#or if he gets really stuck he uses they/them which also pisses me off

[trashcandroid]

Apparently my mom shares trans memes on her facebook, which is… cool I guess? But she also still posts old pictures of me all the time

[quietwingsinthesky]

🌹:O

:3c

Lucifer doesn't care how the labcoats say it works; he knows there's no such thing as a clean break from a drift the minute the plug is pulled. Instead, Michael goes from a second consciousness beside his own to being dragged out of Lucifer the further Lucifer gets from him, both of them gripping tight to the connection until it slips, until it snaps, with a violent recoil that knocks Lucifer's brain out of alignment and reminds his legs that they don't work. His next step falls too fast, too heavily, and refuses to take his weight. It's only Michael, now only a voice outside of Lucifer's head yelling his name, catching him from behind that allows Lucifer to collapse to the floor with his dignity intact.

[autopsytableromance]

hey why did my manager unprompted tell me and like 3 other coworkers a story about how he had his dog terrorize her girlfriend for three hours while he took a nap and she hid in the car afraid like it was a funny story to tell.

[taffywabbit]

every time dilbert gets mentioned in a conversation/post i think about how hilarious it is that scott adams turned out to be such a deranged alt-right fuckwit, considering the fact that his comics indisputably radicalized me against capitalism as a kid and probably did so earlier than anything else

like there IS some pretty iffy stuff in dilbert for sure (particularly a lot of casual misogyny and xenophobia), and it definitely increased over time as the author got more edgy and self-important. i don't think i read anything from later than like 2003 and it was already starting to get pretty unreadable by then - LONG before he started openly being a turbo-racist podcaster weirdo. but the earlier stuff (especially before there were a lot of established recurring characters or running gags) was largely just a satirical cartoon focused on how corporations are evil and exploitative, and how you'd have to be completely detached from reality to truly enjoy working for them, and how trying to climb the ladder of success is a futile pursuit within a capitalist society where the upper class needs to keep pulling that ladder up behind them to keep the rest of us in our place and maintain their own status. it was basically vent art by a guy stuck working in mind-numbing desk jobs, who barely knew how to draw but just wanted to get his thoughts out and reach other people who were frustrated in the same ways he was. it's really weird but also fascinating to compare that to how it (and adams himself) ended up in the long run

i don't think it was particularly funny most of the time, and when it did have actual jokes, they were often pretty mean-spirited and/or cynical. i don't remember more than one or two specific bits from the comic that actually ever made me laugh, and i read a LOT of them as a kid (my grandpa had a massive collection of newspaper comic compilation books at his house that he'd let me look through and borrow stuff from - this is also how i discovered garfield and calvin & hobbes). but i DO remember having it instilled in me from an early age that there was nothing really exciting or praiseworthy about grinding your life away for a company that profits off your skilled labor and gives you pennies in return - which is especially noteworthy considering i was also raised by mormons, who are famously all about that "nobility in suffering" and "work your way to heaven" type bullshit. i'm genuinely unsure how this happened

anyways i think scott adams would probably piss his pants and explode if he ever took a break from peddling his psychic penis hypnosis and killer burrito podcasts long enough to seriously think about any of this stuff. (and i hope he does. it would be funnier than anything he's ever written.)

[eternalera]

I'm making an analysis of this scene because fuck it, it means sm to me

so basically the scene im talking about is the one above and why (because fuck you l like adam and lute) it means so much to me

first off when do we actually see adam smile and im not talking about when he's being an asshole to charlie or making some unfunny sex joke. I'm talking about when he looks genuine.

Like he looks actually happy, not entertained but happy because thats what it is with charlie. He's smiling because he's entertained with her reactions and how pissed he's making her.

Whenever we see him smile it has this almost evil feel to it (whether that be with the teeth in the mask that he wears or not although it probably is... i'll get to that later). It feels like he's meant to be the villain. He's meant to be someone you're meant to hate. So why in this scene does it make you feel bad for him and lute? (almost depending on the person cause yes i know some of you jumped up with joy at this, i aint judging)

it makes you feel bad because there's something human in this scene whether we like it or not. that also comes with the removal of their masks. we've never seen adam without his mask so him losing it in this scene provides us with the sense that 'hey hes still human' he's not some eldritch being sent from hell/heaven. he's a guy.

this also comes with the removal of lutes mask. we see her genuine emotion. we actually see her being to cry something that honestly seems almost out of character for her seeing as she's pretty much that one character whos like 'fuck it lets power through this'

this also is similar to adam smiling cause it shows you that in the end he wasn't a total asshole.

but back to the masks. the masks make them have pretty sharp looking teeth which is something that we associate with sharks or some sort of predator. yet removing the teeth (actually adam doesnt even smile with his teeth) you suddenly get a lot more of a human feeling

they dont feel like a villain anymore (even though thats what they are) they feel like a person. it doesnt make him feel like a threat anymore so you have an actual ability to feel bad for him.

but moving on (i ramble a lot so this may not stay on track but its fine :D ).

our last scene of adam in this entire show (im pretty sure like yknow... direct scene) is him smiling. him showing genuine human emotion. because whether or not you guys wanna admit it adam was the first human, and he does have feelings that pertain to humans. so why have this be our last view of him? of him being quite literally beaten down.

well personally i feel like this is because the show wants us to see him as lute sees him. she saw him (as from what ive gathered) as a genuine friend. she actually liked his company and liked hanging around him.

so this pushes her idea and avenging adam or getting revenge for his death. if we didnt have this scene her just getting upset at lilith and taking charge randomly and getting just randomly mad at the hotel would be kinda... eh.

like it wouldnt make for that good of a story.

but with our last moments of adam being him smiling at lute it shows us basically something else. that he cared, for what? we dont really know but he cared for something because its clear that the extermination failed and adams dying. hes fucking dying something he seemed so upset over two seconds ago screaming and shouting how he shouldnt die or whatever

so its most likely that he cared for lute making this scene all the much sadder. besides its the only thing we can assume seeing that lute was the last thing that he saw before passing on.

also ive seen theories that make a lot of sense with lute being the only one who stuck it out with adam till the end. lilith left him, eve was created from his fucking rib and yet she most likely left him. so he probably died pretty damn along the first time around

so lute being there for him and showing that she cared for him and that she still cares for him probably meant a lot. most likely because she stuck around until his death, she stuck around till the end which once again, he died alone the first time and dying with someone with you the second probably means a lot

anywaysssss yeah thats it byeeee

[klaus-littlestwolf]

(The drawings/tattoos that are used to illustrate the tattoos the boys get in this story are in no way mine and I do not take credit for them in any way (there’s a reason I’m a writer, I can’t draw to save my life 🤣). They are only used to show what the boys wanted tattooed on them by their mate. Credit where Credit is due)

Seeing them was odd, it always had been. It was very rare that I was on the boardwalk after the sun went down and when I was I always had someone with me who walked me to my car, and always freshly after sunset. I knew the boardwalk was a dangerous place at night and honestly, I preferred to avoid it, even if the night life is more fun for everyone.

Unfortunately I had to take this shift for a coworker for the rest of the week at least, and was stuck here until the Tattoo shop closed at 2am, and the only reason I’m not complaining is because people seem much more willing to tip better at night. The Lost Boys were a biker gang, and while I couldn’t deny that they are attractive and that they look like a lot of fun, I also knew better. They parked their bikes across from the shop every night, from what I could tell they enjoy pissing off Max, the video store owner, though I don’t know why.

I tried very hard not to make eye contact with any of them, just not looking up at them at all as I finished my tattoo, which was a pinup of a mermaid, and covered it up with plastic wrap, quickly checking the guy out and accepting my 30 dollar tip before shutting the register on my finger which instantly made me yelp in pain and see a trickle of blood coming from my finger. Thankfully it was only a little cut and it wouldn’t hinder my work as I sucked off the blood and quickly disinfected it, wrapping a tight bandaid around it. Just as I moved to my station to clean everything my eyes flickered up as if by instinct and caught all 4 of the boys staring at me intently which startled me but I quickly looked away and tried to calm my racing heart by getting rid of the inky water at my station. Just as I was about to put my ink away and read my book I heard footsteps walk into the front.

‘Hello, welcome to Ink-Well Tattoo Shop, if you’d like to look at my books they’re on the shelf.’ I told them, just turning around as I finished talking and coming face to face with the bleach blond leader that had been staring at me only a moment ago.

‘Ink-Well…is that a reference to an ink container people used to have on their desks or how good you are at your job?’ He asked…softly? I had always imagined their voices to be deep and dark, especially his, but while it was deep it was also gentle, at least while speaking to me right now it was but I could tell that soft voice wasn’t always so soft.

‘I think you’re the first person to prove me wrong, the owner said, “Everyone knows what an inkwell is”…no one knows what it is. And personally, I would describe my abilities much better than “well”. I’m incredible, do you know what you want today, sir?’ I asked, moving around him only to find the dark haired one right behind him and I realized how tall he really is as I almost slammed my face into his naked chest. I looked around, seeing the other two beside my chair and I took a deep breath. ‘Which one of you is getting inked today?’ I asked and the twisted sister look-alike jumped up excitedly.

‘Oh! Me! I want to do it!’ He seemed to be begging which was a strange thought as the leader nodded and he jumped to sit in the chair.

‘Okay, I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.’ I held out my hand and he took it in his own, pulling me closer before kissing my hand tenderly which made my blood rush to my face. The idea that these boys are soft and sweet and gentle in any way shape or form is really screwing with me. Their presence had always been a tad bit scary with the vibe they gave off, sexy or not (and they definitely are), but for the first time that I’m seeing them it’s like they’re not projecting dangerous vibes and it was a comfort in this situation being alone with all of them.

‘I’m Paul. This is Marko, Dwayne and you met David. Y/n, I like that name.’ He flirted and I rolled my eyes, handing him a book full of images of my work.

‘I’m glad, do you know what you want to get Paul?’ I asked, and he smiled as he looked at my work, all of them now watching as he flipped through the pages.

‘I want a vampire bat on my chest. Are you able to do that?’ He questioned, looking up at me as Marko took the book and I nodded, sitting in my seat beside him.

‘Were you looking for it to be realistic, like a portrait? Because if you want something like that it’s a 6-7 hour minimum piece and I would need you to come back during the day-‘

‘Oh, we can only be here at night, I want something smaller anyway. Not cartoony but-‘

‘You want a badass vampire bat, I get you. I can definitely do that. How big are you looking to get it?’ He jumped to pull off his jacket which jingled with all the stuff he had hanging off of it before stripping off his tank top.

‘Like maybe, this big?’ He showed me the area of his chest he wanted covered and I nodded.

‘Okay, let me draw that up and we’ll see if you like it.’ It was a relatively small tattoo and he watched, leaning over the chair as I sketched it out and he was smiling the whole time, staring at me.

‘You’re really pretty, has anyone told you that?’ He asked and I rolled my eyes.

‘Surf Nazis say shit every day-though they usually go with “hot”, “sexy”, “great rack”. Things like that, pretty is a new one though, thank you.’ I knew my face was red as he watched me draw, Marko suddenly beside me, setting a chair near Paul’s feet.

‘They bother you a lot, Angel?’ He wondered and I shrugged, my face darkening even more as he called me that.

‘All day long, they’re probably the most annoying customers so my boss takes all of them since they started getting a bit too comfortable and handsy with me and the other girl. I have her evening closing shift for the week so, if they show up I get to tell them to “fuck off” which is awesome.’ I joked and they laughed along with me.

‘Well, we’ll need to make sure they don’t bother you anymore, won’t we boys?’ It was the first time David spoke again and I looked up to see him watching me draw over my shoulder.

‘Fuck yeah, no one’s gonna be bothering our Princess.’ Paul cheered and it was weirdly comforting to hear that they wanted to protect me.

‘Please, just leave it alone? They don’t know I’m working nights now so it’s all fine, and I’ll only be doing it for the week. What do you think? Do you think he looks mean enough?’ I asked, showing Paul my drawing.

‘Princess, that’s incredible! It somehow looks cute and vicious…like Marko!’ He teased, getting punched in the chest immediately.

‘Okay, punch each other all you’d like outside, but if you make his skin swell where I need to ink then I’ll hit you myself.’ I told Marko, moving to make a stencil for the tattoo that Paul wanted, nearly running into Dwayne again, who just watched me.

‘Don’t mind him, he’s quiet but honestly, he’s the nicest of all of us…usually.’ David spoke and I smiled, quickly making the stencil.

‘Would you tattoo me tomorrow night?’ A new deep voice asked and I looked up to see it had been Dwayne. I paused to pick my chin up from the floor at the sound of his sexy deep baritone voice before shaking off and answering him.

‘Of course. Do you know what you want done, because I can do anything you want but depending on the style you want I might recommend a coworker. Say you wanted Japanese, I would recommend Kevin, he is fucking killer at that stuff and if you want anything American Traditional he is bomb at it.’ I had said this because of the American Traditional rose tattoo I could see peeking out on his side though he quickly shook his head.

‘I want you. I want something like this.’ he showed me the dreamcatcher piece I had put in my book and I smiled.

‘This is one of the best tattoos I ever did, and it was so much fun! Do you want it that size?’ He nodded his head.

‘Yes, but a bit more along the Native American type style? I’d like it to look like it’s braided together…could you do that?’ He looked unsure but I just kept smiling.

‘Of course I can! Let me draw a couple of things up tonight for you and you can see what you like best tomorrow. I’m sure I can give you something perfect!’ For the first time the corners of his mouth turned up and he smiled down at me-his smile was hot cute.

‘I know you can Babygirl.’ I was startled but after hearing Marko and Paul I realized that they seem to have a thing for nicknames so I ignored it.

‘Alright Paul, stencil is done.’ I spoke, sitting back down beside him. Most of his chest hair was in the center of his chest so I didn’t need to shave where he wanted the tattoo before placing the stencil and squeezing out the inks I would need. ‘Are you ready, rockstar?’ I asked him and he grinned as I called him that.

‘Hell Yeah Princess! Ink me up!’ We chatted as I tattooed him, him and Marko keeping me engaged with the conversation but I noticed David and Dwayne off on their own and speaking seriously for a while. The tattoo took about an hour, maybe a bit more before I was finished, turning off the machine and wiping his chest down.

‘What do you think?’ I waited for his reaction after handing him a mirror to see it more clearly and he turned it away from me instantly, seeming uncomfortable before looking down at his chest instead of at the reflection and grinning at the new ink on his body.

‘Princess! This is amazing!’ He exclaimed, placing the mirror face down and moving to hug me.

‘Ah-Ah! It’s sensitive! Don’t you dare destroy my work!’ I warned, turning to lay some plastic wrap over it and tape it down after David and Dwayne looked at it.

‘You’re really talented. I’m gonna have to go after Dwayne.’ David told me, watching as I cleaned up.

‘You’ll have to go the next night cause Dwayne’s is going to take me until closing at least…what time can you get here tomorrow?’ I asked him.

‘I’ll be here right after the sun goes down, I promise.’

‘Okay, so that’s about 8. I’ll be sure my last client will be done by then. Where do you want it, by the way?’ He opened his jacket, showing me the right side of his chest and making me blush. ‘Got it. I’ll have a few options for you tomorrow. For now, Paul, that’ll be 45.’ I finished putting everything away as it was now 10 minutes after closing time.

