#plus we all know that if he was gonna get anything done it would either be that surgery that makes you taller or a BBL

[cillixn]

Do you think Cilly's had any work done? Or do you think his beauty is all natural?

do i think the man who, after being asked what the biggest secret to his skincare is answered “uhhh… nivea?”, has had any work done? probably not.

he’s visibly aged (which is super hot), but he clearly takes care of himself, and i don’t think he cares about looking older, in fact, he seems like the kinda guy that embraces it, y’know? it’d be so weird to see him all botoxed and smoothed out like

[bluesidez]

The Love Lab presents:

Wash Day 🫧🚿

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

summary: Miguel offers to wash your hair because wash days can be a lot, mischief ensues.

content warning: 18+ MDNI, lots of fluff and banter, talks of marriage/proposal, lovey dovey!miguel, head scratching + massaging, p in v sex (wrap it up 🫵🏾, healthcare is expensive and so are babies), just the tip at one point, cussing, subby + service-like miguel (he does start to enter a daze that is similar to a sub drop, but it's not really that and the reader checks up on him immediately), needy!miguel, creative use of miguel's talons, kissing, hickys, a little hair pulling, manhandling, cunnilingus, fellatio, squirting, slight edging, praise kink, breeding kink towards the end, mentions of cum, overstimulation, a little aftercare, reader is a bit of a tease, miguel is a bit of a brat, more references to cats than I thought, no use of y/n

credit for the art/dividers: Me! (+ illustrator and canva)

a/n: This is my first fic that I am posting on here! 🤠 This one has been in the works for a while, but I am happy with the result. This story is written with a black reader in mind, but it's very inclusive minus the hair situation, so anyone can enjoy the story. There is one unrealistic part that NONE of my natural brethren would ever allow, I beg you to just go with it. 😭 I also used a little Spanish in here, to my Spanish-speakers, if anything is wrong, just let me know and I 'll change it right away!

I also imagined the shower to be one of those fancy walk-ins like this or this but big enough for two, because in my mind, Miguel is stacked in the money department as well.

word count: 6.9k (I got carried away)

To all my sub Mig lovers and fiends! Love ya! 🩵🪮

It was finally time for the day you’ve been putting off for about a week now, the taxing Wash Day.

Normally, you would drag this day out because you knew that once you started, you had to keep going until your hair was done and either ready for the bonnet or the hood dryer. Although today, you were lucky because you had a braid appointment the following morning, so that meant just a simple wash and a blow-dry. You were even luckier because your boyfriend, Miguel, was more than happy to wash your hair for you.

“I know how tired you get afterwards and I just want to help make the process easier,” is what you remember him telling you last night in your sleepy, whiny state.

Now, here you are the next day watching his eyebrows furrow in confusion, lips pouted in a crooked M as you guide him to the old faithful: the kitchen sink.

“Why are you giving me that face? You said you were gonna help,” you chuckle at his expression, watching as his eyes turn to your hair supplies littered across the counter.

“No, no! I still want to help. It’s just that,” he picks up your wide-tooth comb, running his fingers over the teeth, “I thought we were going to be in the shower.”

You look at him, a little dumbfounded at the statement. You didn’t mind washing your hair in the shower, you did it all the time, but what was the point of getting you both wet?

“I just thought it would be easier for you this way,” you reply, pulling the faucet from the sink and waving it around in an attempt to hype up the situation. “I’ll bend my head in the sink, and you’ll wash it that way. Or! You can hike me up on the counter and I can lay down with my head over the sink. That one’s a little less comfortable for me, but it gives you more than enough room to maneuver.”

“Hm,” he grunts, eyes going from you to the counter, then right back to you. “That’s fine and all, but what if my back starts to hurt from bending for too long.”

You just stare at him, unamused. If anyone would be in pain, it would be you.

“In the shower, we can stand together and I can see exactly what’s going on. Plus, you can wash my hair too,” he continues, pulling you flush against his chest, comb forgotten. He starts to rub your hips in a slow motion. “Let’s make it a date.”

“Ok, first of all, you’re not that old to where your back can just give out like that,” you quip, leaning back from his embrace to look him in the eyes. “Secondly, you expect me to believe that the Spiderman is unable to wash someone’s hair in this sink.”

“At 6’9? Absolutely.”

“Touché.”

Truthfully, Miguel was a bit turned on after spending the last 20 minutes watching you completely melt under his hands from scratching your scalp.

It was such a simple task but all of your sighs and whispers of “right there” and “harder” had him internally groaning.

When it was finished, you were up off the floor easily and blissfully unaware, while he was left with a few of your shedded curls covering his clothes and pre-cum threatening to seep into his underwear.

So yes, while technically the shower was the best option for him, he really wanted to ignite that same reaction from you again. It was addicting.

You reach up on your tippy toes and squish his face to give a quick peck to his lips. “Fine, fine! Quit your puppy dog eyes, we can go to the shower. Just let me pee first.”

Step 1 of Miguel’s master plan was already successfully underway.

He started to pick up your supplies, reading the ingredients out of curiosity. Today you were trying a new line of products that was making huge waves online. He remembers seeing how excited you were when the package came in. You had barrelled into the bedroom in a squealing frenzy, and had it not been for his spider senses listening out for you, he would have jumped from the way you threw the door open.

Even though it was another line of products that would fill up the bathroom cabinets, your giddiness rubbed off on him, so he was ready to see results.

“Baby, come on! I’m ready!”

Miguel quickly huddled up everything from the counter and made his way to the bathroom.

He walked in to see you standing next to the sink, birthday suit on and your hands reaching up to push your hair from your forehead.

Heaven-sent were the first words that came to mind. Here you were, standing in the steam of the bathroom just for his eyes. He couldn’t help but linger in the doorway, heart skipping a beat at the sight of you.

You turned to look back at him, mirth in your eyes, “Mig, come on, the water’s running.”

He didn’t even comprehend the sound of the water hitting the tiles, he was so zoned in on you.

“I’m coming, I was just…admiring you,” he replies, moving to prepare for the shower.

“There’s no way you’re eyeing me up right now. I look a little crazy,” you say, turning back towards the mirror.

“Querida, you could be rocking a spiked mohawk right now, and I would still have the same reaction. You’re beautiful no matter how your hair looks.”

You bit your lip, heart fluttering at his words. If you didn’t have to get ready for your hair appointment tomorrow, you’d stop everything then and there to love on your boyfriend.

For now, you settled on helping him out of his clothes, a smile growing on your face. You pulled his shirt up as far as you could reach, then let your hands roam over his chest, watching the goosebumps that followed behind. You kept your fingers walking down to the waistband of his pants, lightly scratching at his happy trail.

His stomach twitched in response to your touch, hands itching to pull you closer.

You placed your hands at his sides, gripping the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, slowly tugging at the bands. You stepped forward to get a better leverage, breasts pressing against his torso.

His breaths were coming out in short beats, not wanting to disrupt the spell that you put him under. He looked down at the closing space between you all’s bodies because if he looked up at your eyes, he’d stop everything and take you right there against the counter.

But the shower. He was supposed to make it to the shower. Which was in an area by itself. In the next room. With your hands roaming everywhere, he wasn’t even sure if he could even make it past the toilet.

His eyes fluttered closed as you slid your hands back up his thighs, a deep breath building in his lungs. Like this, he was really able to tune in on both the heat of your body against his and the lingering touch of your hands. Hyper-focused on you and you alone.

Then he heard a loud slap.

His eyes bucked back open, body rigid as the sting came back in waves on the side of his ass.

“Come on, we’ve got heads to scrub!” you said, voice as clear as ever.

He watched you twirl towards the shower, his mind muddled from your switch to playfulness. Had he read that all wrong?

He looked down and sighed at the sight of his dick, half-hard at what could have been.

All he could do was stagger out of the clothes that pooled at his ankles, grab the hair products, and waddle to the shower.

You were already halfway under the spray of the shower head, head leaning back, waiting for the water to completely soak through the layers of your hair.

Miguel came up next to you and detached the shower head, bringing it closer to your scalp, careful not to get water in your ears.

“So first, we have to use the scalp scrub shampoo,” you say, grabbing one of the taller bottles and unscrewing it. “Just take this in your hands first, lather it, and work it into my scalp.”

You pull his left hand forward and squeeze some of the liquid in his palm.

“Is this enough?” he asked, noticing the little amount you put in his hand.

“Yep! A little can go a long way, baby,” you say, turning around to him, trying to determine how you would reach the top of his head.

Oh, how Miguel was so well acquainted with that phrase. Especially after this cat-and-mouse game you’ve been playing with him all day.

You faced him as he placed his fingers on your scalp, beginning to move in circles, spreading the shampoo in several sections.

“You can add a little pressure. I can take it,” you mumble out, almost low enough for Miguel to miss it.

So he does. He starts to scratch at your scalp, remembering that this is an important step. For your hair of course, not his plan.

