; blood, slight body horror.

—

It started shortly after Billy moved to this shitty little town in the middle of assfuck nowhere. He chalked it up to the air quality being dogshit compared to California, or maybe he was allergic to that pungent smell of manure that the locals seemed totally nose blind to. The absolute last thing he would have considered was a goddamn plant had started growing inside of him–a love plant.

It was rare. You were only susceptible to it if you had a certain gene that you inherited from your maternal line. Lucky him.

Guess he can’t say his mom left him with nothing when she packed her shit up and skipped town. No, instead of a forwarding address, Billy’s mom left him her shitty, fairy genes. Thanks, Mom. Real swell of you.

“Has there been anyone you’ve had your eye on?” The school nurse asks, voice pitched low, gentle, like she was trying to soothe some kind of volatile beast.

Billy spits another mouthful of blood into the pan he’s holding, the crumpled up flower petals that he’d just finished hacking up look like chunks of his lung rather than a part of a plant. Runs his tongue along his teeth to try and fish anything out that may have gotten left behind in the carnage.

“No.” He says, stubbornly. He doesn’t look up from the pan.

“Well, Hanahaki disease can only take root under very specific circumstances. It feeds off a pheromone our bodies release when we experience a certain emotion; the stress of a love that’s unrequited. It’s the only–”

“I said no, alright?” Billy barks, voice still a little ragged from his coughing fit. Like he’d swallowed with a mouthful of gravel. “Get off my back.”

The nurse sighs, but she doesn’t move to stop him when he puts the pan down beside him and gets to his feet.

“It’ll only get worse if you ignore it, Mr. Hargrove.” She warns.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Billy mutters, but he doesn’t have the energy to put any heat behind his words, so it doesn’t do much to wipe that stupid sympathetic look from her face. He grabs his jean jacket and leaves, shoving the door open with enough force that it slams back against the wall.

Despite his repeated denial, Billy knew who was responsible for this fucking mess.

Steve Harrington.

With his perfect hair and his stupid fucking Bambi eyes, lighting up every goddamn room he strode into with those long legs of his. Jesus… How could Billy ever have stood a chance?

Just thinking of him brought a tickle to the back of Billy’s throat. He suppresses a cough into his fist as he stomps down the hallway, now empty due to everyone else having gone home for the day. Except Billy, who of course couldn’t fucking breathe after gym class today after getting a little too rough with Steve.

It hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary, but something about the way Steve elbowed Billy away, how he barked at him to give him some breathing space, yelled at Billy to fuck off already—it had Billy’s chest acting up.

He held out for most of the class, fighting against the fucking petals that were pushing their way up through his fucking esophagus by beating at his chest, shouting to clear his airways, but then in the showers, Steve had avoided him completely. Had somehow managed to slip and out of the stalls without Billy noticing, depriving him of their usual naked back and forth banter that Billy had come to look forward to.

It was one thing for Steve to hate him, but it was another thing entirely for Steve to be indifferent toward him. That was way fucking worse.

The sting of rejection quickly turned to a coughing fit, worse than any he had experienced before. Like he’s hacking up a fucking lung. A few of the other boys had asked him, ‘you okay man?’ or, ‘should we get the coach?’, and worst of all, ‘oh shit is that blood?’

Billy was barely able to shove his legs back into his jeans and shoulder one of his classmates out of his way before he stumbled into the nurse’s office.

Fat lot of good that did him…

He’s gotta pick up Max. He can’t afford to hang around and talk about his pathetic, one-sided love with a complete stranger anyway. Billy leaves the school, gets into his car, puts the windows down and cranks the music as loud as he can stand it, and he tries very hard not to think about Steve and this ever growing thing that’s taken root inside of his chest, steadily consuming him from the inside out.

Christ, who knew he was such a fucking romantic…

[xreaderbooks]

Paradise on Earth (19)

Chapter: 19. Trapped

Pair: JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader

Summary: The hunt for the cross continues as it's stolen from the pogues, y/n and her friends go on a chase to save it, and now Sarah.

Warnings: language, violence, car accidents, kidnapping, not fully proofread

Word Count: 2.5k

Links: Wattpad - AO3 - Playlist

Chapter 18 - Series Masterlist - Navigation - Chapter 20

The next few hours were a blur, everything happened so fast, you couldn’t process it through the tears and anxiety. Pope had fallen, and the cross came soon after- you all successfully dodged it, but as you were figuring out what to do with the cross and how to carry the heavy-ass pure gold cross, Pope had an allergic reaction to the wasps that stung him.

JJ’s cousin Ricky came in clutch giving him a pediatric dose of epinephrine, it had everyone freaking out for a couple half an hour on whether or not he was going to make it. Thankfully he was revived but unfortunately because of how hyped up he was due to the side effects, he insisted and driving and crashing Kie’s dad's truck straight into an oak tree.