‘Here you go Princess, be safe getting home, you hear?’ He warned and I nodded, Paul, Marko and Dwayne walking out and leaving me with David for a moment and I froze under his intense stare.

‘Paul is right you know…you really are beautiful.’ He complimented, his gloved hand holding my chin for a moment before walking out and letting me shut the gate to the front before realizing Paul had given me a 100 dollar bill which is a 55 dollar tip…maybe I can like these boys after all.

What I didn’t know was, as I walked out the back door and locked it once the place was all clean, I was being watched. I made my way down the boardwalk, grabbing a burger and fries, along with a coke, shoving the food in my bag and sipping my soda as I walked off the boardwalk and all the way home.

Unlike every other night I had walked in the dark before, I felt…safe? I wasn’t looking around like a crazy person waiting to get jumped, I just walked home and crashed into bed.

I live in an apartment with a roommate, Justin, who is always out at his girlfriends (whoever that is this week) which left me alone most of the time and I loved it. I put in a video I had rented from the video store next door earlier that day, it was a new horror movie, Hellraiser. Strange premise, awesome movie.

That’s how I fell asleep that night, around 3:30 am, and all the while 4 sets of yellow eyes watched from the trees outside.

I got to work the next night at 6 as my boss left and set my sketchbook on my table, taking 2 quick tattoos before telling the last walk-in that I didn’t have time, knowing as the sun began to set Dwayne would be coming for his tattoo and I was excited to see which one he picked. I had set up everything I would need and just as I was scheduling a tattoo for a coworker to do tomorrow for a walk-in, I heard the rumble of bikes coming down the boardwalk making me smile. ‘Okay, Kevin will take you tomorrow at noon, is that alright?’ I asked the annoyed girl who clearly just wanted her tattoo now.

‘Still don’t get why you can’t just take me now.’ She bitched and I fought to not roll my eyes as 4 sets of heavy boots stomped through the front.

‘I can’t take you now because I’m tattooing him now. Your appointment is for noon tomorrow.’ She turned and as she saw the boys she quickly ran out the front and was gone, startling me. ‘I should employ you as security here from now on.’ I teased, grabbing my book and walking over to my chair.

‘We can do that for you at night.’ Marko agreed, a grin on his face which seemed to always be grinning honestly.

‘Well I’m only working here for the week at nights so you won’t see me after that-‘

‘No! You need to keep working nights Angel, what are we supposed to do without you here?’ Marko complained.

‘Come on, the night life is more fun anyway Princess!’ I rolled my eyes, opening my book.

‘I’ll think about it. Okay, this is the first one I did, I went simple cause I didn’t know how detailed you wanted everything. Usually I put in too much detail and people hate it.’

‘It’s nice, but I was hoping for something more intricate.’ He told me and I smiled.

‘Okay, I went a little bigger with this one, but my personal favorite is this one.’ I showed him the third one and his eyes widened. ‘I researched some Native American dream catchers and tried to make it as real as I could…do you like it?’ He nodded his head slowly and I was worried for a moment.

‘It looks like the one my Ma made me when I was a kid…it’s perfect Babygirl, thank you.’ I was touched by that.

‘This is why I love my job, you can tattoo memories for people that they get to keep for a lifetime. Don’t thank me yet though, not until it’s done, I already made the stencil for it, I just knew you would pick this one! Take off your jacket.’ I told him, grabbing the stencil and looking at Paul. ‘Let me see how it’s healing rockstar.’ He hesitated for a moment before pulling his shirt up and I was stunned. ‘Holy shit!’ I stood, moving to him and touching his chest. ‘You…you heal fast don’t you?’

‘Way fast, it looks great Princess.’ He pecked my cheek before sitting next to Marko and I moved back to my chair, removing my jacket and getting ready to place the stencil. ‘Damn girl! You are tatted up!’ I tried to stop the blush that came in but I couldn’t, smiling as they all inspected my skin which had both of my sleeves done.

‘Yeah, I don’t know any tattooers who don’t have tattoos, and if you find one, don’t go to them.’ I teased, peeling the stencil off and turning on my machine to begin inking the shirtless God.

‘I need food, you guys want anything? Dwayne? Angel?’ Marko offered a little later, just as I was finishing the outlines.

‘I wouldn’t mind a coke.’ I told him and he grinned, jumping to go get food with Paul behind him. ‘How are you feeling Dwayne? Okay?’

‘I’m fine, how are you?’ He countered and I rolled my eyes.

‘I’m trying to make sure you’re not getting dizzy or are gonna pass out on me, you’re still as a statue and barely breathing. Don’t be a smartass.’

‘I’m fine, I promise. You have beautiful eyes…’ he mumbled and I just blushed, beginning to detail the braided base before moving to the feathers.

I finished the tattoo just before 2 and it came out perfectly, prompting me to hand him the mirror which he grabbed as Paul had and turned it away from me though I could swear it looked like he didn’t have any reflection at all. ‘Alright, you’re all finished. Is it what you wanted?’ I asked and he nodded, looking down at his chest.

‘You have no idea how perfect this is. Thank you Babygirl.’ He leaned down and kissed my cheek as I rang him up and I was once again bright red.

‘Look at that cute little blush!’ Marko exclaimed and he and Paul laughed like crazy. ‘Everything you do is just so cute Angel!’ He was teasing me and I wanted to hate it but I didn’t, it filled my stomach with butterflies and I was feeling awful about how badly I wanted to jump all of them.

‘Shut up.’ I grumbled and began closing up, all of them moving to hug me in one way or another.

‘We’ll see you tomorrow night Kitten.’ David told me and it felt almost like a warning, daring me not to be here which made me excited.

For the rest of the week they were there, David and Marko both getting tattoos of their own before Paul decided to get a bigger piece, dedicating a whole sleeve to his rockstar image which I found cute, starting with a killer electric guitar and lyrics from the song Lost in the Shadows. That next night was my last night on the boardwalk, going back to the dayshift the next day which they complained about loudly, insisting I switch my schedule so they could see me.

That night as I started my shift I was immediately bothered by Surf Nazis, a few of the assholes noticing me in the shop alone. I had kicked them out and the security escorted them off the boardwalk (which I knew wouldn’t last long). The boys didn’t show up at 8 like they normally did and I was a bit disappointed but I knew they would find something shiny and new to love eventually, guys like that always do.

Around 10 o’clock the assholes were back, 3 of them now walking around the shop and getting too comfortable.

‘Don’t touch me!’ I snapped as I cleaned my station, deciding to close early tonight and just take the loss if it got them away from me, their hands pinching me now and then before the one with the giant Mohawk pulled me to his chest and pinned me to the counter. ‘Let Me Go!’ I growled, punching at him as hard as I could but not making him budge.

‘Come on sweetheart, just spend the night with us, I promise you’ll have the time of your life.’ He teased just before I brought my knee up and hit him straight in the crotch, a high pitched noise escaping him before he collapsed.

‘Get the fuck out!’ His 2 friends helped him up before practically carrying him out and I pulled the gates at the front shut, locking them and making my way down the boardwalk. Unlike the last 5 nights, I was uneasy and scared again, hating the long walk in the darkness which is what made me hesitate as I got to the parking lot before trying to quickly get to the next street and away from the rowdy people. I wasn’t even halfway through the parking lot when I was grabbed, tight hands clamped around my waist and mouth as I was hauled down the beach no matter how hard I kicked before being dropped by a bonfire.

‘Hi there.’ The asshole from earlier greeted and I rolled my eyes.

‘Get the fuck away from me!’ I snapped, trying to get up only to be shoved back down onto my ass, realizing there were 4 of them now all looking down at me like it was the funniest joke ever told.

‘Oh, come on! We’re gonna have a great time, you just need to relax.’ There were suddenly hands on me from behind pulling at my jacket and I tried to pull my arms back, kicking my legs out and hitting the one in front of me in the stomach before two of them pinned me on my back on the sand.

‘You’re gonna pay for that, bitch.’ He snarled and just as he knelt down over me there was a loud shrieking sound from behind him and they all turned towards their friend that had screamed. I couldn’t sit up to see from where I was but as both men holding me suddenly let me go I knew whatever it was, it wasn’t good. As more screams rang out I rolled over, crawling along the sand and keeping my head down before seeing boots below my face that I recognized instantly.

‘David?’ I questioned, looking up and stiffening as I saw blood covering his mouth and jaw but strangely, I didn’t feel any real fear like I had moments ago.

‘Are you alright Kitten? The one night we’re late.’ He teased, leaning down and lifting me up to my feet. I turned around as the screaming suddenly cut off and saw all 4 Surf Nazi’s dead and covered in blood. I had to swallow to keep from getting sick as I saw several limbs no longer attached to their original bodies, Paul and Dwayne covered in blood much the same as David while Marko held one of the assholes in his grip with his…fangs…in the man’s neck.

‘Holy shit…’ They all looked at me now, their faces distorted but they didn’t look angry like I would expect, more concerned as they all looked at me, Marko dropping the now dead body.

‘Relax Kitten, it’s alright. You’re safe now.’ David told me and I took a deep breath, not feeling scared in the least.

‘Vampires…makes sense…only coming out at night. The mirror thing…that’s why you heal so fast! Totally unfair!’ I whined, realizing why their tattoos healed so quickly as they stepped closer to me, Dwayne having cleaned off his face as best he could before looking me over quickly.

‘Are you hurt? We got here as quickly as we could, we-‘

‘I’m fine! It’s alright…thank you for saving me…I’m going to have to switch to working nights after all, aren’t I?’ I joked making David snort beside me while he lit a cigarette.

‘Or you could quit and just tattoo us exclusively.’ Paul proposed. ‘For the rest of eternity.’

‘W-wait, you mean-‘

‘You think we show just anyone what we really are?’ Marko wondered.

‘You were meant to be one of us Princess-knew you were ours since the moment you sliced your finger and we smelled your blood, no changing that.’ The pothead laughed making me roll my eyes before feeling David’s arm around my waist, covering my neck in blood as he nuzzled me which was a uniquely gross feeling.

‘He’s right Kitten. You ain’t gettin away from us, might as well accept it…you, our little mate, were born to be a vampire.’

Lost Boys Masterlist

Lost Boys x Tattoo Artist Moodboard

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

Could we get Gaz reacting to reader spreading rumours on base that they're dating for no good reason other than to undermine his authority and piss him off? (Inspired by your reader flirting with Gaz on the job piece) 🙏

tasty tasty tasty.

ok so there is a reason other than undermining his authority. but a pissed-off Gaz is a pissed-off Gaz, right?

26 / 1.4k / comes after flirting with Gaz on the job

...

You're on your way to a briefing, eyes cast down on the paperwork in your hands. You did not do your homework, as usual, so you're skimming what you can in the four minutes it takes you to walk to the meeting room.

Which is why you almost don't see Gaz standing in front of you, arm braced on the wall, blocking your way. To someone else, he'd read as neutral. You know his face too well to misread the stern glower tightening his features.

"Excuse me," you say, trying to sidestep him.

Gaz doesn't move. He also clearly knows he can't be moved. Not by you.

"Late for a meeting?" he asks lightly.

"No, sir, but I will be in just a few minutes. So if you don't mind--"

"Not at all," he says in a voice that implies the opposite. "Since you're about to be late anyway, how about you and me have a little chat, yeah?"

"I couldn't possibly take up more of your valuable time," you say, slipping into the flirtatious tone you so often direct at him. You try to slide past him, but nothing escapes Gaz. "Though I'm flattered you'd--"

He grabs your arm. Not roughly—he never touches you roughly, probably because you’d just egg him on—but firmly enough not to be ignored. "With me, Private."

You're too flustered to resist as he pulls you through the halls and into a different office. Captain Price's office, you notice.

⬇ nsfw, revenge porn

“Have a seat.” He gestures to the chair in front of desk, then sits himself on Price’s chair. The corner of his mouth curls up. That’s unnerving.

You don't sit. "Sir, I appreciate your urgency, but I really must get to my briefing. Shepherd will wonder where I am."

Gaz's stare is steady as a hawk's. You'd love the chance to gaze into his eyes under any other circumstances. But now?

"Then Shepard can take it up with me," he says. "He wouldn't be surprised to hear we're spending time together, after all. Or hasn't he heard?"

You sweat. Oh, shit. "I, um, don't know why he wouldn't be surprised."

His eyes harden. “No? I hear we've been spending quite a lot of time together lately. Funny how I was the last to know about it."

Inwardly, you cringe. "I can explain."

“Yeah?” he challenges you. He crosses his arms, leaning back. "You can explain where the hell you get off spreading grubby little rumors about how you and I are fooling around?"

"I said I can." You fidget with the stapled corners of the packets of paper in your arm, folding and creasing them as your mind runs at ninety miles an hour. "So what did you hear, exactly?"

"What I heard was that we're seeing each other in the least professional way imaginable," Gaz says, voice clipped. He keeps his expression and tone controlled only with visible effort. "That I’m having a cozy little fling with a private. Someone who is technically my subordinate. That could cost me a lot of time and patience if my superiors decided to write me up."

"But Captain Price would never believe that about you, though. Right? I mean, the rumor mill is always churning out something. Last month it was Sergeant MacTavish and the girl from IT."

His expression gets frostier. "You started the rumor about us. I know it was you."

You fight the urge to glance back at the door behind you. You try to weave an excuse together, but it gets stuck in your throat.

Gaz leans forward now. His glare is so sharp it could slice glass. He seems to grow in size as he stares you down. He’s so intense, so intimidating, so… right there. Way too close. You start to get distracted, swimming in his dark eyes, before his voice yanks you back to reality.

"I know because some prick claiming to be your ex-boyfriend confronted me about it. Said you put the idea in his head that I'm keeping you warm at night. Took a swing at me, too." He narrows his eyes. "I don't like being put in a position to defend your honor just to protect my reputation, Private."

You stumble through a litany of excuses--you had to get your ex off your back; you meant a different Sergeant Garrick; okay, maybe that's not true, but you only just told a tiny little fib. Is it really your fault the rumor spiraled out of control?

It doesn't work. In fact, as you babble on, Gaz only takes your flailing as proof of how guilty you are.

You're prepared for him to tear you a new asshole (though not in the way you'd want), but to your surprise, he doesn't. Instead:

"You’re going to make this right."

You blink. "I am?"

"Damn right you are. I did your dirty work for you, and I'm sure as hell not chasing down your ex and apologizing after the rubbish he spewed."

"Then... you want me to tell him I lied?"

Gaz scoffs. "It wouldn't work if you did."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Ignore it?"

"Quiet down. I wasn't finished. There's no use trying to quell the rumors at this point; it'll only fuel them. So here's what we're gonna do."

…

You're not quite sure how this is going to solve the problem. It seemed rational when he explained it. Then again, anything coming out of Gaz’s mouth sounds reasonable to you.

You're sitting across from him at a low-key dinner joint. Not the kind of upscale place you're used to being taken to on dates. Then again, this place wasn't your choice. And technically you're treating him to dinner. He’s the one who’s quote-unquote "breaking up" with you.

When you'd questioned his logic, pointing out that it'd be way easier to just not and say you did, he gave you a half-amused, half-condescending look that made your stomach too fluttery.

"If you're gonna use my name and risk my reputation to be my fake girlfriend, I'm gonna get something out of it," he'd said. So now you've gotta wine and dine him at his favorite restaurant, and then you're gonna have to sit there and be broken up with. As if he hasn't shamed you enough.