“Ugh, that feels so nice,” you sigh, trying not to sway under him. “I should have had you do this sooner.”

Miguel thought so too. Here you are, head leaned back, eyes closed, and completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. He kept scratching at your scalp, your head nodding along with the motions.

“Can you scratch over here, please?” you ask, pointing at the right side of your head, eyes squeezed tight to not let any soap fall in them. Even after all of your teasing, you were still so cute in this moment. When Miguel complied, you showed your gratitude by groaning out a quick thank you. With a long sigh, you placed your hands in front of his chest, fingers balled up in loose fists.

“Does it feel good?” Miguel knew the answer, but he had to play along. “You want me to move anywhere else?”

“Yeah, could you just-” you leaned your head over, mindlessly guiding Miguel’s hands. “Right there, baby.”

You brought your hands up to grip at his wrists, needing something to hold onto. Miguel felt insane.

To curb the feeling, he quickly leaned down and kissed your forehead. His head was overloaded with the sound of your voice and he had to keep himself composed.

You looked up at him, eyes big and wide at his affection. He kept making you feel warm doing such mundane things. You purse your lips, silently begging for more.

Miguel brought his soapy hands to the water to quickly rinse them off, then placed them on your cheeks and leaned down again to kiss your lips.

One. Two. Three pecks and you were giggling.

Four. Five. Six pecks and you were on your tiptoes, arms crossed behind his neck.

Seven. Eight. Nine pecks and you were turning your head, opening your mouth for more.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve kisses and you were in his arms, feet off the ground, biting at his bottom lip.

By the thirteenth kiss, you were pulling your head back, staring into his eyes, grabbing at his nape.

“We still have to wash the shampoo out,” you say, watching as his eyes linger on your lips.

“We can do that,” he mumbles, still holding you close.

“Are you gonna put me down?” you ask, tone a little cheeky.

He snaps his eyes up at yours, eyebrow raised. “Are you gonna finish what you started?” He started to move one of his palms down your back, taking a thigh to pull around his waist, and placing his mouth on your jaw.

“Nuh uh, O’Hara,” you chide, pushing against his chest and wiggling to get him to remove his embrace. The water smacks against the tiles as you jump down, one calf still in Miguel’s hand.

“O’Hara?” Miguel scoffed, playfully pulling at you again and tickling your side. “I’m not sure who that is, but maybe you forgot how to say baby, mi vida.”

You laughed at him, finally calling out his bluff, “No, because my baby said he would help me wash my hair, and right now he’s being bad and trying to distract me. So, until you finish, it’s O’Hara.” You folded your arms and tilted your head to the side, daring Miguel to counter your words.

He dropped your leg and muttered out a gruff “fine” with his lips downturned. Two could play at this game and if he wanted to distract you, he just had to turn up the heat.

He grabbed for the shower head and started to rinse the thick shampoo from your hair, carefully weaving through the locks.

“When do we detangle it?”

You started to smile again, happy at his verb usage. He really does listen to you when you talk about your hair.

“When we put on the conditioner, but you can start a little now while the water’s running on it. Need the brush?”

“No, I’ll just use my fingers for a little bit.”

You turned your face back to him, shocked that he remembered another technique.

“You’re gonna finger detangle, ba- I mean, O’Hara?”

“Yes I am, corazón. Why are you looking at me like that? I’m a great boyfriend that knows what his girl needs.”

You squint your eyes, wary at his words. “Uh huh, I bet you do. If you know so much, what’s next?”

“We shampoo again. Rinse. Then it’s conditioner and detangling, just like you said.”

You hummed, internally ecstatic that he actually did know the answer. “Another point for you,” you say, turning back around as Miguel places the shower head back on the hook.

Miguel smirked. He listened to you, he really did, but he also made sure to watch over 20 videos about washing coily hair while you were sleeping. You didn’t have to know that though.

His high was short-lived when you bent over to grab the next shampoo. He grabbed at your hips, watching as the swell of your ass aligned against his front. He pushed his head back and breathed in deep. How unfair.

You leaned back up slowly, turning the bottle around trying to fish for any specific directions.

“This one is a hydrating shampoo. It says you can just put it on my hair and just work it through.”

Miguel repeated the same shampooing process, although this time with less scalp scratching and more scalp massaging. You were once again in bliss at his ministrations, like a cat who couldn’t stop purring.

“O’Hara, you really have a way with your hands. Super relaxing,” you say with snickers underlining your voice.

Miguel just reached for the shower head, ready to rinse for the second time. “This guy sounds like a real catch. Too bad he isn’t here.”

You just laugh at how sulky he sounded, ready to grab the conditioner.

“Well, is there a Mr. O’Hara here? I kind of need him for this last step.”

Miguel stopped in his tracks.

You really didn’t understand how much he wanted to make you his wife. In fact, he started planning the proposal to a T after a year of you all being together. He started to dream about a future with you after the first couple of dates, despite how often he had to tell himself to slow down. It was terrifying yet thrilling how much you left an impression on his life.

Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara.

Mr. O’Hara.

Mrs. O’Hara.

Miguel bent his head in your neck and wrapped his arms around your waist, face burning from his running thoughts.

“Y-you can’t use that against me. You know how I get,” he said petulantly, voice softened in the juncture of your neck, drowned out by the pouring water.

“And how do you get, baby?” you ask, reaching over to run your fingers through his damp hair. You tugged lightly at the root causing Miguel to hug you tighter and groan against your neck.

As hot as the water was, the heat of your body against his left him burning. The angle was weird so he couldn’t exactly rub up against you, but he could kiss along the surface of your shoulders.

He started to slowly press kisses down your neck, moaning as you tilted your head to give him more space. He stopped to linger at the top of your shoulder, taking in a small amount of skin. After he was happy at the mark he left, he opened his mouth a little wider, canines grazing against your skin.

You reach to pull his head back up, resting his jaw on your shoulder.

“Focus, Mr. O’Hara, it’s only one more step.” You say these words lowly right next to his ear, pressing your lips on his tragus then pushing his head up to kiss against his jaw.

When Miguel stood up fully, you could see the dazed look in his eyes. Staring closer, you noticed they were a little dewey.

You had to bring him back down to Earth. You couldn’t have him lost in this steam.

“Hey, baby look at me,” you even your tone and angle his face towards yours. “Are you alright? Do we need to sit down?”

You wait for his eyes to find yours, searching for discomfort.

“No, I'm fine. I’m ok, sorry,” he says, leaning into one of your hands, wrapping his hand around it for extra support.

“Positive? I know the water is really hot so if you need to step out and cool down, then that’s fine. I’ll help you settle down then come back and finish up by myself,” you say, adamant in your words.

“No! No, no. I’m really ok. I’m so cool and calm right now that it’s crazy,” he replies, frantic at the thought of leaving you in the shower. “Hand me the conditioner.”

You look at him again, tickled at the change in condition. All you could do was sigh, twist the cap off of the conditioner, and pull the inner lid off.

He dabbed two fingers on top of the cream, scooping a small amount off of the top. “A little goes a long way, right?”

“A little does go a long way.”

“Can you turn around, please?”

You comply, placing the conditioner in a corner.

“If you need it to lather a bit more, just add a little water,” you remind him.

He began to work the conditioner through, going from the root to the ends. The results were quick and he could see your curls begin to sprout. He started to thoroughly pull his fingers through, working out any leftover tangles. He got to a bigger knot and held the section of hair in one hand, and carefully combed through the knot with the other.

You were feeling peaceful until it dawned on you: you never gave him a comb or a brush to work with.

“Hold on, baby what are you using to take the knots out with? Do you have a comb?”

Miguel placed one of his hands in your face and pushed his talons out, like a cat showing its claws off when you press the center of its paw.

You panic, remembering that they can tear through people and metal, “Um. I don’t think using these bad boys on my hair is the right way to go.”

“Tranquila, mi amor, I got it. I’m using the dull side, see?”

He put a tuft of hair in front of your eyes and showed the process of him detangling while talon-less, then working out the final tough knot with the side of the talon, turning his hand sideways to avoid cutting your curls.

As a result, the section was completely detangled, allowing him to run his fingers straight through the thick strands, and the curls springing back up once he was finished. Plus, from what you could tell, there was no breakage.

Color you impressed because Miguel was pulling out all of the stops today.

“Alright, just. Be careful.”

“Always.”

“If you jack up my hair, Lyla will have to place Jess in charge permanently.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You stand, arms placed under your chest, waiting for Miguel to finish. Subconsciously listening to the pattern of his breaths and the sound of his talon going through your hair.

“Ok, that’s it. Do you want to wash my hair while this sits?”

Such a smart boyfriend.

“Yeah just let me go ahead and finish this shower while you get your hair wet.”

Miguel stepped back to get under the overhead shower head, letting the water fall on him like rain, watching you as you began to lather body wash on your net sponge.

You were scrubbing away at your skin getting into every crevice, peach fragrance filling the air.