So much for him ripping the ears off of everyone inside of the car. 

After everyone safely exited the car John B tried stopping him from getting run over by a semi, you noticed the person driving the truck and the person in the passenger seat as Rafe and Renfield who were driving from the direction of the church.

It was gone.

Pope was pissed as hell but coming back to the church and not seeing that cross there had lit a fire of determination in him. You all went straight to the Chateau for the Twinkie and drove back to the road where the accident happened.

“Oh shit!” Kie groaned. “They found the truck.”

Several police cars blocked off the road where it was, John B had no other choice but to stop as Shoupe approached the van.

“Good evening, Officer,” John B squinted as the cop pointed the flashlight into the car.

“Sheriff,” He corrected.

“Speed kills, huh,” John B joked about the scene of the totaled truck.

“I pulled the tags and I know whose truck that is,” Shoupe pointed the flashlight through the driver's seat window and to the back of the truck where Kie was sitting behind the passenger seat in a ball, hiding from view. “Hey, Kie! You drop your weed pen back there?”

“Found it,” Kie gave Shoupe a thumbs up with a weak smile.

Pope who was behind John B’s seat, spoke up between the headrest and the door, “Sheriff, I just wanna say that this is all my fault. She had nothing to do with this, I take a hundred percent full responsibility.”

“Nothing to do with it, huh?” Shoupe scoffed, “You wanna try that again? Your parents reported the truck missing four hours ago and the keys were missing from the house, I’m taking you home or I can pull you all in for leaving the scene of an accident.”

You exhaled stressfully and rubbed your temples, not one day, not one day without a break.

“I gotta deal,” Kie gave you a ‘save me’ look. You sent her a pitiful smile knowing that it wasn't going to go down well for her. “Hit me up later and make sure I’m still alive.”

The rest of you would have to retrieve the cross without her.

The truck that carried the cross had just pulled up to the Cameron house as the five of you did.

“How much you wanna bet Rafe has the cross inside that truck right now?” Pope comments as you all peer over the concrete wall to get a better look at what was going on.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Sarah walks in the direction of the front gate. John B goes after her and catches her before she’s gone.

“Jesus Christ,” You facepalm and lean your head against the wall. You hear Pope and JJ make their own comments in protest of wasting time for declarations of love.

Pope whispers to him as John B limps back to you, JJ, and Pope with a dopey smile, “Do you want me to perform your vows while you’re at it?”

“Did you say ‘be safe’?” JJ asks.

“Could you take any longer?” You drawl out sarcastically. Part of you was actually bitter about your own love life and part of you was concerned about the time frame for whatever Sarah had planned, “What is she doing?”

You could make out her figure sneaking around the truck and shrugging, you could see barely hear her whisper something about keys. You whisper shout for her to come back but she points to the inside. All of you try signaling for her not to but she goes in anyway.

“I told her not to go inside,” John B says.

“Do the birdcall,” Pope tells him, though you're not sure that would help since she was already through the glass doors.

John B cups his hands around his mouth to make Coo-Coo sound but with his hesitation, it sounded nothing like it was supposed to.

“That is not what a bird sounds like,” You judge.

“You try doing something better then.”

“Too late, dipshit, she’s already inside. Maybe next time I’ll do a detailed demonstration for you.”

“Whatever, I’m going over,” John B uses the strength from his arms to push himself up from the top of the wall but a horn was honking from the street. You turn and see the headlights from a golf cart roll up.

“Uh, excuse me, can I help you?” An old white man with a shotgun stops where the four of you were caught in the act of going halfway up the wall. He cocked the gun and chuckles, “I got double-aught bucks in this thing, so, I can’t miss.”

He steps out of the slow vehicle and warns you all to get off the wall, you slip down it with your hands in the air, anxiety creeping in. What if he called the cops? What if he made you all confront Rafe? What if he shot you?

“Sir, It’s not what it seems,” JJ speaks up beside you.

“You all are on the wrong side of the island.” He keeps the long gun pointed at you as he tells you all to get on your knees, “I think I’m gonna call the police.”

“You don’t have to do that, sir,” JJ pleads calmly.

“I’ll decide for myself what I need to do.”

“Sir, Can I just talk to you for a minute?” You stutter a little nervously, there was a chance he would believe a girl more than he would the boys, so you would have to fabricate a story. “Just to explain.”

You get up from your knees slowly, John B tugged at your flannel but you ignored him. “I know what this looks like, but I promise this is all a misunderstanding. We look like some derelict kids from the cut but we weren’t that to Mr. Cameron, he gave me and my brother a job, I did some housework for him and his wife, and my brother did some yard work along with my boyfriend, and our friend. See I’m just going along with their plan to get an associate of theirs, s-some row flowers for his memorial.”