That sucks. This sucks. You never even got a real date with him. And with your luck, your ex is gonna find out.

You do try to flirt your way back into his good graces during this fake-relationship-real-date. He just scoffs. Doesn't just no-sell you--he actively bites back and he's pretty damn mean about it.

You're not just a liar, he tells you--you're dense. If you'd asked him out like a normal person instead of flirting with him and then starting stupid rumors, he'd have considered it. When you tell him you had asked him out and he’d turned you down, he scoffs and tells you he'd have split the bill instead of making you pay, at least.

That's as far as he intends for it to go. But then, while you're waiting on the check, he gets a text from an unknown number.

It's a video. Of you.

You doing some very lewd things to what looks like your ex-boyfriend. Blowing him in the bathroom of some club or a restaurant much dingier than this one. If that's where he's been taking you on dates, Gaz can understand why you broke up with him.

Enjoy my sloppy seconds, chud, says the accompanying smug text.

Gaz is also starting to understand why you lied to get your ex off your back.

"What is it?" you ask, seeing the look on Gaz's face as he stares down at his phone.

"Nothing," he says, putting his phone away as the waiter sets down the check. Gaz pushes his chair out and rises, trying his best not to show any emotion, but his words are a little too sharp. "Let's go.”

"Now?" you ask, surprised. "I thought you were going to--I thought we would get our story straight about the, um, the breakup."

"We can figure it out on the way."

"To where?”

"Your place."

...

[part 1] / part 2

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[lonelywitchv2]

Shattered (Strawberries pt. 2)

summary: the discovery of your relationship leaves an aftermath that shatters more than just an inkpot.

content: lots of anger, lots of dialogue, lots of angst, lots of anger (again), sirius and james lowkey being assholes, mentions of food, the marauders basically controlling your life, sirius and regulus being on extra-bad terms, the marauders also stalking you (to an extent)

wc: 2350 (literally almost 4x longer than part 1)

join my taglist!

the long-awaited part 2 is here! hope y'all enjoy <3

The walk back to the school was quiet, all attempts at defending you and Regulus had been long abandoned. James’ grip on your forearm remained as he marched you away from the forest while Sirius refused to even look at you, choosing to glare ahead like James. 

When you, Sirius, and James entered the common room, Remus, Lily, and Marlene looked up, all three caught off guard by the sight in front of them. None of them had seen James look as angry as he did, not in the seven years of knowing him. You, on the other hand, were stuck in his iron grip, your eyes cast downwards. They watched as James and Sirius made a move to take you up to the boys' dormitories, only stopping when Remus jumped up and blocked them.

“What the hell is going on?” Remus asked, his tall frame standing in front of the staircase, glancing between the two boys and you.

“We caught her out on a little date,” James responded, his upset expression unchanged.

“Why is that such a big deal? She’s sixteen, she’s allowed to go on dates, Prongs,” Remus said, confused.

“Well, she isn’t allowed to go on dates with my little brother!” Sirius exclaimed, his face twisted in anger.

Remus, Marlene, and Lily all paused, shock written across each of their faces.

“She was on a date with Regulus?” Lily asked from the couch.

“Yes!” James responded, his head turning towards the redhead.

“And in the Forbidden Forest too!” Sirius added.

“It was just a picnic,” You uttered.

“I’m pretty sure it was more than ‘just a picnic’ given that I saw Regulus on top of you,” Sirius argued.

“Regulus was on top of her?” Marlene asked, still shocked.

“It wasn’t like that! We were just kissing!” You said, a weak defense against the five seventeen-year-olds beginning to crowd around you.

“Oh, so Regulus pins your wrists down every time you two kiss?” Sirius asked bitterly.

“No-!”

“Well, then it seemed like more than ‘just a kiss’ to me!” 

“You guys don’t understand!” You exclaimed.

“Well then help us understand,” Remus responded, trying to remain calm.

“I’m trying! Regulus and I were going on a picnic-” You started before swiftly getting interrupted.

“Why was it in the Forbidden Forest?” Sirius pestered.

“Because we knew you would freak if you saw- which we were right about!” You argued back.

“Anyways….?” Lily said, trying to draw the story out from you.

“And we were talking about books-” You said, trying to continue.

“I didn’t know talking about books involved lying on top of someone,” James muttered, hostility lacing his words

“Oh shush, James,” Marlene groaned.

“We were talking about books and then had a play fight over a strawberry and kissed. That’s it. Nothing more to it,” You finished.

“Still doesn’t explain why it was all with Regulus,” Sirius grumbled.

“Listen, Sirius, I get that you’re pissed off and I’m sorry for keeping it a secret, but I’m not sorry that it was with Regulus. I know he’s your brother but I really like him, Siri,” You said, looking up at the dark-haired boy.

“I just… I don’t get it. How’d this even happen?” Sirius asked, quieter this time.

“Potions- we, uh, we have potions together. And a few prefects rounds now and then,” You answered.

“Prefect rounds… Lily, did you put the two of them together for rounds? Cause I know I sure as hell didn’t,” James accused, turning towards the red-haired girl.

“No- James, you know the pairs are rotated, I didn’t put them together on purpose, it was bound to happen!” Lily exclaimed, stepping away from the group.

“Lily, none of this would’ve happened if they weren’t put on rounds together!”

“The pairs aren’t picked out by hand, I already told you it wasn’t intentional-”

“Dear Godric- will you guys stop fighting? James, listen, Regulus and I had classes together- we would’ve met regardless of if we were paired up for rounds or not, so don’t go blaming Lily for it,” You interrupted.

“Everyone, just stop. I just need to think.” Sirius said, waving you, Lily, Marlene, Remus, and James off as he walked up the stairs and into his dormitory.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Remus muttered, following the path of Sirius. James, who momentarily turned to glare at you, walked behind Remus.

Left in the common room with Lily and Marlene, you let out an exasperated huff as you watched the boys’ heads disappear up the stairs. Turning around, you saw the two older girls staring at you.

“What?” You asked, not oblivious to their curious expressions.

“How long has this been going on?” Lily asked quietly, Marlene leaning in slightly to hear the conversation.

You stayed silent for a moment, your gaze trailing down to the scuffed material of your shoes.

“A few months,” You said quietly, slight shame enveloping you as you felt the burning stares from Lily and Marlene.

“How many months?”

“Four.”

“Four months?!” Marlene exclaimed, a gasp leaving her mouth.

Your head turned to the side, avoiding the gaze of the two as you chewed on your bottom lip.

“Yeah, four months,” You repeated, looking everywhere but at the girls in front of you.

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Lily asked, brows furrowed.

“You’re really gonna ask that after what just happened? Blimey, Lily, it’s a mess whatever I do. None of them are going to trust me again. They… they’re gonna do everything they can to keep me away from Regulus and there’s about nothing I can do about it,” You muttered, frustrated tears forming in your eyes.

“I need to be alone for a little while. I’ll see you later,” You said after a few moments of silence, raking your hands through your hair as you left for your dorm.

The sight of your bed was a welcoming sight, prompting you to kick off your shoes and flop down onto it. Despite it only being late afternoon, you were already exhausted from the stress of the day. It started off good, with you getting to be with Regulus, but it was quickly ruined by James and Sirius discovering the two of you.

Regulus.

The thought of him normally brought a wave of happiness, butterflies swarming in your stomach when you saw him. Right now, though, you felt everything but the pleasant fluttering in your stomach. It was more like there were moths inhabiting your body, covering whatever light that was once in your heart. It wasn’t because of Regulus himself, dear Godric, of course not, it was over the fact that, just like you told Lily and Marlene, you would have all four boys, or at the very least James and Sirius, working against your relationship and working to keep you apart from him. It made you sick to the stomach.

Some might say to sneak around and meet up in abandoned corridors, broom closets, or empty classrooms, which would (theoretically) work if it wasn’t for the damned Marauder’s Map. At first, the piece of enchanted parchment was a blessing when you needed to check for professors before leaving the common room past curfew but, as you grew older and would meet up with boys, you would have about five minutes, maybe ten if you were lucky, until the marauders would appear. Your resentment for the paper only grew when you realized there was no way you could be with Regulus in an empty room or corridor at night without one of the marauders catching on, so you had to get creative. You and Regulus would make out in empty sections of the library, hold hands in the back of the classroom, talk and kiss during prefect rounds, and exchange love notes passed using either magic or by being left in between the pages of a book.

The rest of the day, you stayed holed up in your room, only leaving when dinner came around, followed by Lily and Marlene, who dragged you out of bed and down to the Great Hall. Dinner was a quiet affair, something incredibly unusual for the group but, with the lingering air of hostility emitting from Sirius, no one was really in the mood for talking. You were sat in between Remus and Lily, placed strategically so you couldn’t look over at the Slytherin table. Sirius, however, was sitting across from you and refused to even glance at you, his eyes either on his plate or glaring at the Slytherin table, most definitely aimed at Regulus. 

You could feel the stares, watching as Marlene’s eyes flickered between you, Sirius, and Regulus. Lily, who would repeatedly would glance at you through her peripheral view, also caught your attention with her gaze. You were almost positive you could feel Regulus’ stare on the back of your head, yet you refrained from turning to meet the gaze. Sirius was mad enough as it was, he didn’t need to catch you looking at his little brother.

Not particularly hungry, especially given the day’s events, you spent the majority of dinner pushing around the food on your plate rather than eating it. You felt almost nauseous as you sat on the bench, the idea of eating englufed by the still-present feeling of moths within your body.

When dinner was finally finished, you were ready to bolt out of the Great Hall and into your dorm. Remus, however, had other plans, placing an arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his tall frame. Although it might’ve looked like an act of affection to some, you knew it wasn’t. You were certain Sirius had given Remus some sort of signal to make sure you didn’t leave their sight, something he was keen on avoiding after finding you and Regulus in the forest.

The over-protective behavior continued for days. You were always in the company of at least one of the marauders, whether it was in the library or walking to class, you were never alone. They had even gone so far as to bribe one of your Potions classmates into keeping an eye on you and Regulus. Of course, this was only after the plan of forcing you to switch partners failed and so began your life of constant surveillance. James had even put it upon himself to use his Head Boy status and hand-pick the prefect pairs that would patrol the halls, ensuring that you and Regulus were never together.

The only time you were ever alone was when you were in your dorm. Even then, the three girls, with whom you shared a room, had told you that James interrogated them every time they left the dorm, trying to squeeze information out of them on if you had gotten any letters or anything of the such. The girls, thankfully, had refused to answer any of James’ questions, leaving him to question what happened behind the wooden door of Gryffindor tower’s dormitory thirteen.

Around a week after you and Regulus were discovered, you finally received a letter from him. It had come Saturday morning while you were getting ready for breakfast, delivered by the midnight-colored owl Regulus had named Pluto, after the Roman god of the underworld. After petting Pluto for a moment, you sat down on your bed to read the piece of parchment. Inside the letter, Regulus wrote about how greatly was he missing you and how he wanted nothing more than to be able to hold your hand without receiving a scathing glare from his brother. You folded the letter back up and went rummaging through your bag, pulling out parchment, ink, and a quill as you wrote a response, talking about how you were planning on trying to get Sirius to let up and not keep you on watch every moment. You rolled your letter up, tied it to Plato, and sent him off, storing Regulus’ letter inside your DADA textbook before hurrying down to breakfast.

While you were sitting with your friends, your eyes would briefly glance at the door every time a student entered, looking for a particular curly-headed boy. When you made eye contact with the one you had been searching for, you could feel the redness in your cheeks. You quickly looked down, avoiding the side-eyed glance you received from Sirius, his eyes trailed over to where Regulus was walking towards the Slytherin table.

Catching on, Sirius dropped his fork onto his plate, storming out of the Great Hall in a fit of rage. You, James, Remus, Peter, Marlene, and Lily all watched him disappear before you stood up and began to follow him.

By the time you reached the painting of the Fat Lady, Sirius was already ahead of you and inside Gryffindor tower. Muttering the password, you entered the common room, pausing to look for Sirius. After you realized he wasn’t downstairs, your ears caught the sounds of things being tossed around and falling from the girls' dormitories.

In a matter of seconds, you rushed up the stairs and into your dorm, where Sirius was rummaging through your bag, your nightstand already ransacked and gutted, its contents scattered across the floor. 

“What the hell are you doing, Sirius?!” You shouted, attempting to pull the bag out of the boy’s grip. The fight over the bag was essentially tug of war, ending when the contents spilled out, books and quills on the ground. 

“I don’t know what else you’re hiding from me, but I’m going to find it so bugger off,” Sirius growled, anger burning in his eyes as he glanced at you.

You watched as Sirius reached for your Defense Against the Dark Arts book, freezing as the letter from Regulus fluttered out from the pages and onto the ground. Sirius picked it up, unfolded it, and turned to you with a look of betrayal and fury on his face after reading it. 

“How could you?” Sirius said, leaving your dormitory and taking the letter with him.

Left in the mess surrounding your bed, you looked down to see your inkpot on the ground, shattered.

tysm for reading!

@serialghost @abq654 @scrletletter @readtomeregulus @anny-bah

[dovveri]

what if nerd momo x bimbo reader author I need u

failing maths, but getting the girl

synopsis: momo and y/n have hated each other ever since an incident in first year. now, y/n's failing a class and momo offers to help.

warnings: mentions of blood and cuts, overbearing parents, drugs, implied sex

w/c: 4.0k

a/n: this is kinda funny for me bcs im blonde and my dad keeps making jokes in chinese about how im ltr a blonde bimbo now. anyway i combined these 2 reqs bcs im lazy forgive me anon/s

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

"y/n!"

you turn in the corridor, almost crashing into the burly man behind you who yells a "watch where you're going blondie!" before rushing off to a class he was probably late to.

you spot your friends who had called you, grinning and waving you over, "can't go one day on campus without running someone down can you?" a friend teases.

you pout, "i didn't walk into anyone yesterday!"

"no but you got stuck in the revolving door outside the chem building."

you whine at their teasing, you were a naturally clumsy person! sometimes you'd mix up salt and sugar, and sometimes you'd lose your car keys only to find them still in the ignition keyhole of your car from the last time you used it.

"so you coming to that party tonight? i heard some famous dj from the states is playing."

"awwh really?! i can't tonight i'm failing that dumb math class i have to take and i have a quiz tomorrow so i gotta study."

"you're failing everything y/n, what difference would one night make for you anyway?" a scoff from a student passing by, who you recognise as the infamous hirai momo from the back of her head and the evil way she sends a side-eye at you and your friend group in disgust.

"i wouldn't be if it weren't for your sad ass hirai!"

"stop looking at my ass and get your eyes on some books for once."

momo was meant to be your roommate in first year. although you had accidentally locked her out in the rain for 5 hours while you were hooking up with someone you can't remember the name of anymore. that was during orientation week, safe to say she was pissed and completely drenched when you finally let her in. she filed for a roommate change not long after, citing "poor etiquette and stupidity that could infect my genius", and being the university's most promising academic scholar, she pretty much got whatever she wanted. meaning she also got you assigned to the harshest tutors and markers as her own form of personal revenge, essentially making you fail most of your first year courses. which is why you were even taking this math class again.

the problem arose however, when you find out you would actually lose your scholarship if you failed another class. so failing was definitely not an option.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

“you failed.”