He wanted to reach out and touch you, but look where that’s gotten him so far. Almost kicked out of the bathroom.

You were just as stubborn as he was, no, resolute.

He admired it, especially when you gracefully brought him down from clouds that were his own fantasies.

Focusing back on you, he stared openly as you folded your body in half to reach your ankles causing everything to be on display.

A normal person would put their foot on the ledge to reach below. You were definitely fucking with him.

He watched as you pulled the net sponge across your body, leaning up as the languid movements of your hands pulled the net side to side.

He was glad that the water drowned out his harsh breathing.

You finished off your shower, working the detached shower head over the soap, clearing up your skin.

You brought the shower head lower, making sure that there was no bubble left behind.

When you held your ass to help the water pass all the way down the back of your body, Miguel jumped to hold the base of his cock, softly groaning at the picture you were painting.

He lifted his face up and pushed his hair back, in hopes that the stream could help him clear his mind. But, the water was hot, all it did was make him lightheaded at the thought of you.

“Miguel? Come over here so I can wash you too.”

Miguel tottered over, looking down at your body, shining after all your thorough work. You were placing soap on a pair of exfoliating gloves you had bought for him, lathering them together once you were satisfied with the amount of soap.

You got to work on his body, starting at the shoulders and moving in circular motions.

Miguel stared in silence, hoping you would put an end to this charade. But you continue to be meticulous, covering every inch of his upper body. Lifting his arms when you wanted to. Moving him around when you wanted to.

In this moment, he felt like a ragdoll, letting you do whatever you pleased.

You squatted down to do his lower body, eyes laser focused, not missing a spot.

All Miguel could focus on was your face so close to his dick that was twitching in anticipation. You just ignored it and continued to rub the rest of him down. Miguel wanted to cry.

You were touching everywhere, slowing down on his inner thighs and ass causing his knees to shake.

You held him steady by gripping the back of his thighs and finally looked up at him, acknowledging his presence.

Your eyes traced him all the way down to the gift that was in front of you. You parted your lips and let your tongue brush against the tip, watching as spurts of pre-cum escaped. You couldn’t have that. You leaned forward a little more, taking the head in completely, and allowed yourself a few more licks and a suck before you let go with a pop, watching the thin trail of spit grow as you leaned back.

Miguel whined in frustration, a cloud of desire fading so quickly.

“Amor, why did you-”

You quickly jumped up and rested against him, arms wrapped around his waist and hands lightly groping his butt.

“I didn’t even wash your hair yet, silly,” you quip, chin nuzzling against his sternum. “Now, go rinse off and sit on the bench so I can reach your hair.”

Forget wanting to cry, Miguel might actually do it.

He was so, so hard.

After the soap was gone he trudged to the bench, glancing over at you washing the conditioner out of your hair.

“I could have washed it out for you,” he protests, half bothered by his situation and half annoyed that he let it blindside him from the main point of this shower.

“It’s ok, baby. You really helped me out a lot today and I’m thankful. I’m also making sure you don’t drop to the floor right now, so hold on for me,” you reply earnestly, chuckling at the look of frustration slapped across Miguel’s face.

You bring over the hydrating scrub, some conditioner, and the shower head, and stand in between his legs, ready to start.

Miguel looked up at you like you hung the stars in the sky, undeniably in love and unbelievably aroused.

You started to unscrew the scrub, making sure to part his hair down the middle.

“You’re using your products on me?” he asked, confused at your actions.

“Just the shampoo. I don’t think this conditioner will do you any good, but for the most part, the line is pretty inclusive. Ain’t that neat?”

“Mm-hm,” he responded, cheeks squished against your chest, arms wrapped around your thighs.

“Look forward, for me, baby,” you say, starting to spread the shampoo on his scalp.

He just hummed and groaned in the safety of your torso, while you scratched at his scalp and pulled the shampoo to his ends. He started to kiss and nibble at any skin he could get his mouth on. His grip was getting tighter and he felt a stutter in your breaths.

“Lean back so I can rinse this out.”

He placed his chin on your stomach again, eyes full of hearts.

“I’m almost finished, I just need to put your conditioner on.”

Miguel hummed once more as you placed the conditioner at his ends first, then scrunched his hair up, careful not to mess with his scalp. Mindful of his wavy, curly hair texture like he was for yours.

His wine eyes kept staring at you, as if you were the 8th wonder of the world. You felt heat in your face, an accumulation of the almost boiling water and Miguel’s full attention.

He was simply grinning, face wet and tinted from the water.

“You’re so cute,” you say, rinsing out the last of the product.

“Only with you,” he replies, still trying to make you look into his eyes. “Can you come closer?”

You set the shower head down and run your hands through his strands, “I feel like I’m already as close as it gets.”

“Not really,” he said, swiftly sitting you on his lap like you weighed nothing. “You could always be closer to me, cariño. I can think of many ways to make that happen.”

You finally allow yourself to indulge in his shenanigans. Leaning your forehead on his, you open your mouth to say, “Is that why you were so adamant about getting in the shower? To get as close to me as possible?”

He looked from your eyes to your mouth, “No?”

You bring your hands from his hair to his neck, “You know you can’t lie. In fact, you’re like, really bad at it.”

“Fine. It was partially because of that. How did you know?”

“Like I said, you can’t lie and neither can your face. You’ve been pouting ever since I let you scratch my head and especially when I wanted to wash my hair in the sink.”

“Am I that easy to read?”

“Kind of,” you say, a laugh twinkling off your lips. “I can always tell when you want me.”

“Yeah? And what am I telling you right now?” He starts to move your hips, placing his erection right under you, grinding your lips against him.

You close your eyes, a flame beginning to blossom within you, “I guess that you need, fuck, you need me.” Your clit was throbbing against his length as he dragged your body back and forth.

“I do, bebé, I do,” Miguel was moaning loudly, melting at the feeling of your pussy finally warming him up. He moved his lips to yours, desperately trying to have more of you, gripping your hips even harder.

“Baby, s-slow down,” you say in the midst of his kisses, trying to put your feet on the bench next to him to gain some sort of stability. You knew he was pent up, but he was moving so frantically, you were scared he might slip off.

“Te necesito. Please, just-” Miguel cut himself off with a groan in your neck, grinding your slit along himself faster. He started to kiss down your chest, finally getting to your breasts, and gliding his tongue along the wet skin. He took a nipple into his mouth, allowing himself to suck.

The flame from before was starting to grow, “Miggy if you keep going, I’m gonna cum.” He was just starting and you already felt everything coming to an end.

How were you so close, yet he was the one who was riled up?

“Miguel, I’m-” you hold on harder to his neck, eyebrows furrowed.

“Uh huh. C’mon, give it to me,” he encouraged, staring at you, eyes cloudy.

You break above him, a scream crawling from your throat, hips stuttering in his hold, and liquid leaking onto the floor.

“Oh my god,” your mind was hazy, reveling from how quick you came, but mostly at how needy Miguel looked.

“Was it good?” he asked, hugging your body as he switched angles, dragging his body closer to the edge of the bench, letting your feet fall to the floor. His voice was whiny, desperate, wanton. “Was I good for you? Did you feel good?”

You brought your mouth to his temple, movements shaky and heart still thumping, “You were so good for me, baby. So good.”

He sighed, breath leaving his lungs as if what you told him was a matter of life and death.

“Then use me,” he leaned back, hands pressed against the seat. “Use me, however you please.”

You stared at him, a little stunned but fully immersed. When you brought your hand to his chest, you could feel how fast his heart was moving. You brought your mouth to his once more, a thumb on his chin pushing so that lips could part. You kissed him deep, making sure to direct his focus there while you placed your knees on the bench.

Sitting just above him, you guided your sex to his, allowing his tip to barely kiss you. You wanted him, yearned for him inside of you, but not yet.

You slid his tip past your slit, only edging it in partially, then rubbed your pussy up and down the head, allowing yourself to open up.

Miguel moaned into your mouth, hands curling into fists as he felt your walls close around the top of him. He started to move in tiny thrusts matching your rhythm.

“Nuh uh, baby, it’s just me right now, remember?” You break your kiss to reprimand him, bringing your hand from his chin to his stomach, and stopping all movement.

Miguel could only cry out and nod, upset at the loss of your body devouring his own, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, keep going. I’ll be still, cariño, please.”

“Good. There he is, my sweet baby,” you say, voice a prime example at how much Miguel begging for you was affecting you.

You start back, ass moving with a bit more force. You lean to press a long kiss against his neck, losing yourself in the sound of him barely inside of you, his groans a lovely melody filling up the room.

“You feel amazing, Miguel. So big, and you’re only giving me so little,” you pant in his ear, knees starting to hurt from how hard the tiles were.

“It’s all for you. Just for you,” he gasped, twitching when the sounds of your juices got even louder at your constant movement. “Mi amor, please, can I hold you?”

“Always, baby.”