He lets his gun falter, “Now why are you three boys letting this poor girl do all the talking?”

JJ struggles to get himself up from the kneeling position as you back up into his place, “Sorry, sir, you’re right. She’s right, we’ve just had such a hard time dealing with his death-”

You tune out the story he tells the old man who let his guard down with every lie that slipped out of his mouth. In the time JJ came up with a ridiculous tale about where the flowers you were all going to ‘plant for Mr. Cameron’ came from and why it was relevant, Sarah had still not come back. You were getting antsy but you couldn’t let it show in front of the man that was eating up JJ’s lie.

“You smell that right?” JJ asks the man.

He sniffs, “What is that, night-blooming jasmine?”

“No, that’s more like,” JJ thinks about it for a second, he knows nothing about flowers or plants. “Natural Viagra.”

Your eyes widen, “Okay!”

The boys beside you try to get JJ to stop now but the old guy seemed genuinely interested which concerned you more.

“One sniff and bam!” JJ claps his hands, “It’s hammer time you know what I’m saying. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Your jaw drops, one of his arms goes around your shoulders pulling you closer and the other leads the man to his golf cart, like a couple walking out the last guest from a dinner party. John B grabs your wrist and pulls you from under JJ.

“We’ll be quiet, alright, and we’ll finish up here. I’m so sorry to bother you.”

“See that you do,” He seats himself back into the cart and drives off muttering to himself. “I gotta get myself some of that.”

Once he was out of view, JJ hops over the wall, “Let’s go.”

“What the fuck,” You whisper to yourself.

“What the fuck was that for real,” John B helps you climb over before going himself. The four of you hide behind the bushes trying to get a peek or a sign of Sarah anywhere. Rafe comes out of the same doors Sarah once went in.

John B surges forward only to be pulled back by Pope and JJ. “What do we do then?”

“He might have the gun so what’s in our favor?” JJ snaps his fingers to think, “The element of surprise, that’s what’s in our favor right now.”

“He’s leaving, there's not much you can do there,” You tell them. Pope whispers something and seconds later he’s running after the truck and jumping onto whatever he can grab on. “Has everyone lost their minds?”

“We got the house now that Rafes gone, let's storm the fort.”

Noise from the front door caught your attention, Rose and Wheezie had Sarah’s arms around their shoulders. If Sarah wasn’t moving they must have done something to her to knock her out.

“Let’s go!” John B shouts at you and JJ, running after Rose’s car.

“This is so fucked,” You run to the Twinkie to follow after them because there was no way they were going to get Sarah out. John B and JJ were running back as you slowed down for them to get in.

~~~

The sun rose for the next day as John B tailed Rose’s car to where they loaded up ships with cargo. You parked in a semi-discrete area and snuck behind the slow-moving semi that stopped for a security check.

While the guard was busy talking to Rafe, you, JJ, and John B snuck through the metal gate and weaved through large materials meant to fix or be put on the ships. You hide behind some large rusted metal thing that you couldn’t name, watching Rafe proudly talk to the other guys around him.

“God, I hate that guy,” JJ exhaled.

You shifted your attention to where Rose’s car was parked, Sarah was being brought out of the car.

“JJ, we gotta come up with a plan,” John B anxiously stares at the boy. Once again, it was you three alone, probably the worst trio combined. JJ with his plans, John B with the follow-through, and you with the backup in case anyone (meaning either of them) needed it.

“I know, I’m working on it. If we get over to that barge, we go over, we’ll have to get into the water though.”

“That’s fine,” John B replied.

“Then we’re gonna be sitting ducks.”

“It’s like you say you’re thinking but then what comes out of your mouth has no thought behind it at all.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t have time to get it approved by you first, princess.”

“Apology not accepted, you’re plan sucks, and Sarah’s gonna die,” You clutch your head. “How about-”

“Howdy,” A feminine voice comes up randomly behind you and you almost jump out of your skin.

“Holy shit, girl I almost bitch slapped you to yesterday!” Your hands that were clutching your head were now on your chest. You hug Kie in relief at seeing her alive and present despite the shit her parents gave her.

She chuckled, “Had you scared shitless.”

“How’d you guys find us?” You saw Pope come from the same place she did.

“Geo-located your phone.”

“Smart.”

Observing the state of Pope, John B asked what happened.

“Rafe, Round 3.”

“You freaking kidding me?” JJ grabs Pope to face him but he moves out of his hold.

“This was a tie, is that the cross?”

“Yep, they’re holding Sarah hostage,” John B informs Pope and Kie of the new development.

“We gotta get on that boat, but first we gotta get past the goon squad.”

“Okay, come on,” John B waves over for everyone to follow him but there was no plan. Pope doesn’t move from his spot.

“I have an idea, just trust me.”

John B tries to stop him but Pope reassures him that he’ll meet up with the group after. You just hoped he didn’t get caught in whatever he was planning but then again Pope was smart, he wouldn’t do anything to create attention to himself.

Not a second after you thought about how calculated he was, there was an explosion in the direction where he went. All the crew members bolted to the explosion sight.

“What the hell was that?” You ask Pope who panted from his running.

“That container’s going on the ship, we can get in that way,” He pointed. Thanks to his huge distraction, the path where he was directing you all, was free.

“Poopy, you badass!” You pat him on the shoulder, hyping yourself up to make a run for the said container.

At the entrance of the metal box, JJ pauses, “Did we think this through?”

Pope nods assuredly, “Yes, this is the plan.”

“That’s a trap right there, you see that right?” He points to the container that Pope already climbed on, “We can’t get out once we get in.”

Now that JJ was mentioning it, he was right. This container was going on a ship, God knows where, if you got caught it could be jail time or whatever the punishment was for sneaking onto a ship illegally. Not to mention if Rafe or Rose found you, that would be an execution itself.

“You guys don’t have to come,” John B has a hand on JJ’s shoulder and a hand on yours.

“Right, this is our fight,” Pope agreed.

Doubt clouded your loyalty, but you shook it away. Your friend was on the ship, your brother was going, and Pope needed the support to get the cross. It wouldn’t be fair to leave them now after all you had been through together.

JJ looks to Kie, “Nothing to lose?”

“Nothing to lose.”

John B climbs into the container, Pope helps Kie in.

“All in?” JJ climbed into where Pope once was and reached out a hand for you to take. You slipped your hand into his, letting him pull you up.

Your bodies almost colliding from the momentum of you coming up, your faces inches apart in a second your eyes flicker to his lips, “All in.”

“Y/n, JJ, let’s go!” John B shouts. The sound of heavy footsteps that were no doubt the crew member returning to their posts. You and your friends hide at the very end of the container, behind the dozens of stacked crates.

You saw the sunlight fade as the worker closes the container shut.