“what!? but i studied all night! i even brought the right calculator model this time!”

“miss l/n, bringing the correct calculator doesn’t help you if you don’t know how to use it. and neither does studying all night if you haven’t been coming to class for most of the semester.”

you’re gaping at the professor in disbelief.

“i’m afraid you’ll lose your scholarship if you fail the upcoming final exam. take this as your final warning. good day miss l/n.”

the door is shut in your face while you're still left trying to process exactly what just happened, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

a familiar scoff behind you brings you back though, "what is y/n l/n doing here outside the staff meeting room? what? about to blow one of your professors for marks or something?"

you spin, stepping into her space, faces inches away from each other, "you jealous or something hirai? i'll blow you too if you beg."

you revel in the way her cheeks immediately flush, a slightly shaky finger pushing up the glasses on her nose as she looks away, "jokes on you l/n. i don't have a dick dimwit."

"you don't need one for me to make you feel good."

she's sputtering, moving around you quickly to escape, knocking on the staff door. you smirk, reveling in the slight win over her but immediately forgetting the feeling of triumph when you realise you're still fucked for your final in 2 weeks.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

"y/n, you know i love you, but i cannot explain this again in any other way."

you groan, hands coming up to pull at your hair.

"but you got like a high affliction or something for this class last year! if you can't teach me i'm actually royally screwed, pleaseee?"

"it's high distinction sweetie. and just because someone's good at something doesn't mean they're a good teacher. sorry to break it to you but i couldn't teach my little cousins how to multiply fractions without wanting to commit homicide."

you wrinkle your nose, "gross dude they're literally related to you."

"no babes homicide means i wanted to kill them."

"oh... i guess that's better?"

"focus! c'mon you remember how to do the cross product right?"

"i don't get ittttttt!!!!!!! isn't that just multiplication? a times b equals ab!"

"this isn't algebra it's vectors. cross product isn't multiplication y/n."

you groan again, facepalming the desk in front of you.

your friend sighs, "sorry y/n i have to get going now. promised my boyfriend i'd go watch his game tonight."

"what?! you can't leave me here!"

your friend's already packing up their stuff though, "sorry! good luck with the studying though!"

you wail in goodbye, sitting up again and slapping your face a few times, trying to hype yourself up.

two minutes later, and you're still absolutely nowhere.

you decide to go out for a quick stroll rather than start a campfire in the middle of the library with all your papers. the evening breeze feels refreshing against your skin as you take in the sky. breathing in a deep sigh and closing your eyes briefly.

definitely the wrong idea when you crash headfirst into something that yelps a "what the fuck!" followed by the sound of smashing glass and a whine of pain.

your eyes are quick to open and you stare down at a bleeding hirai momo next to what looks to be a ruined 3D print of a final project or something.

"oh shit momo! are you okay?" you crouch down quickly, trying to collect the glass pieces that have broken, yelping when a piece digs into your skin.

"has all that bleach finally reached your brain y/n? who goes for broken glass with their bare hands?" she's frowning, rubbing her head a little and inspecting the cut across her arm.

"i-i'm sorry i-"

she sighs, "save it. i've had a long enough day as it is. being around you any longer is just gonna increase my chances of dying to some freak plane crash or something." she's standing up and brushing her hands off on her pants muttering to herself, "i'll have to call security to come clean this up."

you realise then that her eyes look a little puffier than usual, slightly tinged with red, the telltale signs of crying.

you suddenly feel terrible. whatever you had just broken seemed like an extremely intricate piece of work, and she was still bleeding down her arm but she didn't seem to pay it much mind, taking a phone out of her pocket and dialing security.

you step to the side and wait for her to finish talking on the phone. she doesn't realise you haven't left yet, swearing under her breath as she assess the damage once again.

when she turns and sees you again, she scowls, "what are you still doing here bimbo? don't you have a dick to ride or some jewelry to shine?"

you ignore her, blushing instead, "you're still bleeding."'

she looks surprised at that response, glancing at her arm again briefly and shrugging, "it's whatever. i'll clean it up later."

you wrap a hand around her wrist then, still not meeting her eyes, "let me? it'll be hard to bandage it properly with your left hand. and i kinda owe you for all of-" you gesture vaguely with your other hand at the ground, "this."

she's tugging her hand back quickly though, "don't bother. you'd probably make it worse. just go home y/n."

you sigh exasperatedly, "won't you just let me help! i feel bad okay? i can't just leave you here bleeding onto the concrete waiting for security to come clean this up."

she's surprised at your outburst, eyes locking onto yours and then nodding slightly. you don't let her rethink her decision as you drag her back inside the library, heading into the storeroom where you knew they had emergency first aid supplies.

you sit her down on the chair and rummage through the small kit for some alcohol wipes to clean the wound first.

she's eyeing you with a sort of caution, but is quick to clench her eyes shut and gasp at the first sting of disinfectant.

it's quiet for a bit while you work on cleaning her wound.

"where'd you learn first aid?" she speaks up first, eyes meting yours again.

"my little sister used to play around a lot with the rougher kids in the neighborhood. so she was always coming home with scratches and cuts and my mom was at work most of the time so i had to learn to take care of her myself."

momo hums, "guess that didn't really translate to taking care of yourself then huh? i mean with the way you're always tripping over air and stuff, you're more of a danger to yourself than a serial killer would be." there's no malice to her words this time, just lightly teasing you and you smile.

"i am sorry by the way. for breaking that. it looked like it'll be pretty hard to replicate."

"nah. i can just print another one tomorrow don't worry."

you both fall into silence again as you finish cleaning her wound, going to collect a few of the bandages to start wrapping around her arm.

you clear your throat a little awkwardly, "so... long day?"

she chuckles humorlessly in response, "something like that."

"wanna talk about it?"

she bristles then, and you're quick to correct yourself, "i mean you don't have to. just... making conversation."

it's quiet for a little longer and you're finishing wrapping her up, grabbing a small adhesive to stick it all together when she sighs. "sorry. just had a lot of pressure from back home lately. my parents keep wanting me to hurry up and graduate so i can go back to japan and take over the family companies. they called earlier saying how they're cutting off my funding for next year if i continue to drag out my studies."

"what? but you're only 23. don't you have like, things left you wanna do before you're all old and unable to move anymore?"

she giggles a little, its the first time you've heard that from her, "yeah tons actually. i've always wanted to see the northern lights and stay in one of those cute little igloos in finland, maybe go to antarctica and do some research there."

"okay! do that! what's stopping you?"

she smiles at you sadly, "my parents won't allow it. they'd disown me for not taking over their companies. and frankly, i'd be broke without them. i don't have the kind of money to keep living abroad like this if they were to stop supporting me."

you tilt your head a little in confusion, "can't you find a job?"

she's laughing then, a full, nose-scrunching laugh, "not with the classes i'm taking. i'd have to either take part-time study, which my parents would literally kill me for because it's 'embarassing' and would bring shame on our family name, or... never sleep again and take a night job or something."

you frown, sitting back on your heels.

"thanks for this by the way. you're still hurt though, do you want me to do you?"

"-and don't make a weird joke about that." she interrupts you before you can even open your mouth.

you pout, nodding a little as she laughs, and grabs the first aid box from you, gently placing your hand in her lap and cleaning your fingers.

you're caught by the way her eyebrows furrow a little in concentration, her teeth biting into her bottom lip slightly, and you can't help but think she looks cute.

you're brought quickly out of these alarming thoughts though, when she asks "how come you're in the library so late on a friday night anyway? never thought the day would come."

you groan, remembering the stack of math papers you have sitting on your desk, "i have to study for a math final coming next week. if i fail i lose my scholarship and i can't let my mom pay for any of this. she's already worked hard enough getting both my sister and me through school."

momo looks surprised at your admission, "oh. i'm sorry. i didn't know you were on scholarship."

you hum, "yeah most people don't assume it from looking at me." you tease a little, flipping your blonde hair over your shoulder and giving a little jingle of your bracelets.

"i'm not materialistic or anything but i enjoy having things that make me look nice y'know?"

she rolls her eyes, placing bandaids carefully onto your fingers.

"you don't need any of those things anyway."

you're caught again, unsure whether that was a compliment or some new way of torturing you.

she clears her throat, "all done."

you look at your hand, cutely littered with some winnie the pooh bandaids she must have found in the first aid kit.

you beam up at her, "thanks!"

she blushes a little and looks away from you, shyly rubbing the back of her neck, "hey look... i can help you study for that test next week if you want. don't want you losing your scholarship over something simple like that. plus i kinda helped go through all the first year math exams for some extra credit with the head of department."

you're shocked at first, and then jumping and squealing, bringing her up with you, "what?! you will?! oh my god thank you!!!!! holy shit oh my god i'm not gonna fail oh shit i'm-"

she's shooshing you in an instant though, a hand clamped over your mouth, eyes darting behind you, "y/n! we're still in a library!"

you grin when she lets you go, whispering loudly, "thank you!"

she's rolling her eyes and letting herself be dragged over to your table, praying that she didn't make the wrong decision deciding to help you.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

momo's standing outside your lecture theatre, waiting for your class to end. you texted her saying you were getting your final results back today so she decided to pop by and make sure everything was okay.

once students start exiting the class she slips in, walking towards the professor who's packing up her stuff..

"momo! good to see you here. although i'm a little surprised. i wasn't expecting you."

"hey professor kwon. i'm just here to-"

momo's attacked from the back, you're squealing as you latch onto her excitedly, waving a test paper in front of her face, "i passed! momo look i passed! with a 62!!!!! that's higher than i've ever gotten!!!!!"

"miss l/n. i didn't know you knew momo." professor kwon is looking you up and down with a little distaste but you ignore it, squeezing momo even tighter in thanks.

"y/n- stop- wait lemme see that-" she snatches the paper out of your hand and scans it, eyes lighting up when she confirms you did in fact pass.

"congratulations! all that hard work really paid off."

you're blushing, "couldn't have done it without you hirai. c'mon, come out with my friends and i tonight to celebrate!"

"o-oh i don't know about that y/n... i've got-"

"study yeah yeah you always do. but you've gotta relax every now and then you know?"

"miss l/n is right momo. you're the most hardworking student here you should give yourself a break every now and then."

you're nodding fiercely, "right right! thanks professor kim!"

she looks at you with a glare, "kwon. its professor kwon miss l/n."

you're nodding, waving her off shaking momo, "c'mon pleaseeeeeeee? i'll pay for everything. as a thanks for helping me. and i can afford it now too since i won't be losing my scholarship which is also thanks to you so..!"

momo's still uncertain, hand at the back of her neck again, a nervous tick you've picked up on.

"oh professor i just remembered!" you're switching back to your professor, excitement and attention everywhere, "you were looking for outstanding students to tutor next semester right? how about momo? she's the only reason i passed this final and trust me when i say i'm a pretty difficult student to teach."

"oh?" the professor looks towards momo who's eyes have widened, "i had actually planned on asking you regardless but seeing as you were very successful with miss l/n it's just even more proof that you'd be a great teacher. what do you say momo? it's paid decently and great on your academic and work transcripts as well..."

you're looking between your professor and momo with full eyes.

momo looks like she's about to reject the offer, you knew it was because her parents expected her to be back in japan next year but you stop her before she's able to say anything.

"momo! this is great! this is exactly what you need! a job while you're still at uni so you can study at any time but still get paid for it!"

"y/n..."

"it's okay momo. think about it and let me know if you're interested and you've got the job 100%. i've got to get going to my next class now but goodbye girls, congratulations miss l/n but i hope i won't be seeing you in my class next year."

"oh definitely not professor kim!" you wave enthusiastically, giggling at the way the professor sighs in defeat.

you look back at momo who still looks a little stunned.

"well? what do you think?" you ask her excitedly.

"i- i don't know... there's a lot to think about..."

you tilt your head to the side a little in confusion, a gesture momo was beginning to grow fond of.

"i can't just abandon my family y/n. it's a decision that will take me some time to go over." she smiles at you gently, you can't believe this was the same girl who used to call you mean words and intentionally pray on your downfall.

"mm okay. i don't really get it but as long as you're happy in the end it doesn't matter. now c'mon! you coming tonight or not?"

she sighs fondly, "yeah yeah just this once. and we better be home by 12!"

you're pulling her along again scoffing, "riiiiiiiiight 12pm maybe."

"y/n!"

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

momo was most definitely out of her comfort zone. she mostly stuck to the bar, avoiding eye contact with people who tried to approach her. she quickly ordered another drink, hoping the alcohol could at least ease her nerves.

you were most definitely in your zone. you adored being able to dress up and let loose, especially when everyone else is so drunk you’re no longer the only person falling over themselves. you could laugh a little and have fun as well.

you could feel momo’s eyes on you and you ached to drag her out onto the dance floor and join you but she was adamant on staying by the bar when you had tried.

you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or maybe you were just attracted to her now after you’ve spent a whole week studying with her pretty much every minute of every day. but she looked good. you licked your lips as your eyes trailed down the slant of her jawline, her neck and clavicles outlined in the halter top she was sporting. your eyes politely moved past her chest but darted straight down to the abs that she apparently had hidden from the entire student body. how did she even have time to have abs when she always had her nose in a book or was in a lab conducting experiments?

you snap out of it when you realise said abs were moving closer to you for some reason, and suddenly she's all in your space, shoving someone behind you that you hadn't even realised was there in your momo-induced daze.

you turn to see a man with half his shirt unbuttoned and a look of surprise on his face. "the fuck dude?"

momo says nothing, reaching for your drink instead, sticking a finger in and swirling it around for 2 seconds before bringing it to her lips.

that was hot.

"rohypnol."

"what? what the fuck are you on about?" the guy is annoyed, drawing the attention of bystanders as they create a small circle around the three of you, you spot your friends in the crowd looking at you in confusion silently asking what's going on?

you can only shake your head, attention moving back to momo who's standing up straight, almost chest to chest with the guy now.

"rohypnol. a drug belonging to the benzodiazepine class of drugs that inhibits the central nervous system causing the user to experience extreme drowsiness and even blackout in some cases. it can also cause the user memory loss and brings the user to a higher state of intoxication in a rapid amount of time. it's street name is roofies."

the man is sputtering now, "w-what? what is this bullshit? what are you tryna say huh?"

"that you tried to roofie my friend here. do you want me to call the police? have them check this drink for traces of the drug?"

"what!? the fuck?!"

momo sighs, her eyes closing for a second, "is your vocabulary only limited to what? and the fuck? it's getting tiring talking to you."

he's gaping like a fish, the people surrounding you have called security over and they're tying his hands behind his back and he's left squirming against them, yelling more curses as momo stands stoically, watching him get taken away.

she sighs when he's out of sight and turns to you with a smile, "you should be more careful. you could've been hurt tonight."

you can't even think straight and the music is being turned back up, and momo looks so good, you can't help the way you're pulling her in by the waist and planting your lips on hers.

she makes a sound of surprise and is shocked for a second, but closes her eyes and returns the kiss, maneuvering you a little so she can place the spiked drink on a nearby table before her hand returns to you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other on your shoulder.

you're a little desperate when you claw at her abs that are now within touching distance, and she giggles into the kiss. you mutter a small shut up, reattaching your lips, feeling all the adrenaline of the night pumping through you as you mould yourself against her.