Internally you chuckled, you never told him he couldn’t touch you, you just followed his plea to use him like a toy. He was so pussy drunk, he forgot the parameters he set for himself.

He wrapped his biceps around you, your arms folding behind your back in the process, but that didn’t stop you from riding out the high that was another orgasm.

“That’s right, keep going. Úsame, take what you need,” he requested. He was itching to dive deeper into you, not wanting your pleasure to end.

You threw your head back and whined high with Miguel’s name on your tongue, gushing out your release for a second time.

“Fuck.” Miguel was still holding onto you, legs taut in their position. He swerved your pussy across his length, listening at how wet you were.

You laid your head on the tile above Miguel, relieved with its slight coolness and trying to slow down your rapid heartbeat. Your hips kept bucking as an aftereffect.

You didn’t get that much of a cool down before Miguel was at it again, finally sliding his dick in until he bottomed out.

The two of you let out long moans in unison, a harmony that wasn’t unfamiliar to your apartment.

In this position, your face was back in front if Miguel’s, eyes watery from the sensation of him filling you up.

“You’re perfect, you feel perfect,” Miguel cradled you, trying to get as comfortable as he could, despite the impossible position he put himself in.

Lifting his hips off of the bench, he held himself up by his back pressed against the tiles.

Before you could even ask him if you all should move to the floor, he knocked the wind out of you, holding you up as he slammed into you.

“Miguel!” you shout, clamoring for anything to grab onto after the impact had you knocking forward.

“I got you, I promise. Won’t let you fall,” he heaved out, words spilling out as fast as his hips were snapping.

All you could do was mutter out words incoherently, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass reverberating off of the walls. Your eyes finally let go of the tears they were holding, overwhelmed by your state of being.

“What’s that, mi amor?” Miguel cooed at you, licking off one of your tears and kissing your cheek. “Can you feel me? Is it too much?”

“I, ngh, I,” you could barely get your words out, your brain turning into mush after each thrust. Miguel kept going, humming as he spread kisses around your face.

“You gotta answer me, baby. I need to know,” he whispered.

“I’m trying,” you respond, voice cracking from overuse. You were still peeved at his composure. “I thought you said, oh my god, you said you didn’t want to hurt your back.”

Miguel just pursed his lips, eyes clearing up for just a second, “I didn’t. And I’m not going to, super-healing, remember?”

“That’s-” your sentence was cut off by Miguel hiking you up and smacking you back down in time with one of his thrusts.

“Shit! Do that again,” you sob, thoughts coming to a stop.

“Yeah?” Miguel tried his best to keep his eyes on you, but you were squeezing so tight around him that his eyes kept rolling.

“Yes, Miggy. Right there, that spot. It’s so,” you were drooling at this point. “It’s so much.”

Miguel kept it up, glad to be hearing those words, proud of himself for igniting you.

You held your head down, body wound tight, “I think I’m gonna cum. I’m close.”

“Again?” Miguel asked, heart fluttering at you falling apart on his dick.

“Yes, baby. Don’t stop,” you say, voice wavering.

Right as you felt your body beginning to let go, Miguel halted and sat back on the bench.

“No, no, no. Why did you-” You were cut off by Miguel grabbing you and placing you on your shoulders, pussy in his face.

He opened his mouth and pushed his tongue in where his cock once was swirling in and out, sucking at your folds. He starts to hum as if you've fed him his last meal, causing your orgasm to come in waves.

“Oh!” you shout, thighs quivering around his head, one hand gathering a fist of hair and the other pawing at the wall. Miguel was lapping everything up, holding you so that you couldn’t even think of falling.

“Ok, ok,” you say, mewling as he kept you in place while your hips shook. “S’too much.” He finally let’s go, placing you back in his lap.

“Did I do good?” he asks, chest rising and falling rapidly now that he catered to you. His face was a mess, evidence of you all down his neck.

You kissed his nose, giggling at his need for praise, “Yes, baby. You did amazing. Fantastic. Perfecto.”

He was practically vibrating with joy, kneading at your thighs.

“But Miggy, there’s still a problem,” you say, holding his face with both hands. “You still didn’t cum yet.”

You watched his face flit through several phases: ecstatic, worried, then hungry.

“Can I keep going?” he asks, hands starting to roam again.

You simply nod and try to prepare yourself for him moving you around again.

He sinks back in slowly, careful of your sensitive body. You try your best to move, hips working in circles, hands holding onto his thighs. You couldn't help but to squeeze onto him, despite how tired you were.

“You look so pretty,” Miguel mumbled.

“Bet I would look prettier if you finished. Inside.”

That fired him up even more. He started to help you to bounce up and down his length, teeth gritted. You held your head back, eyes scrunched at the feeling of him inside again.

Then he started to whimper, a telltale sign that he was close.

“Can you say it again, please?” he said, moving to stand with you in his arms.

“Say what?” you ask, exhausted yet in awe that he still had so much energy. “That I want you to cum inside? Fill me up?”

You could feel him twitch inside of you, mind hazy at the thought.

“Shockingly, no. My name. Porfa, mi vida. I need to hear it.” He was still holding you as he pounded away, eyes never leaving yours.

You’ve been saying his name the whole time, so surely that can’t be it. Then, it dawned on you.

“Let go, Mr. O’Hara,” you say, mouth right next to his.

And so he did. He bent over, hands gripping your sides as he snapped his hips frantically, groaning into your mouth as he kissed you hard. You could feel him seeping inside you, hot liquid filling you up.

You clutch at his shoulders, feeling your hold slipping from how wet his skin was from the shower and the heat. You cry out again, body sore from all of fun and sensitive from overstimulation.

Miguel finally let up for what felt like hours, standing up straight and pulling you off his dick. He hissed at the feeling, angling your body parallel to his so that everything could fall to the shower floor.

You lay your head on his shoulder tiredly, grateful that he was still carrying you.

“That’s going to mess up the drain. You should have just let it stay in me until it took,” you mumble into his shoulder, hearing his breath hitch at your words. “Or until I got to the toilet or something.”

He brought you both back to the bench, “You're on the pill so stop teasing me about that.”

“But that doesn’t mean that you can’t live out your breed-”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, mi amor,” he says, pecking your lips to stop you from continuing. “Now let's clean you up. Again.”

He reaches for the shower head and checks the temperature. Humming, he aims the spray at your lower area.

You jump and yelp, “That’s so fucking cold!”

“Bébe, it’s literally warm. I just checked!”

No wonder he was about to die in the steam, “You know how hot I like my showers, and that’s ice cold right now.”

“Well I’m sorry it’s not burning, but we have to clean you up,” he said, trying to console you. “I’ll warm you up later.”

You look at him and there’s this playful look on his face. “No,” you say, just the thought of doing this again making you sleepy.

You eye his body up and down. “Maybe later.”

He just chuckled and finished up.

An hour later, the two of you are dry, blow dried, and comfortably laid out across the couch with baking competition shows queued up on the TV.

You look up at Miguel from your position on his chest, cheesing from ear to ear.

He feels you staring at him and looks down, eyes warm. “What?” he asks, watching your face light up.

“Nothing. I just love you,” you say, unable to look away.

He kisses you, heart keeping a steady beat, “I love you too.”

I hope you enjoyed reading! 🩵🩵

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.

(And did anyone catch my Beyoncé Cécred refs?? I have no idea how brand names work with fics so I just stuck to nameless descriptions😭)

- Blue 🧼

[teambyler]

(Spoiler) Noah Schnapp is CLEARLY trying to avoid spoiling something MAJOR about Mike and Will here! (Breakdown with TIMESTAMPS)

Okay Tom Holland, Noah Schnapp lol.

I'm usually a very careful person, and so I mean it when I say that this video of Noah at a recent con is the biggest confirmation of Byler endgame we've ever gotten.

0:04: Noah's NERVOUSNESS combined with TRYING TO SUPPRESS GIDDY EXCITEMENT in the first 5 seconds. His literal first reaction to a question about how Mike and Will's relationship has evolved was "You guys can't get me in trouble! I don't wanna say anything! Spoiler..."

0:16: Mike and Will's relationship "had its ups and downs in the beginning..." In the beginning? It was never down in the beginning mah dude, not until Season 3. By "the beginning" he's contrasting everything before to NOW (Season 5)! Now, when things are FINE, and as Mike said they're "a team..."

0:24 "Mike was always super protective of Will and Will always leaned on him, and you could never really tell if it was something romantic or just a really special friendship" !!!!!!

0:33 "And as it goes on you kinda realize that Will does have... Am I allowed to say this?" Noah should know he can say Will likes Mike: Noah told the press 2 years ago that Will loves Mike. Either his mind is GLITCHING because he's afraid he'll spoil something, or he thinks that JUST TALKING about Mike and Will's history is a spoiler for some reason! =)

0:41 Cara: "Ummm.... I don't know!" She knows that "yes" would encourage him to say more and "no" would sound like they're hiding something. Noah: "I don't wanna talk about this!"