~~~

One more chapter to go til season 2 is complete!!

Chapter 20

Taglist:

@jbassettjmaybank - @deanwherescas - @thtbwltts - @nerdypartytrashpsychic - @random-girl-army - @wisegirlies - @instabull - @sexyfoxlady - @bubs-world - @sdawn03 - @mendesclines - @obx-pogues-4-life - @mentalforfics - @p-prettybitch - @namacissi - @dczedhee - @inkandpen22 - @royalavenger - @ayeitsjustmee - @80strashbag - @onlyangel-444 - @freds-slut - @poppet05 - @itsjuststaticnoises - @ahnneyong - @lovepizza567 - @jasminfelling - @rana03 - @loki-loveer - @rana030 - @lostinatimeline - @boldlypessimistic - @clinelyn - @a-j-stuffs - @yunhobug - @syd223sworld - @strawberry--fawn - @mysticalavenuecheesecake - @itsmytimetoodream - @natashtessabeth12 - @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles

(If your name is crossed that means tumblr wont let me tag you)

[verdemoun]

Hiii I wanted to ask what you think happens to Micah in the timewarp au cause modern Micah is such an enigma and it's so funny to me. Do you think he's coping well with modern times? Or does he just respawn and immediately tries robbing a mc Donald's or smth. Could def see him doing Florida man throwing an alligator through a Wendy's window type shit or just being the Wendy's employee getting the alligator thrown at him.

Also speaking of Florida man do you have an idea of what state they live in currently in modern au? (I love hearing peoples takes on where in America they think rdr takes place, especially when they're talking about where they'd be in a modern au)

i am so conflicted because like. gang with memories and knowledge of what happens in the future.

arthur wants to kill micah. yes he's been thriving and has a happy life with hosea and bessie and the boys and being a part of isaac's modern life but imagine the guilt he would feel knowing he was dying anyway but if he'd killed micah in 1899 it would've literally saved lives and it might have meant the bureau never went after john in 1911. the absolute arthur 'blames himself for everything that ever happened' morgan would consider himself personally responsible for every life micah took/destroyed post 1899. and arthur has 8 years to plan. 8 years.

but i did let dutch live so why not micah. gotta give rat bastard man a of love

micah respawned in a denny's parking lot to the sight of arthur morgan with a baseball bat. no context. no understanding what's happening. it's late evening. there's street lights and neon signs and who fucking cares they immediately pick up where they left off in 1899 which is beating the living shit out of one another.

cut to them both bloody and bruised in holding cells at the local jail still hurling insults at each other while hosea is just standing there wondering what the actual hell he is meant to do.