"god is it weird that- that kinda turned me on a little?" you're speaking between breaths, her lips swallowing up your words, not letting you catch a break.

she hums lightly against you, "which part?"

"the- when you were talking- about all those chemicals- and whatever-"

she breaks away from you then, an eyebrow arched and a hint of a smirk on her face, "you get off on me talking nerdy?"

you want to wipe that smirk off her face. "take me home and i'll show you what i get off on."

her eyes darken considerably, and she's tugging you towards the exit, grabbing the spiked drink and pouring it down the drain first to make sure no one drinks it. the little action of consideration even when you're both overwhelmed with lust just gets you more wet.

you send a quick text to your friends saying you had to leave early, and then you're in a cab, lips on each other's again, hands roaming and exploring every inch of available skin.

you suppose the one good thing out of that math exam was it bringing the two of you together at last.

[thebibliosphere]

It’s been a while since I fever dreamed the plot to something, but I just woke up from a literal fever dream set in a futuristic version of New York where Tom Hiddleston and his pet cyborg owl are entrenched in a spy thriller buddy-cop narrative, only to get swept up in the conflicting heartfelt rom-com narrative of Dakota Johnson who, after a series of unfortunate breakups, has sworn off love and committed herself heart and soul to her job as a curator at Futuristic Met Museum. This is much to the distress of her weed smoking, shroom taking trans lesbian mothers and their elderly dog, Jeff, who just want her to find happiness and love.

As part of his cover, Tom and his cyborg owl, Frank, move into the same apartment where he’ll be staying for several months while he plans to steal a diamond from the Met. I think if you held it up to the light it would project nuclear launch codes that’d been etched onto it. Don’t ask me, my brain was more focused on making the cyborg owl into the wise-cracking comic relief. It kept saying things like “wow Tom, you really are a jack of owl trades” or “don’t worry, Tom, owl always love you.”

The pair meet in the lobby where Tom manages to piss off Dakota by not holding the elevator for her while she is carrying heavy boxes. The apartment building, however, is old and shitty, and he gets stuck in the elevator, requiring him to be rescued by one of Dakota’s mothers who also happens to be the super. Dakota huffs her way out the stairwell just in time to hear her mother inviting the “nice British man” to dinner, much to her chagrin as she realizes that her mom is trying to set her up with the asshole and the cyborg owl that sits on his shoulder like a parrot.

Tom, who finds out she works for the met over said dinner, decides to go along with it as he realizes she’d be the perfect cover to get into the Met Museum for an upcoming gala event—not to mention the perfect person to take the fall for his theft—and begins wooing her relentlessly, assuring Frank, the cyborg owl, that it’s all just part of the mission.

Eventually, the pair fall for each other for realzies, and Tom is conflicted over using her to steal the diamond but his time is running out because we also find out he went rogue for a while after his partner died and was using his skills to work freelance for an international crime syndicate and now the mob is after him?????

Anyway, he’s about to confess all to her on the night of the gala when she gets a phone call from her moms letting her know that their elderly dog, Jeff, is dying so the pair rush back to the apartment and take him to the nearest cyborg vet in the hopes of saving him. En route, the mob find them and start shooting at the flying car they’re in and it leads to a comedic shouting match between the pair along the lines of “what do you mean you’re an international spy and the mob are after you? Ugh, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this sooner! I told you everything about me!”

“Oh, yes, your embarrassing high school stories are exactly the same thing as divulging international secrets. Tell you what, after this let’s get a coffee and I can tell you some highly sensitive top secret information to even out the playing field.”

Anyway, Frank the cyborg owl manages to take out the mob car chasing them with a grenade (????!), and the pair get Jeff to the cyborg vet in time. The dream shifted after that to Dakota helping Tom to figure out how to break into the Met so he can get the diamond, not because she loves him and he helped save her childhood dog, but because she wants him gone. Tom accepts her help and storms off to his own apartment where Frank the cyborg owl is poignantly silent save to say “take some Tylenol”

“…what?”

“Wake up, you need Tylenol.”

Which is what sent me rocketing upright in bed, dizzy and dehydrated, pounding migraine headache, drenched in sweat and running what the thermometer tells me is a 102 fever.

Which brings us to now where I’m downing Tylenol in the dimly lit kitchen, guzzling water and typing this all up on my phone because there’s no way I’m going to remember all this in the morning but damn if it wasn’t a fun dream.

Anyway, shout out to Frank the cyborg owl for waking me up before my brain fried ✌️🦉. I’m going back to bed.

[scary-grace]

#61 for man door hand hook car door

Hi Scarlett! Thank you so much for the prompt from this list (I'm still taking these!). This one took me a bit but I hope you like it! No quirks AU, fluff, sickfic, totally not inspired by anything happening in real life. 2.3k words.

61) “I’ll pick it up after work.”

Your phone rings while you’re on your lunch break, and you pick it up without looking. “Hey, this is –”

“Kill me.”

It’s your boyfriend. Your boyfriend never calls – only texts, because he needs to edit himself before he sends anything. “Hey, Tomura. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Tomura’s usually raspy voice sounds distinctly nasal. “I was mouth-breathing on you all night. How did you not smother me?”

“Would you have smothered me?”

“No,” Tomura groans. “It wouldn’t be any different than your snoring.”

“I don’t snore!”

“Yes, you do. I like it. It’s cheaper than buying a white-noise machine.” Tomura coughs. It sounds like he’s making an effort not to cough into the phone, but it’s not much of one. “This sucks.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “I’m really sorry. You wouldn’t have gotten it if I hadn’t made us go to that party.”

“Yeah, maybe not.” Tomura coughs again. “But we agreed. Rules are rules.”

You knew when you and Tomura started dating that he wasn’t much for parties, but he was also able to admit that the occasional party is necessary, and you used one of the three parties you’re allowed to drag him to per year on bringing him to your friend’s engagement party. Said engagement party got a little messy. A little rowdy. A little drink-sharey, which you’re pretty sure is what got Tomura – during some horrible round of mystery cocktail hot potato, he somehow got stuck finishing almost every drink. You helped him out with most of them, but your immune system is bombproof. If one of you was going to get sick, it was always going to be him.

He went to work yesterday, but stayed home today. He was worse this morning than he was last night. “Rules are rules, but I still feel bad,” you say. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Come home and kill me.”

“Other than that,” you say, and Tomura grumbles. “Seriously. Is there something?”

It’s quiet for a second. “Yeah,” Tomura admits. “If you’re not going to kill me –”

“I’m not.”

“Can you grab my stupid prescription? I went to the urgent care and they sent it to the wrong pharmacy.” Tomura’s coughing gets louder, then softer, while you try to avoid saying something dumb out of sheer shock that he’d go to the doctor at all. “It’s far away and I’m tired. Can you grab it?”

“Which pharmacy?” You put your phone on speaker and look up the address. “That’s on the other side of the city. How did they mess it up that bad?”

“Maybe I said it wrong. I forgot my address for a second when I was checking in,” Tomura mumbles. “It sucked in there. It took forever to get seen because there were a bunch of kids ahead of me with marbles stuck up their noses.”

“With – what?”

“Marbles. Up their noses. At a sleepover. It was a dare,” Tomura says. You can hear just how pissed he is about it – or how pissed he would be, if he wasn’t too fatigued to be pissed. “I don’t know why they got to be seen first. My breathing was more obstructed than theirs.”

You try to imagine this – your sick, crabby boyfriend sharing a waiting room with a birthday party’s worth of kids with marbles jammed up their nostrils. It’s hard to picture. “Did you have to wait a while?”

“It felt like a while,” Tomura says. “Wish you’d been there. It would have sucked less.”

If he’d told you he was going, you’d probably have taken off work to go with him. “I wish I’d been there, too,” you say. You lean back against the wall. “I’ll pick it up after work. Is there anything else you need?”

“A cyanide capsule.”

“I don’t think they sell those at the convenience store,” you say. Tomura grumbles again, and you pause for a moment. “Promise me something. Before you kill yourself, at least let me go on a quest to far distant lands to retrieve the cure.”

“I asked you to get the antibiotics, didn’t I?” Tomura’s voice is muffled. “Problem solved.”

“Not just this time. Any time, Tomura,” you say. You and he have had this conversation before, and you’ve gotten better at talking about it. You know his jokes about killing himself are jokes, but you also know they’re a habit, and it’s not a good habit to be in. “Always give me a shot at the quest first.”

“Yeah.” Tomura’s voice is quieter. “You’re busy, right? Go do something or they’ll make you stay later.”

You don’t want to get off the phone, but you do need to eat. And then you need to race through the rest of your work for the day – or do you? Either way, you need to get off the phone. You check the address for the pharmacy one more time. “Okay. I have to go. Just try to rest.”

“I should have gotten you sick, too.” Tomura sounds incredibly mopey, which is what you’d be, if you had the symptoms he’s having. “Then you’d have to stay home with me.”

“Okay, but if I was sick, who would take care of you?”

“Me.”

“You’re also sick.”

“Shit.” Tomura’s hitting his head against the pillow. You can tell by the rustling. “I’m hanging up before I say anything else stupid. Love you.”

“I love you, too,” you say. You hang up the phone. Then you go back inside to talk to your boss.

_________________________________________________________

Tomura shouldn’t have gone to the stupid urgent care. He got the prescription, sure, but it came at the cost of an hour in a packed waiting room, three separate lectures about getting a primary care provider, a cotton swab down the back of his throat to check for strep even though he doesn’t have a sore throat, and a bunch of questions that weren’t even sort of relevant to why he was there. It sapped all his energy and probably exposed him to twenty more diseases than he already has, and he didn’t even get the antibiotics. He had to ask you to get them, and that means it’ll be even longer before you get home.

Tomura’s not an idiot. He knows you don’t have some kind of magical healing powers that can make his headache and cough and congestion go away just by touching him, but he feels better when you’re here, no matter what you’re doing, no matter what’s wrong with him. Tomura’s not an idiot, but he’s also not naïve. He knows he was shooting for the moon when he slid into your DMs. He never expected it to work.

And part of him is still convinced it hasn’t worked, even though you’ve been together for two years and living together for one. It’s not his low self-esteem telling him you’re too good for him – it’s observable fact. You’re smart and hardworking but sneaky about it, so you never have to do more work than you have to, and you’re pretty and cute but you’re also hot, which are things that should go together but don’t go together in real life, and Tomura knows that whenever people look at the two of you together they’re asking themselves the same question. What are you doing? What are you doing with him?

Tomura asks himself that same question every week or so. He still hasn’t worked it out. But he has a feeling it has to do with the fact that he’s able to pull his weight, which he hasn’t been doing since Sunday morning, when he woke up the morning after your stupid friend’s engagement party with an itch in the back of his throat. And then he piled on by making you pick up his prescription. You must be pissed. So what if you didn’t sound pissed on the phone? You must be. Tomura would – no, Tomura wouldn’t. He likes when he can do stuff for you, because it makes you happy, and he wants you to be happy, because he loves you. What is he thinking?

Nothing that makes any sense, so he should probably stop. Tomura brushes the piles of wadded-up tissues into the wastebasket by the bed, then curls up under the blankets on your side. He should get some sleep. It’s just past noon. You’re not going to be home until six. Maybe he’ll feel a little better on the other side of a six-hour nap.

Tomura falls asleep facing your digital alarm clock, so when he hears the apartment door unlock itself and opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the time. It’s not six. It’s two. Why are you home so early? He can tell that you’re trying to be quiet as you take off your shoes. Maybe you’re trying not to wake him, but he’s already awake. He should let you know

“You –” Tomura starts, then coughs. His voice still sounds like shit, so he coughs again, which turns into a coughing fit, and by then you’re in the doorway. He peers at you through eyes that feel blurrier than they should. “You came back early.”

“I really shouldn’t have gone in at all today,” you say. “When I told my boss your symptoms, she sent me home. Apparently I could be contagious.”

You’re smirking a little bit. Tomura has a feeling you did more than just tell your boss his symptoms, but he doesn’t give a shit. You’re home. “I got your prescription,” you continue, shaking a paper bag, “and I got frozen yogurt instead of a probiotic so you don’t have to take an extra pill. I also got fancy tissues – and ingredients for real ramen if you want that and instant ramen if you don’t – and –”

All of that was one bag. Tomura recognizes the other one instantly – it’s from his favorite game store. “What did you do?”

“New headset,” you say. “You keep saying the one you have hurts your head. If it hurts your head on a regular basis, it probably hurts it even more now – and I know the one you want, so I figured I’d get it. In case you felt like gaming at all.”

Tomura should probably say something. Thank you would probably be a good start, but all he can do is stare at you and cough a little bit. You don’t seem worried about it. You duck out of the bedroom, then come back with a glass of water, a cup of frozen yogurt, and a spoon. You set the antibiotics down next to it and head over to the closet to change out of your work clothes.

Tomura tries to pay attention to the frozen yogurt – using a spoon feels like it requires all of his concentration right now – but he can’t stop glancing over at you. You look good in your work clothes, but Tomura likes it best when you’re comfortable, because you always look good to him and when you’re comfortable you don’t waste time worrying about it. It doesn’t hurt that most of your comfortable clothes were Tomura’s clothes at some point. The pajamas you settle on are half-yours, half-his. Your shorts, which Tomura likes because the elastic waistband is easier to get through than a drawstring is, and his shirt, which he likes because you stole it from him within the first month the two of you were dating and never gave it back.

It takes a spoonful of yogurt nearly sliding off the spoon and into his lap for Tomura to remember what he’s supposed to be doing. He shovels in a few more bites of yogurt, then downs the pill and flops back on the bed, just as you get into bed on what’s usually his side. “You stole my spot,” you say. “What’s that about?”

“Your side is better.”

“That’s not what you said when we moved in,” you point out. “You talked a lot of shit about my side being the worst one.”

“It is. Usually.” Tomura doesn’t want to admit this. He feels like a dumbass. “It smells like you.”

You look surprised. “You can smell stuff right now?”

“Only on one side,” Tomura says, and you laugh. You come closer, too, settling down in bed next to him, and wrapping your arms carefully around him. “You sure you want to do this? What if you get sick?”

“You’ll be done being sick by the time I get it, if I get it,” you say. You kiss Tomura’s cheek, then test his forehead with the back of your hand before brushing his hair out of his face. “I don’t think I will. But if I do get it, then you can take care of me.”

Tomura thinks he could do that. He wouldn’t be as good at it as you are, but you’re giving him a really good tutorial right now. He’s paying attention. Sort of. “I’d say I’m looking forward to it, but you’d have to get sick, so I’m not. Because I don’t want you to be sick. But I would take care of you. I want to, but I don’t want to have to, if that makes sense. It doesn’t make sense. I just – fuck.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You’re smiling at him. “Just get some rest. I could use a nap, too.”

“Yeah.” Tomura wants to talk to you more, wants to hear how your day was going before he ruined it, but now that you’re here, all he wants is to sleep. He sleeps better when you’re here. “Okay.”

The coughing’s not as bad when he isn’t trying to talk. Tomura closes his eyes and slumps against you. “Love you,” he mumbles, and he stays awake just long enough to hear you say it back.