0:47 Throughout Cara's entire talk Noah is GRINNING and he's trying his best to hide it. Clearly just THINKING about Mike and Will makes this gay boy wanna giggle. It literally feels like HE is Will and someone's there talking about his relationship with his boyfriend who he can't stop thinking about.

0:58 Cara saves Noah but then beats around the bush and talks about friends growing together and apart. She says they diverge and "Mike goes on his journey" while Will remains "stuck." Then she says "...So I think in Season 5..." and Noah gives her a LOOK knowing that they have to be careful here. Then Cara talks about SOMETHING ELSE entirely, pretending she never started the sentence! She says it's "a friendship evolving" and that friends can grow apart and together, "and we'll see what happens"(!) What ELSE could this all mean but that they grow closer together after growing apart in season 3? And that Mike's "journey" was one of self-discovery? (From all the glimpses of s5 we're getting, Mike's clearly not "journeying" far from Will's side!)

1:39 Even though Noah should know better (lol), he chimes in AGAIN to say something about Mike and Will and dig another hole for Cara to dig them out of! Then he thinks better of it: "Actually I"m not gonna say anything."

In another clip from this talk, Noah says that in nearly every scene he's done on the show Finn/Mike has been there. The way he talks about it, it's clear he's reminiscing about his entire experience with the show including Season 5, where they're sharing all their scenes again. Mike and Will's relationship is important to Noah, who of course is gay.

In that same clip, Cara says it'll be easier to answer these questions when the show is over. Noah: "It's just so hard to talk about it. It's so secretive and we don't wanna get in trouble."

It's extremely clear that Noah and Cara do not want to give a MAJOR SPOILER ABOUT MIKE AND WILL.

In s5, Mike HAS to find out Will loves him because of the Painting Lie. If what results is that Mike rejects Will because he's straight, which the vast majority of the audience already assumes, would they be this secretive about it?

Of course not.

Plus, they're so careful to NOT DENY THE POSSIBILITY of Byler endgame either, which they can do EASILY. ("Will loves his straight best friend..." or "Mike's only interested in El...") That would've been a NON-STORY. They're going OUT OF THEIR WAY not to rule out Byler. AND they fully know that teasing the audience with it only for it NOT to happen would be queerbaiting.

Byler doubt? Never knew ya.

-teambyler

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Never Gonna Be Alone - Part Two

Summary: When a friend from college contacts you about renting out your empty, spare bedroom to her brother, you aren't really sure what to expect.

Pairing: Modern!Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Warnings for the entire series: language, drug & alcohol use, sex, possible angst, pining & yearning, miscommunication, bit of a slow burn, and a lot of fluff, plus me attempting to be a comedian.

Masterlist | Playlist

Originally, you had made a bet with yourself that your silly little crush on Aegon wouldn’t last more than a week– then it was two, and suddenly a month had passed. Your feelings, much to your chagrin, had remained persistent. 

It wasn’t for a lack of trying, either. 

You had done anything and everything you could to stop thinking about him– kept your distance by taking extra shifts at work, joined an improv club, read approximately eleven new books, and even learned how to crochet so that you had an excuse to stay in your room 24/7. Worst of all was downloading that stupid dating app, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and they don’t say that the fastest way to get over someone is by getting under someone else for nothing. 

The truth was a hard pill to swallow, however. No matter how many guys slid into your DMs and then ghosted after a couple of days of texting, no matter how many miniature cows you crocheted or books you read, you liked him. And not in the fleeting, passing kind of way that you’d originally expected. No, these feelings had taken a hold of you– rooting into you in the way that a stubborn weed roots into concrete. 

Anyways, back to that dating app… 

It had been a joke with yourself at first; a half-hearted swipe-fest with no real intent behind it. You weren’t actually looking for someone, more like waiting for someone to miraculously appear and make you forget about Aegon Targaryen. You were smart enough to know that Mr. Right wasn’t lurking on Hinge, but you figured there had to be someone out there who could temporarily distract you from his stupid, not-at-all beautiful smile, or the way he belly-laughed at your jokes that weren’t even funny.

The first guy to make it out of the 72-hour ‘Only-Talk-On-The-Hinge-App’ phase, and into the ‘We-Can-Start-Texting-And-Maybe-Plan-A-Date’ phase was a guy named Criston. Yes, you should have known by the name that it wasn’t going to work out, but he was dark and handsome– the complete opposite of the person you were actively trying to forget existed– and seemed interested enough in you to ask you out on a proper date. Sure, he was a bit boring via text, but you figured that not everyone can be as clever and witty as you, and you owed it to yourself not to write him off yet. 

Aegon was sitting on the couch playing video games when you walked down the hallway and into the living room. You had been listening to him chatter with his online friends for the past hour and a half as you got ready for your date; his voice carrying through the thin walls of your shared apartment, hurling profane insults at random children and laughing along with his friends at the crude jokes they’d tell each other (their mother’s would be ashamed). You didn’t look at him when you entered the room, but you could feel his attention immediately shift. 

He paused the game mid-action, pulling his headset loosely around his neck, and turned to look at you. The sudden silence of the room made you hyper-aware of his eyes on you as you made your way into the kitchen to grab your purse from the counter. When you finally turned back to the living room, you finally caught his stare. 

His mouth was slightly agape and he swallowed hard before saying, “Where you off to?”

Without waiting for you to answer, he turned back to his game, pulling his headset back up over one ear so that he could still hear your response. Your shoulders fell just slightly as he turned his back towards you as if he didn’t care to hear the answer at all, as if your sudden appearance hadn't just thrown him completely for a loop and rendered him nearly speechless. 

You straightened up and smoothed your dress and walked over to check yourself in the mirror one last time; delicately fixing a few fly away hairs and ensuring there wasn’t lipstick smeared on your teeth. “I am going on a date,” you told him with more confidence than you actually felt.

There was a brief pause and then he muttered, “A date, huh? Good luck with that.” 

You caught his eyes in the reflection of the mirror and turned to look at him, quirking an eyebrow at the sarcasm in his tone. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was jealous, but that would mean that he actually cared, and you didn’t want to get your hopes up more than they already were. Before you could think too much about it, Aegon quickly looked away, dismissing you as he immersed himself back into his game, seemingly ending the conversation. 

Not sure how to feel, you turned on your heels towards the front door without another word. You had half-hoped that you would have elicited more of a reaction from him by choosing this particular outfit, and couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed by the interaction; chalking it up to him just being a typical, clueless guy who probably didn’t even notice how much effort you had put into looking like that— because none of them ever did. 

“Hey!” Aegon called out just as you stepped into the foyer. You stopped in your tracks, leaning back against the doorframe and cocked your head to the side to see what it was he wanted. “You, uh– you look really nice,” he added, the words tumbling out awkwardly.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden compliment. 

"Uh, thanks," you replied bashfully, not knowing what else to say as you tried to ignore the warmth that bloomed in your cheeks.

The moment that you left your apartment you realized that this date was surely pointless, and that was made crystal clear from the second that this Criston guy had slid into the booth across from you more than fifteen minutes late. Despite the fact that he was the one to initiate the date, you were the one who chose the place and time; deciding on a comfortable hole-in-the-wall Italian joint that you enjoyed but didn’t get the chance to frequent often. They had a live jazz band that played on Friday evenings, which was perfect for a first date– intimate enough to set the mood with enough distractions to fill any conversational gaps. 

And unfortunately for you, there were plenty. 

Turns out that Criston was just as dull– if not more so– in person as he was over text. He only spoke when spoken to, answering your questions with stiff, one-word responses that made you feel like you were conducting a job interview rather than enjoying a nice dinner with someone that you were trying to get to know. You did what you could to steer the conversation toward more lighthearted and fun topics, like movies and music– the typical things two people would discuss on a first date– but every attempt was met with a flat, almost disinterested tone. 

By the time the entrees had arrived, you had resigned yourself to the fact that this was a dud, and in doing so, you found yourself retreating to the very thoughts you had set out to avoid– Aegon.

As hard as you tried to stay present, unlike your date, the comparison was unavoidable. Criston’s lackluster personality and quiet brooding left you too much space to think; to imagine Aegon’s laugh, the way he teased you without a filter, making even the most boring moments feel like they had spark. The jazz band was a saving grace– offering you an excuse to zone out during Criston’s long, awkward pauses. But even then, the music seemed to remind you of the nights you'd spent in your shared apartment, secretly listening to Aegon strum his guitar in the other room, filling the air with a familiarity that always made you feel… at home.

Halfway through dinner and long after the conversation had fully flatlined, your date decided that it was time to make his move. He pushed back his chair and stood up, and for a split-second you were expecting that he was going to ask you for a dance, but then he mumbled something about needing to go to the restroom and grabbed his phone and keys before leaving. 