said incident immediately landed micah on a list of people not allowed to be sold guns and it is like neutering a feral dog. the first time micah cries in his life is at a walmart being told he isn't able to buy a gun. even if the gang want nothing to do with him like they are getting a phone call sorry to interrupt your evening sir but there's an adult man throwing a tantrum on the floor

the gang are forced to admit it isn't morally correct to a) let micah loose unsupervised in modern era or b) leave him to fend for himself and die. micah ends up living in a trailer park. he embraces redneck culture. he eats so much fast food the servers will call for a welfare check if they haven't seen him in more than three days. he gets a job at a paintball center because damnit if he can't have a gun he will have gun-adjacent. he is the conservative dad-bod southern hick hero of teenage boys everywhere

what's really funny is isaac morgan's best friend (other than jack, obviously) is malachi bell who is a direct descendant of amos bell. because he has known isaac since elementary school: and young isaac did not understand his experiences of being murdered and reawakening in modern era were not universal: kai is fully aware of how the timewarp works ie sometimes he goes with isaac to visit grandpop hosea and there will be a very confused freshly warped outlaw sitting on the couch. the fucking phone call of 'hey remember how my family was super weird around you at the start because you look scarily like your grand uncle who kind of killed my dad and was murdered by my uncle GUESS WHO JUST TURNED UP'

micah is the best terrible uncle a kid could ask for and is honestly super attached to kai even though kai is his polar opposite in every way out of spite. kai goes to micah's trailer for dinner. says he's vegetarian. goes again and micah went through the effort of getting tofu. says he's allergic to soy. inherited all the bell snark and none of the tendency towards evil

micah and arthur in a fistfight at a barbeque while kai and isaac are both just standing there 'i'm sorry about my family'

an underappreciated micah fact is how much he cared about baylock. he would get the exact same level of giddy as the rest of the gang being around horses in modern era. while living in a trailer is not ideal for having a horse he does have a massive black 'looks like he could kill you but is actually a giant cuddle bear' bully-breed dog because as much as he was afraid of dogs (fight me) he is actually more afraid of being alone. his dog eats at the table with him. micah eats mcdonalds while his dog gets lovingly pan-seared steak.

his dog is a kill-shelter rescue named baymax and micah has no idea about disney movies and doesn't understand why people giggle at the name.

to the second point i am not american and have no idea wheeze but i think texas?? texas is where most people seem to think new austin is based on?? in rdr terms they're probably on the northern side of modern day blackwater like there's the bay to the east, mountains to the north and desert to the west. pls if there are any americans what fast food place would micah bell III dedicate his life to and what state should they be in

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

Steddie Flower Shop / Tattoo Parlor AU

I am so floored by the response! It is absolutely so fun that y’all want to read my silly stories! This is a relatively short update but I am working on the rest! Hoping to post the full story by Valentine’s and I might also post an AO3 link at some point if anyone would like that I Part One I Part Two I Also on AO3!

***

Chrissy and Eddie had been taking bets about what type of business was opening up across the way. Eddie’s guesses had run the gamut from hipster coffee shop to hipster hairdresser to hipster high-end taxidermy while Chrissy had more or less stuck with her original guess of a speakeasy style bar. Eddie was starting to close up shop for the day when some guy in an honest-to-god sweater vest and jeans ran over.

“It’s too late to place any orders today. Sorry if you need to apologize to your wife and 2.5 kids and forgot until the last minute.” Eddie had to admit the guy was pretty infuriatingly handsome. If you were in to normie core, that is.

“What? I’m not- okay, uhm. I’m actually here because I just rented the place across the way and I wanted to ask about setting up a recurring weekly arrangement?” Steve asked.

“What?” Eddie yelled over Judas Priest.

“It’s a wonder you can ever hear anything over all this noise.” Steve gestured towards the speaker.

Chrissy had overheard the exchange from the backroom and cut Eddie off before he could start ranting about real music, “Yes, we are interested in setting up a recurring weekly bouquet arrangement for our new neighbors, Eddie.” 

Chrissy turned back around to lower the speaker's volume and pulled Eddie and Steve into the shop and onto stools by the workbench Eddie uses for arranging. Eddie glared at her but they’d just lost one of their regular accounts to some online service that was apparently way cheaper than what De Lucas’ could offer.

“Sure. What were you thinking, dude?” Eddie asked Steve.

“Just something nice for our front desk. Not too big and maybe nothing that people are commonly allergic to? But I’ve seen the arrangements you load up for delivery and I trust your eye. I’m not a live flower expert.”

“Of course, big boy.” Eddie noticed Steve flush a little bit at the pet name. Eddie reached behind Steve to grab one of the flyers Chrissy had made for company floral services. He purposely invaded Steve’s space a little more than necessary just to see if he could get the guy to flush a little deeper.

“Uhm, thanks, man. I’ll get out of your hair since it’s late. Sorry.”