[meggiesposts]

i love your monoma posts they give me reason to live 😭 if u get the time, i think a funny premise would be if the reader was thristing over monoma (to like… an unhealthy extent), and he just can’t pick up on it?? like he’s calling them and their friends 1-A losers n shit and the reader is giddy over the fact that he’s just talking to them lol. maybe kendo can break the news that the reader has a giant crush on him and he like… doesn’t know how to act at all. he can’t tell if he should give them mercy and be nicer to them or call them out and be a little bitch about it 🤭

WARNINGS ⚠️ : reader thirsting, Monoma (kidding I love him), kendo being done w Monoma, reader being kind of a pervert, tried to make reader gender-neutral, a kiss, delusional Monoma

DONE

They are done.

Class 1-A is officially DONE.

Done with your bullshit.

Every time he comes around you go insane. So insane that you’ve said to his face that you would take him out on a date if he would let you.

His response? “Why would anyone go out on a date with a 1-A loser?”

They were done with listening to you thirst over the man that hates their guts. Mina was done listening to you choke over yourself with how much you want him.

Honestly she can’t listen to it anymore- listen… she loves you. More than anything in the world. But if you don’t stop- she’s going to burn your tongue off. She can’t hear your reasoning anymore either-

“But Mina- his arms-”

“I swEAR TO GO-”

She’s done.

She’s tried to talk to you about it too. What do you actually see in him, Ya’know? To be fair, you gave some valid reasons.

His eyes being the color of the ocean and his hair in line with the sand. His smile- taunting or not- was indeed- maybe, on some molecular level- attractive.

He also had potential to become a great hero! Seriously, he did! But oh- oh god his mouth. Every time he opened his mouth- all she saw was thousands of reasons why you shouldn’t like him.

Hell- Aizawa had to tell you to knock it off a couple times- and god forbid that one time you got put in a sparing match with him. The collective number of groans that rang throughout class 1-A was comical.

You rode that high for weeks. Let alone the fact that you used it as a chance to get your hands on him. With the strength of your quirk that- unfortunately for him he could not copy- you sometimes just held him.

He of course didn’t notice- using bakugou’s quirk to fill the air with dust from exploded cement.

You even got to straddle him- to which you told him to yield. He didn’t.

But that knowledge was just for you.

Yet he remained oblivious.

The class can’t count how many times they had straight up watched you say he was hot and how many times you had asked him out- to his face- which he didn’t understand.

The people of UA didn’t know what was worse. Your blatant thirst for the man- of the fact that the man was such an idiot he didn’t see.

It was clearly starting to piss even you off.

So finally, Kendo had to take it into her own hands.

It was gruesome.

“Y/n likes you-”

“Of course they do- the 1-A’s should bow to us.”

“No- Monoma- y/n likes you like-”

“A god? I am one.”

*smack*

She looked deep into the eyes of the disgruntled man as he rubbed the back of his head. The intensity of her silent stare man his shiver as he cowered back.

“Listen to me Monoma. I am being serious. Y/n likes you. Like a married couple. Like a significant other. They want you to be their boyfriend.”

…

“You serious?”

She’s done.

Now Monoma is hit with new information as he dwells in his dorm lair. He laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he was stuck in his thoughts.

On one hand. Your pretty. Like- really pretty. Like walk into a pole on the street because he was starting at you busy. Your strong, fast, really smart… aaannnndddd you like him. A major plus if you will.

But- you were in class 1-A. Could he even date someone in class 1-A after trashing on them so much?

He couldn’t decide yet. So he let it sit.

Unfortunately for him, due to his new knowledge of you, he became hyper-aware of everything you did.

The comments, the touching, asking him out point blank.

Everyone saw the change in him too.

The way he suddenly got tongue tied when he stepped up to class 1-A and you made a comment on how he looked hot when he smirked.

How when paired together he was suddenly stiff and stopped communicating.

He was flustered.

Something that you realized. Something you were going to have fun with.

Oh and you did.

Any chance you got you touched him. Your hand flat on his chest or wrapping your arm around his waist, you did everything.

It builds and builds and builds of course. So the next time he sees you- he snaps.

You were just trying to get a drink after going to the bathroom. It was pure coincidence that he was out too.

To say you were shocked when you were suddenly body slammed into the corner was an understatement.

You stared, wide eyed at the boy in front of you at he fumed.

You stayed quiet, waiting for him to say something- anything really. But he doesn’t. Just holding you in place- breathing heavily with anger swirling in his eyes.

You couldn’t complain- no.

His face was so close to yours. His breath fanning your lips and his body continuously brushing against yours.

You finally broke.

“If you wanted me like this so bad, you could’ve just said so-”

Lips cut you off. Soft, warm- and you melt. Your arms instantly forcing him against you as you eagerly push against him. Your head is fuzzy, filled with him, everything is him.

His warmth, how soft he feels, his hair under your fingertips.

It’s driving him crazy how easily he drives you crazy.

When he finally manages to pull away, he’s disoriented. His hair is a mess, his eyes trained on your love-stuck eyes and your swollen lips.

It takes him a minute of the close proximity to get his head clear. He suddenly shoves you back against the wall again as he pulls a few steps back.

He swallows thickly as he tries to get his barring together. Straightening his uniform shirt he quickly points at you.

God that love-sick smile your wearing, it makes him sick. Sick in love- sick with vile he doesn’t know.

So he points at you and he says-

“Keep quiet about this. I-I can’t be seen with a 1-A loser.”

He doesn’t mean it. Not really.

But that’s okay.

You’ll steal these flustering moment alone where he moans into your mouth and clutches so tightly onto your hips while he lives in his beautiful delusion.

You’ll keep openly pining after him while he continues to hate on class 1-A.

It’s okay though. You know where you stand. So you’ll let him continue to loose his own mind figuring you out, not fully realizing the extent in which your all his.

OKAY THIS WAS RUSHED AND IM 50-50 WITH LIKING AND HATING IT BUT I LIKED THE ENDING SO IMA KEEP IT

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Your Mihawk has me weak on my knees so I wanted to request something for him.

S/O has scars on her body, mainly on arms. She does fight but some of them look… too precise. One time after she loses a fight she is really pissed and nervous, she goes to a place alone. There he sees her just giving herself a scar with a knife on her arm. Turns out she was taught scars are signs of losses and if she doesn't get one in battle then afterwards she needs to do it herself. That's why she's so determined to always win. She hates scars.

@patisilence tagging since I'm not sure if you'll get this since I had to save it as a draft to format everything right.

Anyway.

I DID IT I ACTUALLY FINISHED IT

I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG 😭😭

And I honestly really really want to thank you. This is my first ever fic-request, for one.

And also, writing this has been an absolute emotional rollercoaster. I have kind of a personal history with self-harm and I wanted to depict it as realistically as possible. Which resulted in heavy focus on character development, which resulted in this practically turning into a novella. I'm going to split it up into a few chapters to streamline things and link them all in this post.

If I do it right, then the entire thing should already be posted when I post this, but I'm still pretty new to Tumblr so bear with me. Each chapter should be between 3k-4k words.

And ALSO ALSO I've been planning a longer Mihawk X OC fic, and I really hope you don't mind me using this concept for it? Because it honestly ties a lot of things together for me

Soooooo without further ado, here's the whole author note thing.

Your Scars Are Mine

Ch. 1

LA! Mihawk X AFAB!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Mentions of Violence, I guess that's it, I'm bad at this

⚠️ MASSIVE ASS TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠️ : Self-harm, Blood, Implied PTSD

Summary: In the few months that he has known you, Mihawk has noticed the scars on your arm. You've refused to talk about them and skirted around the subject successfully, but a trip to Shells Town throws everything out into the open in a way that neither of you were prepared for.

Ch. 2

Ch.3

You were hiding something.

In the few months that Mihawk had known you, he had come to learn a fair bit about you. He knew, for instance, that you had over the past few years made something of a name for yourself as a sword for hire, typically among pirate crews who required a more discreet touch.

That this reputation of yours had led the Buggy Pirates to hire you to assist in stealing a map of the Grand Line from a Marine base in Shells Town. You had failed to procure the map before it was stolen by other hands, leaving you in their debt. Buggy had sunk your sloop to prevent your escape, and you had gotten stuck working for the ridiculous crew for a brief time, remained stuck with them until the Strawhat upstarts offered you passage with them.

Mihawk knew you had traveled with them as far as Baratie, where you had crossed his own path for the first time at the bar on the ship's deck. Where you had approached him with a bargain—if he left Roronoa Zoro alive after their duel the following morning, you would serve him for a year, an errand girl to send off on whatever menial tasks the World Government assigned him.

"And why would I want a little bird flitting around after me around for an entire year?" Mihawk had asked coolly.

And yet you had made a fair point—acting as a government lapdog was growing old. He had been sent after the vice admiral's grandson, for heavens' sake, as if he had nothing better to do with his time than to handle the old fool's family disputes.

Though the surly pirate warlord wouldn't have dared to dream of admitting it at the time, you had his attention. Your offer of unquestioned devotion, your confident demeanor as you sipped a glass of whiskey and kept your eyes on his without showing an ounce of fear or intimidation. You were certainly an interesting diversion from the otherwise dull task that had been laid before him, and your certainty that he would accept your offer had irritated and intrigued him in near equal measure.

It was intrigue that won out in the end. He had left his challenger clinging to the edge of life and taken you with him on his departure. You stayed toe to toe with him in wit and banter, and that alone would have been more than enough to draw him closer to your charm. He had wanted you before two weeks were out, wanted to claim you as far more than his "errand girl," and it was easy to see from the way you effortlessly returned his subtle flirtations that you wanted the same.

And now you were lying back across his broad chest in the hammock aboard your new sloop, a book open over your chest and his hand resting over your stomach, his other tucked under his neck as he frowned thoughtfully up at the roof of the small ship's cabin, pondering over the whirlwind of events that had led up to this moment.

It had been just over two months since the pirate lord had taken you as his lover, and you had been an open book about most things. Your training under your grandmother. Your setting out on your own from a small island village to find your parents, or some clue of their disappearance. The many and varied pirate crews you had served as a hired hand.

Yet you refused to discuss your scars.

Any seafarer with a history as sordid as your own had their share of battle scars. Mihawk had a fair few of his own; one didn't become the most renowned swordsman in the world without a few losses, after all. Yet your voice turned to clear contempt when yours were mentioned, even in passing, and you tensed like a statue when his hands brushed over them. You were confident to the point of near arrogance, yet you clearly held nothing but shame and contempt for the many marks that marred your delicate skin.

Some of which appeared oddly...uniform, for having been gained in battle.

It was in part—in great measure, honestly—the mystery of you that had drawn him in to begin with, and this was just another mystery that Mihawk intended to unravel.

You closed your book abruptly, stirring him from his thoughts as he glanced down at you. He watched you gaze thoughtfully toward the ceiling for a long moment, your hand resting over his at your stomach, before you finally spoke up.

"Reading a book is just staring at a dead tree and vividly hallucinating."

You tilted your head back, grinning as his mouth turned down in a frown and his brow furrowed at your ridiculous statement. Mihawk sighed wearily, plucking the book from your hands and lightly rapping you over the forehead with it.

"No," he scolded, as you giggled softly. He sighed heavily again, dropping the book over the back of the hammock before pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Are you trying to give me a stroke?"

"No," you said, imitating his scolding tone. You stretched your arms out over your head, arching your back for a moment, before rolling over to lay across his chest and brush your lips to his. "But it's fun seeing the look on your face."

"You irritate my very soul, little one," he said, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"And I enjoy every second of it," you countered, grinning as you laid your forehead against his.

"I can tell."

Your grin managed to draw a small smile from him, before he lifted a hand into your hair and pulled you down into a slow, deep kiss. Your fingertips came to rest at his broad shoulders, the hammock swaying slowly in the steady ocean waves carrying the ship along. He knew as well as you did that he wasn't honestly irritated—your strange sense of humor had grown on him, as starkly as it contrasted to his dry sarcasm, and he rarely had the pleasure of meeting anyone as adept at keeping up with his own banter.

You lay your cheek at his shoulder when your lips parted, your eyes slipping shut and your contented sigh tickling against his neck.

"If the wind holds steady it will be a few hours before we make port," you said, your voice low and soft. "I suggest we don't move from here in the meantime."

"I'm not sure I've ever heard a finer suggestion."

Mihawk pulled one of your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. He pulled his hat down over his eyes to block out the sun pouring through the windows of the small cabin, tucked his hand back behind his neck again, and shifted beneath you to get comfortable as he closed his eyes. His arm remained curled around your waist, his hand slipping just beneath the hem of your shirt so his thumb could rub slow circles over your soft skin as you both drifted off toward the peaceful recess of sleep.

The first thing that struck Mihawk when he woke was that you weren't in his arms.

Every day and night for nearly two months, he had fallen asleep and woken with you against him, and the absence of your warmth jarred him instantly awake and aware. His eyes scanned around his surroundings as he sat up, taking in where he was—the small cabin of the sloop he had recently bought you as a replacement for the one Buggy's crew had sunk.

His sharp yellow eyes darted toward the door, taking in the sound of unfamiliar, muffled voices outside the cabin.

He was standing in an instant, straightening his hat and pulling Yoru onto his back as he slipped silently through the door and onto the small deck of the sloop.

There was another sloop tethered to yours.

A pair of no-name pirates holding you against the bow ny your arms, their captain pressing the barrel of his pistol to your forehead as they bickered.

"There has to be something on board."

"We could just take her. Looks like she's probably a feisty little thing."

"Still have to check the cabins. Could be—"

Mihawk cleared his throat.

The trio turned their heads in almost comedic synchrony, their jaws dropping at the mere sight of him leaning against the door of the cabin. Mihawk's eyes flickered from them to you, and you averted your eyes, clearly ashamed to be seen in such a compromising situation.

So he shifted his gaze back to the opposing pirates, his eyes flickering between each of them.

"You will remove your hands from the girl or I will gladly remove them for you," he said levelly, lifting his eyebrows.

They quickly let go of your arms, and stepped away when he moved forward to wrap a hand around your wrist and pull you to him. He curled his arm around your waist, lowering his head over yours for a moment and murmuring quietly, "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head no quickly, your jaw set at a rigid angle as you turned your gaze down to your feet, your shoulders tense. He pressed a light kiss to your temple for a long moment before lifting his gaze back to the trio that had dared board your ship, his eyes narrowing in an unspoken threat.

"Go." They remained frozen, glancing between each other. "Now."

They scrambled back over to their ship immediately, severing the ropes that were tethering it to yours. Mihawk kept his arm around you, but his eyes remained trained onto the opposing sloop as it drifted away on the wind, debating on just drawing his sword and splitting it in half on the spot.

He turned his attention back down to you when you began to pull away from him. He pulled you in close again, frowning. It wasn't at all like you to be bested by a few no-names, and it was clear that you weren't taking it very well.

"Tell me what happened," he said finally.

"I woke up," you said curtly. "Thought I'd check the charts and see how far we were from Shells Town. They were already on the deck. Seemed to think this was a small merchant vessel since there's no flag. I'd left my knives in the cabin and I was still half asleep when I came out here. By the time I registered what was going on, one of them had a pistol to my head."

You really weren't making a very good case for him to not sink their boat. He cut his eyes briefly toward the sloop before looking back down at you, your face shadowed by your hair as you stared down at the deck floor.

"Their captain started questioning me about cargo," you continued. "Told them there wasn't anything valuable on board. They were discussing taking me as compensation." You sighed heavily. "And that's when you chose to enter stage left and take approximately twenty years off the end of their lives."