At first, he was headed for the general direction of the restrooms, but quickly- and without hesitation- pivoted towards the entrance; practically jogging out the door, without so much as a glance back in your direction. Instead of feeling the least bit shocked or upset, you just sat there, fork hovering over your plate, staring at the door, thinking to yourself, “well, that tracks.”

Honestly, him leaving mid-meal was probably the best thing that could’ve happened. 

You were off the hook from having to finish this awkward, disaster of a date, and wouldn't have to pretend that you were interested in seeing each other again only to be ghosted later on. You didn’t even mind getting stuck with the bill, knowing that this was the universe doing you a solid, and that you no longer had to waste any more of your evening trying to make small-talk with a guy who clearly had the personality of a brick wall. 

Aegon was in his room when you got home, the soft strumming of his guitar coming to a halt the moment that the door clicked shut behind you. Silence replaced the gentle melody, and you could suddenly feel the weight of the evening's disappointment pressing down on your shoulders. Just as you slipped off your shoes and took a deep breath, Aegon appeared in the hallway, his hair slightly tousled, a hint of curiosity dancing in his eyes.��

“You took a to-go box?” He asked, following you into the kitchen. You sighed in response, not wanting to talk about it. “Inn’t that like the Cardinal Rule of datin’ that you shouldn’t take a box home on the first date?” 

“Considering that I had to pay for both my meal and his as he ghosted me in the middle of dinner, you best believe I brought my leftovers home,” your tone was laced with exhaustion and annoyance, not wanting to be interrogated or lectured. “Just mine though, not his, Alfredo?” 

You shoved the box into his hands and grabbed a wine glass out of the cupboard. 

“Here, let me,” he said softly, setting down the styrofoam box and taking the wine glass out of your hands. “There’s a freshly rolled joint on the livin’ room table, go, put your feet up. I’ll be right behind you.” 

You wanted to protest but Aegon silenced you with one look, gently nudging you towards the living room with his elbow. As you settled into the couch, you could hear him shuffling around the kitchen, the soft clinking of glasses and the low hum of the fridge opening. You stretched your legs, sinking deeper into the cushions, and let out a long, steady breath; shutting your eyes for a moment and allowing yourself to be comforted by the space– the safety of it. This was home. Not the walls or the furniture, but the feeling of it. Strange how it never felt like this until Aegon moved in, at least not that you could remember. And now, he belonged here just as much as you did, his presence somehow made the air feel warmer, more settled.

“Here you are, m’lady,” he said smiling, as he handed you a generous serving of Pinot.

“Mm, thank you,” you smiled as you took the glass and indulged yourself with a long sip. 

Aegon nudged your legs gently, signaling for you to move them, and you obliged with a soft sigh, letting him sit down beside you. As soon as he was settled, he pulled your legs back into his lap, his fingers absentmindedly tracing small circles on your calf. It was a small gesture– simple and unspoken– but it sent an explosion of warmth throughout your body, spreading from where his fingertips grazed your skin and settling deep in your chest. His touch was suddenly all that you could think about, and why is it so warm in here?

You weren’t used to this, not from him—this quiet, effortless closeness. You had never been this physically intimate before, and yet, it didn’t feel awkward or out of place. Instead, it felt... natural. Like some unspoken shift had occurred between you both, and this was just how it was now; the air instantaneously buzzing with a different type of energy. His touch was no longer just a fleeting moment as you moved around each other in the kitchen in the mornings as you fixed your breakfasts before work; it lingered, deliberate, almost soothing. Every soft stroke of his fingers made you acutely aware of how intimate this moment really was.

“So,” he said, turning slightly towards you, draping one arm across the back of the sofa– the other was still placed gingerly on your calf. “You met this guy where? Tinder, Hinge, Bumble, Fetish.com?” 

You gave him an immediate side-eye and he smirked. “We met on Hinge.” 

“Interestin’, I thought that one was the more superior app,” he shrugged and took a drink from his glass. “What happened?”

“Other than the fact that he had the personality of a wet napkin?” You sighed, leaning your head back against the cushion. “Honestly, Aegon, I should’ve seen it coming. He was a shit texter, but I kept telling myself maybe he’s just better in person. Nope! Still shit! Truth be told, the most interesting thing he did all night was ghosting me in the middle of dinner.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“That’s low, even for the sad state of modern dating,” he muttered as his soft smile was replaced with a frown. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m sure it was humiliating.”

You replied with a nod, taking another sip of wine. His fingers continued their gentle tracing along your calf and you felt another wave of warmth roll through you, but convinced yourself that it was just the wine. 

“I’m just... over it, you know?”

He only nodded in understanding, allowing a comfortable silence to settle in between the two of you. The sounds of the city drifted in through the open window; the faint murmur of traffic, the distant laughter of a passerby talking on their phone, a warm, late summer breeze stirring the curtains– it all just faded into the background as you became consumed by your thoughts. 

Aegon shifted slightly, his hand still resting on your leg as he set his glass down and reached for the joint on the table. With a flick of his lighter, he lit it and took a slow drag before passing it to you without a word. Your fingers brushed his as you took it from him, the contact lingering longer than it should have, and nearly sending you into cardiac arrest. You brought the joint to your lips, hoping that it would help you calm down before you did something to ruin the moment, and exhaled the smoke with a tiny cough. 

His eyes lingered on you as you took another hit before passing it back to him. You were desperate to know what he was thinking, but you were terrified that if you opened your mouth to ask, every pathetic thought you had about him would come spilling out. 

“Do me a favor, yeah? No more dating apps.” His voice cut through the haze, fingers tracing delicately along the outside of your ankle now. “Those twats online only want one thing and you deserve so much more n’that.”

“Oh, it’s already been deleted,” you grinned, sneaking a glance at him.

“Good,” he smiled and moved to get up off of the couch, you immediately mourned the loss of his touch. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my lovely roommate was nice enough to bring home her leftover Alfredo and I’ve got a serious case of the munchies.” 

You sighed, leaning back against the couch as the harsh reality sank in. 

This wasn’t just a silly little crush anymore– no, there was a reason why every attempt you made to push him away only resulted in him reeling you further in. It was sickening, really, once you realized it and how you suddenly wanted to scream it from every open window. The sensation made your stomach churn and simultaneously gave you butterflies, and goddamnit.

You were so in love with him.

Tag List: @primroseluna, @elllielewiss, @mrs-starkgaryen, @watercolorskyy, @st-eve-barnes, @seaheaded , @roxiphera

Let me know if you would like to be tagged (or un-tagged)

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

OMG I LOVED THE Tomorrow, I promise SO MUCH 😭🔥🙏🏻 have you considered of making part two? id be begging on my knees

I'm so glad you liked it!! Thanks for the request! (Also for the person who requested the Hawks version of this trope, it should be done soon! 💙)

Tomorrow, I promise

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Warnings: language; slight smut/suggestive; as always I have no beta reader and this was made in maybe under two hours because I wanted to get it to yall quickly <3

Find part one here!

"You ready to beg yet?"

In all honesty, your answer would've been yes.

The desire to give in was heinous, to throw away your pride for the tickle of heat budding below your abdomen and that wicked smile coming from the man above you.

Then you heard the knock on the door.

Practically falling off of the bed, your right knee hit the floor, pulling a curse from your mouth as the wood scraped against your skin. You scrambled to your feet, allowing yourself a deep breath for composition before turning the knob.

Magne and Compress met your line of sight, both looking upward as your door creaked open, the hinges rusted with age and lack of care.

"Good morning!" The redhead grinned, lowering her sunglasses to get a better view. "We figured it had been long enough for the quirk to wear off, so we wanted to check on how you were doing..."

Her voice trailed off, face scrunching in surprise. At first, you weren't actually sure why.

Until you felt the wave of heat gnawing at your back.

Eyes narrowed, Dabi had a hand placed on the left side of the door frame, leaning slightly and wearing an expression of pure annoyance.

Magne bit her lip. "Did you two-"

"No!" You sidestepped a few inches, heat blooming in your cheeks. "We definitely did not."

Dabi scoffed, muttering a quiet, "Yeah, thanks, assholes."

"Plus Shigaraki wants to see you two, talk about tomorrow's mission or something." Compress, seemingly able to ignore the less-than-kind comment, nodded to the stairway. "Unless, of course, we're interrupting anything."

Grabbing his free arm, you yanked Dabi in front of you, effectively pushing the group out of the room. "Nope, sounds good. See you soon, bye."

The hurried burst of words was followed by the slam of your door and a sigh. The sound of relief echoed through the space, now devoid of that warmth you kicked yourself for missing. Body resting on the wood, almost like a barricade to the world outside, you pushed yourself forward and towards the dresser.

Picking out a pair of jeans and a hoodie was easy.

Facing the rest of the League was not.

You tried to listen to your leader's explanation of what would be going down tomorrow, fidgeting under the cerulean gaze stemming from across the room.

For what seemed like hours, Shigaraki droned on and on about how pissed off he would be if you messed up again. It felt like a millennium before he waved you all off with a lazed flip of his hand.