“I’ve got time for you now if you want to talk through anything,” Eddie couldn’t resist biting his lip a little bit. Steve was apparently very easy to ruffle and Eddie sure did love antagonizing his hipster neighbor. “Tell me a little bit about your place?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s a tattoo studio? Just me and my friend’s helping run the, like, business part of it.” Steve responded

“You tattoo?”

“Yeah. Really fucking well actually,” Steve pushed back. It seemed like Eddie had hit a nerve.

“Shouldn’t you have like at least one tattoo?” Eddie’s brain to mouth filter had apparently stopped working. He shouldn’t be actively shitting on a potential customer.

“Who says I don’t?” Steve answered with a wink. It was Eddie’s turn to feel a little faint as his imagination took a little too much creative liberty thinking about where Steve’s tattoo might be.

Thankfully, Chrissy took the awkward silence as an opportunity to step in and work with Steve to confirm what level of floral arrangement he was looking for, how often he wanted a new arrangement, and if he wanted pick up or delivery.

“I can stop by and pick them up. Wouldn’t want you to go through the trouble of adding me to your schedule since I’m just across the way. Any chance I could pick one up tomorrow around lunch time? My first client is coming at two.” Steve asked.

“Noon’s great, Steve!” Chrissy reached out to shake Steve’s hand while Eddie was still working on slowing his heart rate back to a reasonable rhythm.

“Amazing, thanks so much guys!” Steve called as he headed out of De Lucas’ and back across the street.

“Woah, Eddie. Truly a masterclass in both flirting and getting new clients. I should have taken notes,” Chrissy said once Steve had made it halfway into the road.

“Hey, fuck you.” 

“He speaks!” Chrissy patted Eddie’s head and added, “You’ll have to get better at interacting with him since you’ll be seeing each other once a week now.”

Eddie dramatically sighed and laid his upper body across the workbench, getting little pieces of flower refuse stuck in his hair.

“I’m so screwed.”

You wish, babe,” Chrissy cackled as she grabbed her bag and headed out for the day.

***

Part 4 now available here!

Taglist: @maya-custodios-dionach @eboyawstenn @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @thehumblefigtree @throwbackthrowaway @micheledawn1975

I think I caught everyone! I seriously am so genuinely amazed by the reception! 

[irisbleufic]

I’m feral for your 1973 fic. You’re deviling that minion like nobody else. I’m getting uneasy tho, like nothing can go this well for these loser4losers for this long…

Thanks, anon! I’m always happy to hear when a story is compelling to readers. I was explaining this in a comment response this morning—next chapter, #7, has the first uh-oh rollercoaster drop in it. Starts out sweet, but the first actual fuck-up on somebody’s part happens and it’s trouble in paradise time. And, to be fair, their behavior has been so staggeringly escapist and closed-off in their own bizarre bubble (as only they can do, let’s face it) that I’m amazed the surface tension has held for fully half the overall planned plot without popping sooner.

The thing that keeps making me laugh (affectionate, delighted, love you guys for this) is every other comment being like “Louis is haunting the narrative, yikes.” Louis can fuck with anybody he wants in my stories right now and have fun doing it. I may love Armand and Daniel, but I hope I’ve shown I don’t shy from letting them suffer. I’ll give just about anybody hell; my fictional faves can absolutely sit in the corner while somebody reads them for filth and/or exposes their damning backstories, it builds character.

(I have this weird combination of being allergic to unhappy endings, but also allowing for emotionally rock-bottom shit to happen in the third quarter of stories. Not narratively atypical by any means, but I feel like I get mean about it when that bad shit finally happens. Granted, nothing about this one will get as bad as the previous stand-alone set in Dubai. Midterms week stress broke me.)

[dyke-pollinator]

Im in the mood for a story

Im a little drunk and im in the mood to share a story with yall of when I was out living in Nevada. This was back in 2017 or so.

This story requires some backstory so please indulge me.

I was a crew leader, managing a group of 4-9 people ranging from 18-23 ( I was 24 at the time). Part of that meant helping them integrate into the new location they moved to (Reno, Nevada) despite living out of my car at this time.

One of my crew members, who I will call Shawn, was...... Interesting to say the least. He was a pretty interesting person, but was definitely way too interested in falling in love while on this job.

So while he was out with some other members on their off week, he confessed his feelings for another crew member who turned him down. He proceeded to seriously harm himself. So now, on my crew, I had to manage that shit and make sure he wasn’t a risk to himself. Because of course this motherfucker was on my crew and technically my responsibility.

Everything was basically fine. Shawn and the other member barely interacted and we were learning a lot about how to cut down trees safely.

During one of our hitches (time in the field) where we were building cattle fences on the border of Utah, this bitch decided he wanted to go for a walk. So idk if you know what the middle of no where Utah looks like but its basically the same as this for 100 miles in every directions 

Barely any geographic features. Insanely easy to get lost. 