He rolled his eyes the slightest bit at your quip. "I would have taken a great deal more than that had they hurt you."

"Well, they didn't," you replied, your voice still curt. Mihawk lifted an eyebrow. "And it's perhaps best not to go splitting any boats in half a stone's throw away from a naval base," you added, nodding back toward the bow of the vessel.

Mihawk gave a quick glance as well. He had been too focused on the fiasco he had just awoken to to notice that Shells Town was visible on the horizon now. It wasn't as if the Marines could do much about it if he did sink the sloop, but you were right—it would still be more of a hassle than it was worth. He sighed, shaking his head a little, and curled a hand under your chin to lift your gaze to his. You still kept your eyes averted, your jaw set. He hadn't seen you lose a fight before—apart from sparring with him while training, but that hardly counted.

You had proven to be quite the fighter when he had decided to test you. You were nowhere near his equal, but you knew precisely how to play to your strengths with your pair of daggers and your throwing knives. Your stature made you difficult to target even in single combat, your movements a graceful dance that toed the line between evasion and power.

Yet one loss—and a rather inconsequential loss, at that—and you were beating yourself up over it quite a great deal more than what constituted normalcy. Mihawk wasn't sure whether to scold you for being dramatic or attempt to comfort you.

"You were caught off guard, little one," he said after a long moment, brushing a thumb across your cheek. "There's no need to be so upset over that."

"I'm not upset, I'm annoyed," you retorted, pursing your lips a little. "Blades or no, I should have been able to take care of those idiots."

"Annoyed, then," he allowed with a small sigh. "And I've no doubt you would have had I not woke. I was simply able to handle it a bit more...subtly."

"Oh, yes, because sauntering out onto the deck with a giant sword and threatening to cut off their hands was so subtle," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you finally rolled your eyes over to his, lifting your eyebrows.

"Don't be a brat," he chided lightly. "We still have at least half an hour before we make port." Mihawk abruptly wrapped his hand around your chin and pressed his lips to yours in a brief, deep kiss that made you draw in a sharp breath. He parted just as you started to lean into it, resting his forehead against yours. He lowered his voice to an intimate murmur. "I would truly hate to have to spend it punishing you, my little bird."

You quirked an eyebrow, your lips curving in a small, coy smirk. "No you wouldn't."

He gave you a thoughtful frown and a small shrug of his shoulder. "Perhaps not." You let out a small cry of alarm when he stooped down and quickly scooped you up from the deck floor, one arm beneath your knees and his other curled around your back. "I suppose we'll just have to find out."

You chuckled lightly as he carried you to the door of the main cabin, plucking his hat off of his head and placing it on your own as you brushed your lips to his in a soft, teasing manner. Mihawk lifted his eyebrows when you nipped lightly at his bottom lip.

"You're really pushing your luck, my dear," he cautioned.

He lowered you down to the double bed in the cabin, his thumb rubbing small circles at the back of your neck. You lifted yourself onto your elbows, your lips nearly brushing his before he pulled back just far enough to stop you, lightly gripping your hair at the nape of your neck to keep you from sitting up any higher. You gave a small whine of protest, but didn't try to struggle against his grip—you and he both knew there was no point.

"Lie down." His voice remained low and intimate, but there was a subtle command in his tone, in the way his gaze burned into your own. You bit your bottom lip lightly, lowering yourself back down onto the bed fully. A soft, quivering sigh left your lips as he slowly began slipping the buttons down the front of your shirt loose. "Hands over your head. And you don't move them an inch until I tell you you can."

"Mmm..." You hummed thoughtfully, and Mihawk paused in unbuttoning your shirt as you lifted your arms from the bed, holding your hands high above you, straight up in the air. "I think my arms might end up getting tired."

Your lips pursed a little, clearly struggling to keep a straight face, and he lifted an eyebrow at you. "You're certainly in rare form today."

Mihawk wrapped his hand around both of your wrists, shoving your hands down into the plush white comforter over your head, and a couple giggles escaped you before you bit your lip again. It was honestly a bit endearing, how cheeky you were being—and all the moreso, as it appeared you were being so brazen just so he could have his fun with your punishment.

You were enticing him more and more every passing day, beyond the physical desire that had led him to claim you as his a couple months ago. It wasn't a feeling he was particularly accustomed to, nor was he quite sure what to make of it yet. He knew only that when he had seen you held captive against the bow of the boat, an emotion had flashed through him for a moment that he hadn't experienced in years.

For the briefest moment, Dracule Mihawk had felt fear.

He was not ready to contend with the connotations of that.

And he was a bit too busy at the moment, anyway. He let his forehead touch yours, his lips hovering a breath away from your own.

"You don't move your hands," he repeated, tilting his head to just barely graze his lips against your neck, drawing a small moan from your lips, "until I give you permission. Understood?"

"Yes, sir..." you sighed softly, your eyes slipping shut as he kissed down your collarbone, pushing your shirt open. His hand released your wrists and trailed down your arms, down to knead at the soft tissue of your breast through the sheer lace of your bra, feeling your nipple harden against his palm. He tugged the cups down, just a bit too hard given he felt one of them tear in his grasp, but that was a problem for later, not now.

You gasped out when he briefly pulled one of your stiff nipples into his mouth, his grip tightening slightly around your ribcage as you arched your chest toward his swirling tongue. His gaze flicked up to watch you writhe and shudder under his touch, your fingers digging into the bedsheets behind you, your hands searching for anything to keep occupied with.

"Very good," he praised, lifting a hand to brush a few strands of hair out of your eyes and brushing his lips to your jaw. "You see?" He wrapped his hand around your jaw and lightly pressed his lips to yours. "It's much better when you're a good little bird, isn't it?"

"This—doesn't feel much like a punishment," you commented, gasping softly as he circled the pad of his thumb around your nipple, lightly skimming across it once or twice.

"Yet," he corrected.

And gave you a small, devilish smirk, before lowering his head and biting down on the tender skin at the crook of your neck. Just hard enough to leave behind a small bruise, to draw a sharp cry from your lips and send a shiver through your body.

He straightened out as you heaved a sigh, standing over you. Your eyes remained glued to him while he shrugged away his long coat and tossed it back into a chair behind him, noting how your hands tightened down on the bedsheets again.

"Remember we still have a half an hour before we reach Shells Town." His fingertips curled around the waist of your shorts, the lace of your panties beneath them, and slowly inched them down your hips. "I could spend the entirety of it teasing you." Mihawk noted the movement in your throat as you swallowed in nervous anticipation, your eyes glued to his as he pulled them up the length of your legs and off, flinging them aside. "Making you beg for release but never allowing you the satisfaction."

How beautiful it was that it only took a few words to pull a blush to your cheeks and make your breath hitch. He brushed a light kiss to your calf and pushed your legs apart, rubbing his palms up your inner thighs.

"You're going to have to be on your best behavior if you want more, my sweet little bird." Trailing a single finger up your soft folds, dragging through your slick arousal and across your clit, pulling a small whimper from your lips. "Or would you rather I just torment you?"

You bit your lip, shaking your head quickly, your eyes flickering between his eyes and his fingertips trailing up. It was a struggle for him not to chuckle at you—always just cheeky enough to be amusing, but you knew the pleasure he could give you, were so desperate for it that you folded like a cheap deck of cards under his slightest touch.

Absolutely perfect.

Mihawk moved his hands up from your thighs, curling an arm under your back to lift you up and shift you further back on the bed. Your breathing was ragged with anticipation as he brushed his lips to your stomach, trailing his hands back down to your hips, his lips lower and lower, grazing slowly across the soft skin between your hip bones.

Shifting lower and dragging his tongue slowly up your slit, circling the sensitive bud at the apex, giving a quiet growl of approval as your breathy, shuddering moans filled the small cabin and your hips arched in his hands.

His gaze turned up toward your face, watching you draw closer to falling apart with every passing moment. This was only the beginning, and he still hadn't decided if he was going to give you what you wanted...but the sight of your divine, nearly naked and writhing under his touch with his hat still resting on your head made him just a little weak.

He moved from between your legs before he could get lost in the sight of you and the sweet sounds of your moans, reveling in the agonized whimper that left you as he trailed his mouth back up your stomach.

Across to your ribs, pausing at your breasts to brush his lips and his skilled tongue across your sensitive nipples.

Dragging his tongue up the column of your throat, seizing a fistful of your hair and crushing his lips to yours in a deep, possessive kiss, shoving your hip down onto the mattress to keep you from grinding against him, shifting his hand between your thighs to circle a finger around your tight entrance without pushing in. Your low moans and whines of protest were like music to his ears, your knuckles gone white from the force with which you gripped at the sheets over your head to keep your hands from wandering.

Every slow pass up and down your body brought you closer to the peak of pleasure but never quite there—and brought him closer and closer to caving in and giving it to you. He had to wonder whether you had any idea just how much of a temptation you were to him. It had been years since the pirate lord had allowed any woman to affect him quite as strongly as you had.

How much time had passed couldn't be ascertained for sure when he reached his breaking point—his mouth pressed into the crook of your neck while you moaned and begged desperately in his ear, one of his hands squeezing your breast hard enough to bruise the soft flesh while his other worked his belt buckle open and shoved his pants down his hips in a desperation that rivaled yours.

He shoved your open shirt up your shoulders and arms and flung it away; gripped one of your thighs, pushing your leg up as high as it would go, and the low growl that left his throat as he thrust into you was drowned out by your own cries of abandon. Your hips arched up from the bed to meet his, one of your arms flinging around his neck and your hooking beneath his arm to grip hard at his shoulder.

"I don't recall giving you permission to move," he breathed into your neck. He gritted his teeth as he pushed his hips forward hard, shoving yours back down into the bed as you cried out again, your slick walls tightening around his cock.

"I—I'm sorry, I can't—I can't—please—" You gasped, your head falling back as he moved in you in deep, hard thrusts, your fingernails dragging down his back. "Oh God, please—"

He lifted a hand to grasp at your hair as he crushed his lips to yours, delving his tongue into your mouth and drawing in a deep breath as you moaned desperately into the fierce kiss. The prospect of punishing you, of what the hell he had even been punishing you for was forgotten in this rush of unquenchable lust and desire, of pure carnal need for your body.

He normally hated losing control, but this was on another level entirely. There was no room to hate this, no room for anything but pure pleasure, for getting lost inside you as your walls tightened around his cock, as every muscle in his groin tensed and tightened in anticipation of impending release—

Your lips breaking away from his, your cry of abandon as your climax swept over you pulled him right over the edge with you. He pulled your hip up from the bed to slam into you as he came, gritting his teeth against a low groan, the rhythmic contractions of your tight channel milking him dry. His hips jerked toward yours with each intense wave of pleasure, fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed his lips to your neck, the two of you shuddering and tangled together over the bedsheets.

Mihawk heaved a shuddering sigh into the crook of your neck, his fingers tangled in your hair as he brushed his thumb across your temple. Maybe it was the lingering euphoria, but he didn't even think about the next words that left his mouth before he heard them himself.

"God dammit, (Y/N), I love you."

But it was impossible to deny any longer. You really were everything he had never realized he craved. No, it wasn't just the euphoria in the moment—it was that brief flash of fear earlier at the thought of you being hurt, at the thought of losing you. The utter fury at the morons who had briefly held you captive. How perfectly you balanced and complemented his desires.

He felt as much as heard you draw in a small gasp beneath him. "Y—you—wh—?"

"You heard me," Mihawk interrupted your quiet, almost cautious stammering, murmuring against your neck. He brushed his lips against one of the small, round bruises he had left on the soft skin, and said it again, quietly, "I love you."

You were quiet for a long moment, but he wasn't concerned, still trailing kisses up the side of your neck. He had seen it in your eyes before now, heard it in the softness of your voice when you lay against him, your fingers in his hair and your lips brushing his.

Several seconds passed, before you turned your head slowly and pressed your lips to his, tentatively at first, and then deepening the slow kiss with a soft sigh. He shifted onto his side, tugging you to him by your hip. Your forehead came to rest against his as your lips drifted apart, still barely a breath away, your eyes closed, your voice a quiet whisper.

"I...love you."

(Ch. 2)

[vellichorsmystique]

Tea in a Bar

⭒ Husk x gn!reader

⭒ w.c. ~1.9k

⭒ Meant to be read as a sort of pre-relationship ficlet. Just a silly little drabble I needed to get out of my system. Mainly fluff, implied (?) angsty undertones at some point, there is comfort.

⭒ No use of y/n... I mean Alcohol is mentioned? So fair warning for that, reader themself doesn't drink anything of the sort in this specific fic. No spoilers in terms of the Hazbin Hotel series.

⭒ A new sinner in the hotel only means another headache for Husk to endure as he listens through drunken rambles. However that doesn't appear to be the case as this specific sinner tends to just bask in his presence. There's not much to go on, and as much as he should be wary of them, he can't help but be intrigued.

The newest guest is strange. The thought brazenly bounces around Husks skull, as he discreetly flashes a few wary glances at the figure sitting at the bar top. He elects to ignore the fact that today's version of “discreetly” translated into occasionally looking up (to oogle) from the glass he had currently been wiping dry before peering back down. He also decides not to fixate on the truth that this is the same shot glass he had picked up an hour ago. 

It’s uncanny really, how can you sit there so serene, eyes closed in something akin to bliss? Husk is openly staring at you once more, mouth slanting into some sort of neutral frown, as you shifted in your spot on the flimsy stool. Every night without fail since your first appearance at the hotel, you seemed to have made it your personal goal to purposely confuse him. Why? He has absolutely no clue. His proof? Non-existent. 

That wasn’t even the infuriating part, it was merely the fact that your actions were definitely not motivated by some extrinsic goal, it wasn’t like you actively had it out for him. Husk prided himself on his exemplary skills of reading people and while there was this air of mystique that surrounded the likes of you (all too comfortably familiar to the source of his chained ire) you weren’t trying to usurp his current life. At least not in the moment that is. 

Before he can grumble internally about the stupid predicament he found himself in he becomes all too aware of the warmth of your scrutiny. Damn, sure he was doing a piss poor job at sneaking peeks at you, but he didn’t actually think you’d catch him. However something about the mirth swimming your eyes clues him in on the embarrassing fact this probably was not your first time catching him. Your lips curl into a light smile, the corners barely twitching at what he assumed to be withheld laughter. 

“Is there something wrong?” Your words are less of a question and more of a tease which only prompts a withering glare in your direction. Almost foolishly he hopes it’s enough to ward you off, it’s not of course, and he’s proven once more how futile it is for a sinner to do something as silly as hope. Unperturbed by his nasty stink eye, you rest your head in your palm and raise a brow in goading fashion. Ear twitching he goes back to dutifully swiping the glass held in his paws. 

“Nothing, just stuck wondering why there’s a fucking weirdo sitting at my bar?” You have the gull to wave him off with a bark of laughter. 

“Me? Weirdo? Unlikely,” His brow furrows at that as he flashes you an unamused look. 

“More likely than you seem to think, who sits at the bar hours on end, and doesn’t order anything to drink,” He tried to keep up with the insult, however as he rasped out the words, he couldn’t hide the genuine curiosity that filtered in the latter half of his statement. Your laughter subsides, and you idly trace a fingertip on the grains of  the bartop, lips quirked in gaiety. 