Jumping up from your chair far too quickly, you sped-walked to the stairs, going at least two at a time in the direction of your room.

Unfortunately, you weren't fast enough.

Deft hands slid around your waist from behind, picking you off from the mismatched wood and tossing you over Dabi's shoulder.

"Put me down, asshole!" You yelled, ignoring the way his hand rested ever-so conveniently over your behind.

"Sorry, doll," he replied, ushering a soft squeeze to the area above your thigh. The sound he earned drew a wicked grin across his features as he opened the door to his own room. "But not happening."

Locking clicking into place, he marched forward and tossed you onto his bed.

That seemed to be happening far too often lately.

"Wanna know what else isn't gonna happen?" He was on you before you could sit up, hands placed on either side of your body and arms caging you in. "You aren't gonna sit there and pretend like you don't have a thing for me."

"Why the hell does it matter?" You scoffed. "You don't feel the same, so just let it go. Try your best not to be a prick for once."

The words pulled at your chest, but the silence was worse. Abundant and humid, it hung over the air like a toxic gas as Dabi stared at you.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"I-"

"Do you know how fucking hard it was to watch you sit there and bat those pretty, little eyes and go on and on about how much you liked me? How hard it was to say no when you, of all people, are practically begging for me to take you?"

"So, you just wanted to sleep with me."

Rolling his eyes, he smirked. "If I wanted a simple fuck from you, I would've done it yesterday when you were frothing at the mouth."

"I was not." You mumbled, face heating.

"Oh, come on, princess. You gotta admit how needy you are for me at some point." Dabi cradled your chin with his hand, pulling your face upward as he inched closer, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear and sending a chill down your spine. "Or else I can't show you how much I like you."

Tongue running across your neck, his free hand moved under your shirt, hesitating just enough to give you a chance to pull away. When you didn't, his fingers traveled beneath your bra, cupping your chest gently.

He pinched your nipple, earning a small moan. "So, let's hear it."

"Fuck," you cursed, back arching into the warmth of his touch. "Yeah, fine. I like you too, or whatever."

A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. "You can do better than that."

"You're an asshole."

"And you're an idiot." He pushed his lips against yours, tongue skimming the bottom, begging for entrance, a request that you happily indulged.

The heat of his touch coursed over your body, warm and inviting and absolutely nothing like the mask he wore. It felt safe, a pure contradiction to what the world saw. The idea that he was only like this with you made your chest feel light.

When he pulled back, taking that heat with him, it was like the air had been sucked from your lungs. Still, the way that he looked at you had a pleasant fervor running through your limbs.

"How the hell could I not like you?"

[gutterfuuck]

more bff mark please i beg of youuuuuyuy

bff!mark headcanons + extra — !

i haven’t done these yet + i think maybe i would like to give more context/background to bff mark? i am not sure haha. mdni, somno mentioned, stalking, yandere(? i am not too well versed on this), suggestive, lowk incel behaviour if u squint, lmk if u think i missed anything, this is kind of rushed!

i feel like he definitely has glasses… has to wear them, but doesn’t. he always either forgets or doesn’t want to, complains about them leaving red marks on his nose bridge when you ask why. starts wearing them a little more occasionally when you comment on them being cute, even if the frames were a little too thick. he settled on contact lenses when he started high school. i also think that people forget that mark is a NERD!! we have all seen how geeky he was when he went to comicon with amber.

gets nosebleeds quite frequently. they started to get worse when you dressed in less and less clothing during the hot summers, loses his marbles when you show up in a white shirt. at first, he would try to claim that all of the times he had thrown water onto you were accidents; starts telling you that he wants to have a water fight. it was summer after all and you both wouldn’t be in your 20s forever. you could still get away with being just a little bit irresponsible.

has a reddit that he retreats to whenever you get a new boyfriend. complains to his audience of literally two strangers about how he’d been in the friendzone for as long as he could remember, makes threats towards the men that you date on the internet using sock puppet accounts. uses those same accounts to target you, sends you pictures of your address and tells you things that only YOU could know. this seems to work in his favour more often than not; you’d call him in a panic and he’d be right there, patting your back and holding you as you sobbed about your creepy cyber stalker with the knowledge that it was himself. on the topic of that, he STALKS your socials. he has an album in his camera roll dedicated to candid pictures he has taken/found of you.

likes to watch you sleep. we all know this. he also likes to touch you in your sleep, likes the fact that you’re so trusting and would never suspect your best friend of doing such things to you. he gets off on the sort of power dynamic it puts you both in, likes the thrill of wether you’ll wake up or not and catch him in the act. he just wants to make sure you’re okay, he promises!

gets super clingy and whiny when you have other friends over or when you’re hanging around other people, hates it when he can hear you laughing at other peoples jokes.

“but we have plans today…!” he almost pouted at you when he had woken up to find you already dressed and finishing up your makeup in his little mirror. mark had panicked when he’d opened his eyes and couldn’t feel you anywhere next to him on the mattress. when you stayed over usually you’d be asleep until the afternoon, that was when mark would shake you conscious with a cup of coffee in his hand that he’d make for you. you only chuckled at him, keeping your hand steady as you drew the wings of your eyeliner. who were you getting all dolled for? why didn’t you get dolled up for him the same way?

“we have plans for later. i can’t bail again, i already didn’t go yesterday because i came to stay with you, they’re all gonna think i’m a no-show.” you said back, eyes flickering to the left and the right, trying to see if you had gotten your eyeliner even. “when you say it like that it makes it sound like you were forced to come over.” he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to disguise his jealousy with a lighthearted joke that didn’t feel like a joke to him. the vibes in the room seemed off, almost as if tension was building. you gave him a look, stomping over to where he laid in bed and placed your head right next to his, staring into his eyes.

“it’s only for a couple hours while i go shopping. plus, i need you to head over to my house, take the chicken out the freezer before we’re eating at burger-mart again.” you were so close. your face was only a few inches away from his, he could’ve kissed you. he wanted to. “you remember where the spare key is? right under the plant pot?” you questioned, moving away from him to observe yourself in the mirror. in his mind, you had gotten all dressed up and pretty for him and him only. “meet me back at mine for six-ish. do you want me to get you anything?” mark almost shot up out of his bed when you had said that. six?? ish??? that could mean you’d be out for later! “‘six-ish’?” he groaned, glancing at his twenty four hour clock. 11:35. you couldn’t possibly be shopping for the whole day, that definitely meant that you’d be out out.

mark knew where your spare house key was, and it wasn’t underneath the plant pot. it sat in his top drawer under a mess of his clothes. that wasn’t your spare key, it was his key. his own personal key, given to him by you. he hated when you went out of town but loved the fact that he’d have free reign over your room. “chicken out the freezer, six pm sharp-“ he started, moving the cover off of his body before you shook your head, correcting him, “six-ish. i’m not sure when i’ll be back.” you smiled, mark wanted to throw up. he couldn’t believe that it had gotten to the point where he wanted to physically be sick when you told him you wanted to hang out with others.

he’s extremely overprotective of you. almost always by your side, people have started to think that you’re dating him. mark gets so happy he feels like he might pop when you’re walking through the mall together and someone trying to sell something addresses you as “the lovely couple”. he relishes in little moments like that, cutting the part where you would tell the person that you were just friends completely out of his brain.

he’s made you break up with a few of your boyfriends. or rather, he’s made them break up with you. aside from terrorising your partners (past and present) through the internet, as soon as he had gotten his powers he had started terrorising them in real life, too. you just thought that all of the guys you dated had a serious case of leaving your dates and finding their cars crushed like a soda can, their houses being ransacked and near enough destroyed when they decided that it was time to have a second date, regardless of the car.

mark loves it when it’s just you and him, no room left for other people. he loves it when you’re alone, his head in your lap, your nails stroking along his scalp as you both kept your eyes on the screen, mark’s mind distant from whatever you were watching as he bathes in the soft pets you gave him. he’d keep anyone away from you if it meant that it’d just be you and him together forever.

he’s not stupid, he knows that your friends don’t like him. he had supersonic hearing for fucks sake, he caught what one of your friends had said about him when he had walked away from the table you were sitting at to put his stuff away in his dorm room. “he’s so… weird.” “are you really okay with him touching you like that?” “he’s dick repellent.” and mark would grit his teeth behind the wall he walked by with his fists clenched. he wanted to tear them all in half. “if you have a problem with him, then i have a problem with you guys.” you’d respond jokingly, though had all intentions of cutting them off if they were to double down. he’d blush, holding his face in his hands, suddenly absolved of all of the anger he held.

debbie refers to you as his girlfriend when it’s just him and her, giggling at his sudden nervousness. he wished you were his girlfriend, dreamt of the day he could roll over in the mornings and kiss you awake, holding you close to his chest… instead of rolling over to your sleeping form, debating wether he had enough time to touch you before you’d wake up slowly, eyelashes fluttering awake.