We had a rule where if you were gonna split off from the group,  you had to let the crew lead (me) know, and you had to explicitly say where you were gonna go. He decided he wanted cell phone signal one night, and told no one where he was going.

He got lost. In the middle of the desert. I need you to understand how horrifying that is. There’s nothing out there. You can walk for 200+ miles (350km) in any direction and find literally nothing. Especially on the Nevada / Utah border. 

By 8pm we were all wondering where he was till a random person was like “Oh he went that was looking for signal”. Like wtf? Excuse me? We searched in the direction he went for like 4 hours before we called emergency services & our organization that was gonna send out reinforcements to help us look.

We parked our giant truck on the top on the highest hill around us, with our high beems on, and blared on the horn all night, hoping that he was going to find his way back to us. He never did.

We spent 38 hours looking for this person, and since we all knew his history, we legitimately thought he was dead.\

The next day we had the whole BLM (Bureau of Land Management) looking for him. They were about to call in the fucking helicopters.

Now, this next part is gonna sound like some bullshit I just made up but I stg it is true. My dumbass forgot to restock the first aid kit. My co-lead got stung by a bee / wasp while we were doing a grid search, and for the first time in his life, he had a major allergic reaction that none of the leftover meds we had would take down.

So we had to take him into town (an approximately 15 mile drive on back roads) and I did it since I was one of the few that was allowed to drive our trucks.

This motherfucker, Shawn, literally stumbled across the road while I was driving my co-lead into to town. Idk how the fuck he found this road. Idk how the fuck his timing was absolutely perfect. But we found him. After 56 hours when all of us thought he was already dead.

We would have NEVER found him if not for this random happenstance. Some divine power wanted this kid alive I swear. Its some of the most insane shit I have ever experienced.

And here’s the kicker: THIS HAPPENED ON THE 3RD DAY OF AN 8 DAY PROJECT AND THEY MADE ALL OF US FINISH OUR WORK INCLUDING THE DUDE THAT WAS LAST FOR THAT LONG

The moral is never trust Non-profit organizations. They dont give a fuck about you. 

And if yall wanna head this story from Shawn’s perspective just lmk I am happy to share it.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skeleton finds a tiny kitten in their yard. It's very angry, hissing and bolting to scare them, except the kitten is really really small and could not even scare a fly. How do they react?

Undertale Sans - Aaaw. He thinks it's cute but then realises a kitten this small shouldn't be outside all alone. He picks it up, the kitten screaming angrily and trying to claw his face, then he tries to search for a litter somewhere. If he finds nothing, he takes the kitten to a shelter to get adopted.

Undertale Papyrus - He wants to help the kitty, but he doesn't want to be bitten or scratched. He grabs a blanket and throws it on the small kitty before picking it up in a bundle. He then takes it to the vet to try and find it's owner if he has one, or put it up for adoption.

Underswap Sans - He grabs it by the neck and puts it back on the yard next door where he knows the rest of the litter is. He's a bit annoyed its mother had a new litter though. He will talk with the neighbour about neuteuring her. This can't keep going like this and Honey is allergic to cats!

Underswap Papyrus - That's a tiny weapon of massive destruction. Honey can't resist the call and picks it up to pet it. He regrets it when his bones starts to cover with red scratchy blotches as he's starting an allergy crisis. Well, he did that to himself... He tries to hide the kitten in his room but he can't really hide from Blue himself and seeing him, Blue quickly understands what happened. Blue will rehome the cat, despite Honey's pleading.

Underfell Sans - Oh hell no. He knows that the second Edge sees the kitten, it's not leaving the house and he's not adopting a second Doomfanger. He picks it up to throw it in a neighbour's garden, but then the kitten looks at him and starts to purr. Sh-shit. Red is frozen, hypnotised. Well. He's taking the cat home, but just for one night! Or two... Or 15 years...

Underfell Papyrus - The kitten is scratching and biting his fingers and Edge is just... in love. Madly. The kitten is too cute and he can't do anything to resist his cute little face. Guess he's a mom now. That's his baby, too late. Doomfanger is not really happy about the betrayal though, but Edge doesn't care. That's HIS baby.

Horrortale Sans - As soon Oak starts to pet it, the kitten stops being agressive and starts to purr. Oak purrs as well is response. Oak takes the baby home to bottle feed it until it's big enough to join the other barn cats of the farm. It's not the first time people throw kitten here after seeing there's a large colony of cats here.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's annoyed someone dumped another kitten here. All his cats are neuteured so it's not one of their kitten. Willow doesn't have the heart to give the kitten to a shelter though. He will raise it until it's independant and let him join the barn cats colony once neutered like the others. Maybe he should put signs to inform people he's not a cat shelter.