“Touche, but I raise you this, who uses a dirty rag to clean their glasses?” Subject change, of course, he honestly shouldn’t be surprised. 

“That–’ and he raises the shotglass higher more forcibly twirling the gunk filled rag around on the inside, ‘is very much intentional,” 

“Hmm, and that is exactly why I don’t get drinks here,” Grinning you leaned back on the stool, palms flat against the wooden top as you loosened some sort of crick in your neck. Your tone is too pacifying and he doesn’t buy it. Nose scrunching he rolls his eyes, before resting his forearm on the bar, brows raised knowingly at you. 

“But that’s not the reason,” And there it is, the enigmatic grin that should probably push him away instead of drawing him in closer. Something swims in the depths of your eyes, something that one day he’ll decipher, but for now whatever you're hiding under lock and key stays indiscernible for today. 

“No it’s not,” You echo demurely. He groans, he was too sober for all of your mental gymnastics. The conversation lulls for a moment or two before you tilt your head towards the array of spirits and liqueurs  behind him.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any sort of tea?” Tea? Seriously? He doesn’t waste breath looking, instead just briskly focusing on his task at hand.

“No, this is a bar– not some sort of fucking cafe,” Sighing almost wistfully you slide off the barstool, and he regards your actions in surprise. 

“What a shame, it’s getting late anyways I think now is a good time to start turning in for the night regardless,” He grunts, blinking slowly, was that what it took to get you to leave? Tail cutting through the air, he shrugs his shoulders brushing the thought away. It’s not like he cared that much…. 

“Oh and Husk?” Your voice takes a suspicious lilt that has his ears twitching. 

“Despite your choice of dish towel I’m pretty sure that shot glass is clean enough, you’ve been holding it for what– an hour now?” He slams the aforementioned glass on the grainy top as your laughter fades, but the worst part is he’s not even annoyed by the fact you were aware. Yeah… you were a really fucking strange guest here. 

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

You take longer than normal to come sit at the bar. He ignores the discomfort that prickles at the realization. Just when he decides to go ahead and begin the methodical process of closing everything up for the night, he hears the lobby doors open. The sound echoes in the expanse of the empty lobby, and finally through slitted irises he can make out your silhouette tiredly plodding through. 

Back and shoulders hunched, you look withdrawn, a total one-eighty from your normally exuberant personality you always seemed to have when you pestered(read: visited) him. Footfalls heavy, the bar stool croaked when you finally settled over it. Yawning, your upper half pitched forward, and you pressed your face into your crossed arms on the table. 

“‘llo Husk,” the words are a mumbled and muffled mess emanating from the crook of your arm where your head was buried. If it weren’t for the ear he had angled in your general direction he probably would not have picked up on it. Frowning, he glanced down at his paws. Today was different, you never seemed like the type to “showcase” your more or less weak spots where others could see? Something in the sinner’s chest seizes up. Was this an inadvertent form of trust? Deciding not to dwell for too long on the implications for such an idea, he instead coughs out loud into his fist. Rather dramatically. 

“The fuck’s up with you?” And he hates the fact you’ll notice the bite gone from his voice. Almost petulantly your shoulders rise and fall, a vague impression of a shrug due to your current position. 

“Alright, not in a talking mood then, fine,” He gets it, and he wasn’t going to push or prod your boundaries just to satiate the itch of curiosity. Peripherals catching the tell tale sign of movement his slit pupils lock onto your own irises from where you angled your head to the side in order to properly look at him. Expression almost distraught, he can only watch the way you tug your lip against your teeth internally battling over something. Before you sniffle and rasp out quietly. 

“I just… don't want to be alone in my room right now,” The admission is point blank, no allusions, or disarming smiles to disguise the truth. Some remote part of his brain will probably play the vulnerability of this moment on replay when he’s alone in his bed, with a pillow to bury himself into. For now, he elects to breeze past the info, mentally tiptoeing around whatever aftershocks your bombshell just resulted in. 

“Well if ya don’t want to talk, then maybe you’ll want a drink instead,”  Your expression twists, and you move to sit up some sort of reply building on the tip of your tongue, before he is turning his back to you. When he’s facing you once more your eyes widen to see not a shot glass in his hand, but a teacup. It’s humorous really, the cup disproportionate to the size of his clawed fingertips, still he holds the most likely plastic chalice like it’s fine china. 

All too soon the cup is waiting to be sipped from in front of you, and Husk is left to tap a claw rhythmically as he waits for you to taste test it. You hands wrap reverently around the drink, and you bring it up closer in order to properly take a whiff. As you nurse the steaming cup in your grasp he can make out the light aroma of apples and some more floral notes. With his freehand he scratches at the fur on his nape, prickling as he awaits your verdict. 

“It’s uh…”

“Chamomile,” You softly answer for him, still entranced by the liquid.

“Yeah, that,” When you finally look at him your eyes are wide and mouth parted ever so slightly; you were looking at him as if what he just handed you was a free get into heaven ticket, and not some mediocre tea he had made in wait for you to arrive. He breaks eye-contact, blood roaring in his ears as goes back to tapping some sort of melody on the wood. You finally bring the vessel to your lips savoring the taste of the tea, and a syrupy sweet grin inches across your expression. Husk finds the grin to fit better than that frown from earlier. 

Tea long since finished, he found himself caught in idle chatter as he scrubbed away the days worth of muck and stains. This time armed with a moderately cleaner rag thanks to your insistence. Tone impossibly fond you spiel your thanks once more.

“Really Husk, thank you, the tea was the perfect pick-me-up,” 

“Ah, quit blowing it out of proportion. I didn't do much,” You only laugh once more at his vehemence in not accepting your gratitude. Humming thoughtfully, you straightened up as an idea struck. 

“You know…Chamomile is absolutely divine when mixed with Vodka,” Husk sends a prudent glance in your direction. Though you can practically see the interest he has in the idea with how he paused everything he was doing. Almost in accusation he raises an offending claw. 

“I thought you didn’t drink?” the cheeky grin you reply with almost has him roll his eyes. 

“I never said I didn’t, I just prefer my spirits mixed with tea. They tend to mesh deliciously,” The corners of his lips lift into a barely there crooked grin as he shakes his head. 

“No I guess you didn’t” he echoes in reply.  Before you leave, much later compared to the past, you mention something about green tea and whiskey. A combination he would have to try tomorrow when you would decide to visit the bar. Distantly he found himself looking forward to what would undoubtedly be more visits from you. All for the tea and booze of course…. And maybe just maybe you too.

⭒ end notes: guys I'm so rusty-- ignore any and all spelling/grammar mistakes it's almost 3am as of posting, and I have a 9am lecture tomorrow. Honestly HH has like become my new hyper fixation so maybe I'll write some more stuff for it we'll see. If not, guess I'll see ya'll again in nine months when I'm suddenly struck with the urge to write something </3 /hj I definitely want to be more active and make more indulgent things so I look forward to it!!

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

yayyyy 💕 then can i ask for a scenario in which the reader, who’s a trans guy, volunteering to be the bride in the ghost groom scenario and threatening to stab anyone who says anything about him looking like a girl with platonic feng xin + mu qing and romantic hualian? (or just xie lian, since technically hua cheng is only there for like, .5 seconds lol)

(💥 anon)

Masculine Bride?

HuaLian x ftm(?)reader

IM SO SORRY 😔 I'VE HAD THE WORST FEW MONTHS OF MY LIFE BUT I LIVE I WILL BE COMPLETING REQUESTS AGAIN THANKS FOR NOT GIVING UP ON ME AGAIN GUYS ☺️🖤

____________________________________

☀️Feng Xin didn't want to be in this ridiculous mission at all. He has to deal with Mu Qing in disguise and he has to see Xie Lian who was once his best friend. So it feels a little awkward to him but he gets to see you too! So he's quite happy to see you and Xie Lian again

☀️When he finds out that the plan is to disguise as a bride he immediately says Nuh uh. No way he's doing that, Mu Qing would never live it down.

☀️But when you offer to disguise as the bride, since you do looke somewhat androgynous he's like great!

☀️He doesn't have to do it and he can protect you if you all get in harms way

☀️Honestly he's surprised you volunteered so quickly. Feng Xin knows you'd rather stay in your male form and he knows you don't like appearing feminine much these days. Gods do it all the time so Feng Xin doesn't mind. Have you seen Shi Qingxuan?

☀️So everything was going great, they got you dressed and the one village girl did your makeup so you didn't look like a clown. But then they ran into those annoying men again.

☀️ They were congratulating Xie Lian, Mu Qing, and Feng Xin for finding a pretty bride and even wanted to join up, but they all knew the men just wanted to eat off their success.

☀️So when you laughed and explained you did make a good bride even though you're a man, No one really laughed. The men had genuinely thought you were a woman sooo they try to call your bluff.

☀️You did in fact change forms to look more like a bride but it doesn't feel good to have every single feminine feature to be pointed out. You're used to it so you weren't going to say anything but the group of men freeze and their skin pales when you hear a crack behind you

☀️Feng Xin may or may not have broken a pillar. May or may not have damaged his own temple. . .

☀️it succeeds in shutting the men up because what man is able to just break a God's pillar?!

☀️Feng Xin has to admit he's pretty irritable, but hearing the group of men bully you just pisses him off. He knows he's supposed to be in disguise and not gain your attention but he can't stand by and watch you be passive about it.

☀️ When the men practically evacuate the area you only laugh softly and link arms with him saying, "I found my guard!" You already know it's Feng Xin🙄

🌕Mu Qing was also your best friend and you never really gave him the chance to distance himself from you like he distanced himself from Xie Lian.

🌕Mu Qing has been with you a long time and he knows you're more comfortable identifying as a man. He has no issue with it. It took some time getting used to but he doesn't care as long as you're happy.

🌕so hearing the group of men start pointing you out so blatantly ticks him off. He knows he can't harm mortals but he sure wishes he could.

🌕It's not against the rules to threaten them though, so when he threatened to cut off their hand because it's rude to point isn't against the rules either.

🌕You were surprised honestly, Mu Qing doesn't care about a lot of things and doesn't usually get violent unless it's with Feng Xin.

🌕but you laugh when the group of men run off and you lean on Mu Qing. Saying you're so happy to have your own personal protector

🪷Xie Lian doesn't really fight. It's not that he can't he just doesn't see a point to do so.

🪷but that doesn't mean he'll let people bully you either

🪷 You've stuck with him for awhile so you're used to just taking mean words in stride. Xie Lian has never let them get away with it though.

🪷So it comes as a Surprise to you all when Xie Lian uses rou'ye to tie the group of men up together and he "advised them to go away before something unfortunate happens"

🪷You smiles and kiss his cheek, linking arms with him with a smile.

🪷"You're cute when you're protective"

[helluvapurf]

*deep breathes* Sooo, those last couple mins from the latest "Full Moon" ep... lets talk about that🍵🍵

Welp, here it is folks... the ep that finally gave us that hyped up "Asmodeon crystal" exchange teased at in the S2 Pt. 2 trailer. And... hooooo boi, I have formed so. many. thoughts. upon rewatching that scene a few times. Some that are... kiiiinda on the rant-y spectrum the more I lingered on 'em, so how bout I share them here lmao

Fair warning in advance, this maaaaay not be particularly "nice" to Stolas in these rambling thoughts, so if anyone out there's a big Stolas(+itz) fan... yall might wanna skip reading ahead- lol .w.;;

*claps*

Okay, so to start things off on a (semi?) positive note, the animation & lighting here is quite beautiful to look at. The glittery curtains, the shine in Blitz's eyes throughout his shifting emotions, even the shots of that one broken chandelier (which I thiiink might've been the same one him & Stolas played under as kids?) was a neat bit of symbolism ngl.

Props to Brandon Rogers as well for his voice-performance on Blitz here cause... gawd did it hit me in the heart how much hurt you feel from his yelling ;-;💔

Curious to see more of the use of Blitz's new Asmodeon crystal in future adventures (esp from that one shot in the trailer w/ him using the portal effects against the DHORK crew), it looks cool~ ✨👍

....ummmm, ok I think that about covers my positives atm. Onto the problems I have with this exchange:

Stolas... okay, you were this close to actually doing a good job ending the Full Moon deal. Admitting to how "wrong" the transaction part of their dynamic was, allowing Blitz more "freedom" via-the crystal (that could also help avoid any legal issues that the Grimoire gave), even wishing him good luck with his I.M.P. business as the night drew to a close... ...buuuuut then Stolas just had to muddle everything up by his whole "even tho you don't have to be with me, I want you with me if you want it~🥺" ...which honestly came off selfish to me than anything else?? Like, dude... if you really ARE regretful of how long you let this deal go for, and truly DO want to let Blitz go... you CAN'T throw in such sappy, lovey-dovey words on top of that?? Otherwise, how can one blame Blitz for getting as confused & flustered as he was throughout that convo... you've basically just sent even more mixed-messages in the grand scheme of things, my dude-🤦‍♀️

"I have wanted you for SO long, the fact that you couldn't believe that I might have these feelings about you, that your first instinct is that its always about sex..." ...Ummmmm Stolas... did you seriously forget HOW this whole deal of yall's started?? 🤨 Waaaay back in the initial-series pilot, to the first official ep, and pretty much the majority of Season 1:

As far as I checked, Blitz wasn't the one who kept making everything about sex... that. was all. YOU. 😒Heck, literally one of the first things you told Blitz upon reuniting as adults in "The Circus", was that you expected he wanted to "ravish" you-

-so like, get outta here with the whole pushing-the-perv-responsibility-bs onto Blitz... you ain't helping your case >>

Finally... like, it was already getting bad enough by the point of Blitz begging & pleading out of fear he'd lose his livelihood without the book, AND not being allowed space to breathe after getting further pushed away (and thus, more pissed off-)... but THEN on top of all this, Stolas just haaaaad to throw in this lil gem: "Blitz... I think so very highly of you. I didn't realize you think so low of me..." ...Stolas, with all due respect... stfu with that lousy, last-minute uwu-ing self-pity party crap😑Just because you TRIED to show more attentive care & concern post-"Ozzie's", outside of the typical bedroom stuff... that ain't gonna prove shit if you're not gonna be consistent with it. Where was that "high opinion" of Blitz during the two of you getting stuck in the sitcom set during "Seeing Stars", when Blitz was having that panic attack performing live, where all you ended up doing was... just hitting on him/praising his bedroom skills again?? 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

Like... couldn't you have just, I dunno... TRY to actually cheer him up/comfort him like an actual friend, would? Encourage him on his jokes, "just be yourself", promising another way out of there on his own merit... literally, anything could've worked fine and it wouldn't have come off so skeezy imho >>;;

...*sighs* so, yeah... thats basically what I had to get off my chest regarding the ending of "Full Moon". Honestly, had the writers actually committed to Stolas cutting off Blitz (even if harsh), giving the crystal with no strings, then going about their separate ways afterwards, I would've been totally fine with the scene tbh. But all this... odd lowkey-blaming of Blitz thrown in, the sappy words, and Stolas not once actually-apologizing during all this (Like, literally I checked and the only utterance of "sorry" seemed to come from Blitz's end before he got kicked out... for what, I dunno- 🤷‍♀️). Sorry for the length btw, but hopefully that about covers my thoughts on the matter-