Swapfell Sans - He looks at the kitten. What the hell is he supposed to do of this? He's not a cat mom. Then why his maternal instinct is screaming him to mother that baby? He's not even a mom. That shouldn't happened to him! He was about to turn around but his legs decides otherwise and walked to the kitten. He picks it up and goes home. Guess that's his cat now. He doesn't even know how to raise cats.

Swapfell Papyrus - He gives a small part of his sandwich. Suddenly, five other kitten gets out of nowhere and embushes him. Well... Now what? He can't take all of them home... Right? ... Oh well. He's picking all the kitten and hides them in his room. Nox will never know. For a least 10 minutes as the kitten all escapes as soon as Nox comes in his room to ask something.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He hisses back. The kitten gets scared and runs away in fear, terrified. Here you go, that's how you do it. He's about to leave when suddenly a very pissed off Mama Cat jumps out of nowhere, going for his face, all claws out. To be continued...

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He takes the baby to a pet shelter as he can't keep it home with Wine. He's coming every day to see if they're fine and ends up adopting it a month later because the baby is too attached to him. His brother can throw a temper tantrum, he doesn't care. He loves the kitten.

[foap-enjoyer]

2023 Halloween funny moments.

Bit of a different kind of post than normal, but I just wanted to share with the world.

I answer my door each year on Halloween (In the UK) with my many, many animals (snakes, lizards, spiders, ect), and these are some of the best responses I've gotten to each animal this specific year:

With pictures!

So trigger warning for snakes/lizards/cockroaches/tarantulas.

Lizard (Bearded dragon) (adult) - Is that a gecko? - Oh mum look, it's a... it's... a dinosaur? - Oh wow, that's cool. It's a Komodo lizard thing, right? - Mum! Mum look! He has an armadillo-thingy! - Oh my teacher used to have one of those. It died, I think. - It licked me IT LICKED ME I'M GOING TO DIE - Oh my God it's ACE, HI ACE I KNOW YOU (People know my lizard more than me..)

~

Snake (Royal 'ball' Python) (adult) - Holy SHIT - Get that thing away FROM MEEEE - Why would you own one of those. Respectfully, Mr.. snake.. owner, sir? - That's one wicked worm my guy - Is it a boa constrictor? I know snakes really well. - I WANNA HOLD IT MUM CAN I HOLD IT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE - I like snakes. They like violence, like me. ("Oh, actually he's very shy and gentle...") I don't like this snake. - MUM IT'S THE SNAKE MAN! (I'm well known in these parts as the 'reptile man' haha)

~ Snake (Hognose snake) (adult) - Why can't I hold this snake? ("Because he's very mean. He eats children") *cries* ("Only bad children, I promise!") *cries harder* - He's ginger! Ewwww! - He's very small... But it's the personality that counts, hey mate? - It's a cornsnake! With a.. oh. It's nose is deformed. Was it inbred?

~ Tarantula (Nhandu Chromatus/Brazillian Red 'n' white) (adult) - FUCK NO. FUCK. NO. - PISS OF YA DAFT CUNT (To the spider, not me... I think?) - Is it fluffy? Like a dog, I mean. It looks spiky, like a hedgehog. - Can I hold it? ("No, I'm sorry, they're fragile) Wow I've been lied to I thought they were tough as hell. - You, yeah both of you, you've got issues. - It looks like a Tony or something. Is it called Tony? - That fuckers bigger than my face, you feed him fingers or something?

~ Tarantula (Brachypelma hamorii/Mexican red knee) (baby) - Oh my God... You know what? That's kind of cute. - Mum, can we get one? "Fuck no, Tyler." - It's... what exactly does it do ("Nothing?") well that's boring. - It at least looks cuter than the house-spider I let stay in the corner of my room. He's called Terry.

~ Madagascan hissing cockroaches (adults) - Why would you own these. - Oh these are those hissing ones... Why aren't they hissing? - It bit me ("It's just her legs holding on") damn gurl you got some daggers on your feet - Can I steal them - Can I eat them - Can I take a selfie with them? - What are their names? ("Oh they're named after Mario princesses-") DAMN where's Princess Peach? PEACH?? PEACH WHERE ARE YOU?! (Don't worry, he found Peach, Peach is the third one. Yes, I can tell them apart)

~

Just a small reminder that I am an actual professional with these animals and I don't recommend doing this for Halloween unless you know what you're doing and, more importantly, know your animal (especially with tarantulas!). I did not let any child or adult hold my tarantulas nor my hognose (They're venomous, even if it's a small dose, allergic reactions may occur), and I know my python well enough to know he'll never strike, same with my beardie.

These are, also, not the only animals I have. I have thirteen in total :)

Just a lil notice! All fun though! Hope you enjoyed!