mark loved your room, it smelled just like you. it felt just like you, felt as if he was breathing you in and looking right into your soul. entering your home and walking up the stairs straight towards your bedroom, he’d flop down face first onto your bed, inhaling deeply before checking the time on his phone. 5:25. you’d be home soon, hopefully. he’d completely forgotten your instructions, he was supposed to have left his house to take the chicken out of the freezer as soon as you had gone in the early afternoon. he’d stayed home to go through the dirty laundry, looking for the pair of panties you had taken off the night before so he could stand with the shower running, your underwear wrapped around his dick as he jerked off with them, mumbling to himself about the things that he would do to you if only given the chance…

“mark?” you called, leaving your shopping bags in the hall while you closed the door, locking it behind you. you went to check the kitchen, looking for the familiar shape of the chicken on the side, rolling your eyes when you realised that it wasn’t there. maybe he wasn’t even here! you didn’t mind too much, he had probably forgotten. you’d almost jump out of your skin when you entered your room, not expecting your friend to be on your bed, laying on his stomach, eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar as he snored ever so quietly. he looked cute, hand folded under one of your pillows with his hair all messy, his eyebrows furrowing occasionally in his sleep. your hand hovered over his head, stroking his hair back, “maaarkusss…” you’d say in a sing-song voice, grinning when he looked up at you. mark sat up, the side of his face a little wet from drool, your pillow had a wet patch from where he’d slept.

“you can sleep on that pillow tonight, then.” you laughed, pointing to where he had salivated on your pillow. mark grumbled something about you getting makeup patches all over his pillows and he still slept on them, yawning and stretching before he looked over to his phone, tapping the screen to look at the time. 8:47. 8:47..!? he looked over to your window, noticing that the sky had started to dim. he then jumped up, panic settling in, “i- the chicken, freezer- i’m so sorry- how long did you let me sleep for?” he stuttered, walking towards your bedroom door to head downstairs, “it’s okay, we’ll just get takeout again. my parents left some cash for looking after the place while they’re away.” you sat at your mirror, mark breathing a sigh of relief as he sat back on your bed, watching you wipe off your makeup, “also, i’ve just gotten back. i’m sorry i was late, you must’ve gotten tired waiting on me, huh?” you rubbed your face with the makeup wipes, messily piling them up on your desk as you used them, you’d throw them away after you were done.

mark almost snaps right there, you said six-ish. it was almost nine. he felt betrayed in a way, like you had lied to him. he had to recuperate for a second, remembering that you had a life of your own, you were your own person. but it wasn’t fair. he wanted nothing more than for you to be yourself, but he wanted you for his own. this was so painful. “what happened to six..ish..?” he asked, tilting his head at you. you looked at him from your mirror, eyes meeting with his, “funny story, actually. can you believe that i had to walk back here, all the way from the mall? nobody had a ride! the cars were full..!” oh. so that’s why you wanted your makeup off as soon as possible, you had near enough sweated it all off walking back. you smelled good, natural. he wished you had worn a tighter shirt today, he would’ve gone crazy seeing the wet patches below your boobs from your sweat. he had expected you to tell him that you had gone to one of your friends houses. this was a pleasant surprise.

“you should’ve called me- we could’ve flown back. we haven’t done that in a while, i miss it.” he missed the way you clung onto him, face buried in the crook of his neck with your legs wrapped around his waist. “i didn’t want to bother you. you could’ve been out doing hero shit.” you responded, standing up from your desk and opening your drawer, pulling out your pajamas. a spaghetti strap tank top and a pair of matching shorts. “you could never bother me.” he mumbled, eyes fixed on you as you walked out of your room to the bathroom to get changed. “that’s really soppy, grayson!” you called from the other room, his face red when he realised that you had heard him.

he gives into “peer pressure” a lot. and by peer pressure i mean that he sees you doing something and wants to partake. you smoked a little pot in college? mark wanted to try. you wanted to do endless shots at a party? mark would be stumbling back to your dorm room with you. he wanted to be cool for you, even if that meant making himself look like a lightweight.

i will be adding more to this, this was just something small until i can get my head together and finally rewrite my longer fics!! for those of you who followed for my grayson&grayson fic, you can unfollow if you like! nothing against you, you are welcome back when i do rewrite and release it!

[alyimoss]

horrortale king papyrus "ending", aka what happens if horror joins nightmare

i was thinking of making this into a fic or smthn but idk when ill get to that so. nevermind that im just gonna make a post. lotta yapping ahead. (word count: 1972)

so, i see a lot of people, when including horror in nightmares pantheon, say that he was either a) abducted against his will, or b) coerced by food, both for himself and his world. and i dont have much against the first interpretation, but the second… something's bothered me about it for a while, and its the simple fact that canon horror isnt that selfless. if nightmare were to offer him a deal, he would first and foremost be thinking about his own interests (he has already proven to be this kind of person in the comics).

so i instead think that were nm to offer him a deal, horror would only agree to a specific multi-part deal. and the first part? undyne's death.

we already know the whole "eating humans" thing was moreso to spite undyne and foil whatever plans she has than to help the residents of snowdin, shown by the fact that sans himself doesnt eat humans and that he urges everyone to keep this a secret from undyne and the rest of the underground. if a mysterious, powerful entity suddenly appeared and asked horror for his servitude in exchange for something he wants, a "mutually beneficial deal", i guarantee you that first and foremost he would think of undyne. of the traitor who sacrificed him "for the greater good".

and he would get that. i dont know if he would prefer to kill her himself or let nightmare to the dirty work, but either way, its not a hard thing for someone as powerful as him to do. only after his final act of revenge is certified does he think about everything else. with undyne gone, the underground would be left without a ruler, and things would likely get even more chaotic than usual. plus, they would still be left without food and without power.

i think hed ask for their CORE to be repaired or something else to be done about the power and magic situation going on in the underground first, but. i see this as something out of nightmare's range. hes not exactly a mechanic, and he doesnt want to waste time and energy getting someone who is just for another underling. so horror compromises on just food. regular deliveries of enough to feed all the monsters left in the underground. and this is a bit tedious, but still doable, and nightmare would likely agree.

but theres still one more part to the deal, and that is an opportunity to set a plan in motion.

with undyne out of the picture, someone would need to take control. and sans has the perfect idea of who.

the monster who has kept snowdin fed for years; who reported to undyne and mediated when her temper flared up; who kept up the puzzles and security around snowdin; who tried to keep the others' spirits up even when times were darkest…

thats right. he wants papyrus in charge.

i often see ht papyrus being portrayed in fandom as kind of a dope. someone innocent despite his creepy appearance and still rather incompetent. and this frustrates me because hes anything but. hunger, death, murder… all have taken their toll on him, and hes certainly not fine or completely sane. but id say hes arguably the sanest out of all the monsters weve seen in the comic so far (other than flowey and mettaton, i suppose… though mettaton is uncertain since weve only seen him in the past). hes also shown handling a lot of responsibilities, like the previously-mentioned providing of food and mediating when undyne goes too far. this applies to his brother, too, who was also known for having a temper. horrortale papyrus is still pretty cheery, but hes less idealistic, more responsible…

anyway, all that to say that 1) horrortale papyrus is horribly underrated and idk why because i love him dearly, and 2) between the reasons above and the fact that he's his brother, i think sans would consider him a perfect next-in-line. plus, all this power and respect and recognition… werent these all things he yearned for?

so before he leaves with nightmare, he does a little manipulating of the playing field. i dont know what this would be, honestly. talking papyrus up to others? making sure other monsters are aware of his capability and his kindness and his resolve? i dont know. but he does it. and after hes gone and undynes death is discovered, papyrus is chosen as the next king.

and you know what? i dont think he would want that.

because hes already gotten a taste of his "respect and recognition" via being an important figure in snowdin, and its been nothing but hell the whole time. hes exhausted. hes not one to be lazy or give up, but even a guy like him has his limits, and frankly hes probably reached them a long time ago. but the people desperately need a leader… and he cant exactly deny them. reluctantly, he agrees.

maybe a week into his rule, a miracle happens. food appears.

no-one knows where its from, but no-one can really care. "dont look a gift horse in the mouth" or whatever. the royal guard has to tear ravenous monsters away from the food in an attempt to save some to be rationed out. some guards undoubtedly succumb to the temptation themselves. but a good amount is saved and rationed. and the people look to papyrus with a new kind of reverence.

because how is it possible? under undynes rule, everything went to shit, and despite the years of promises, nothing was ever fixed. but as soon as papyrus take control, they get food, a good, livable amount of food, for the first time in years. theres hushed whispers that there must be a higher power involved. some seem to view papyrus himself as that higher power. the support for him grows from acceptance to wild endorsement. parents able to save their children thanks to the food cry and promise him unyielding loyalty. monsters who had all but accepted their deaths and met with a miracle instead fall at his feet. some compliments are backhanded: "i thought you would just be a useless stand-in, but youve actually saved us!!"

and papyrus smiles tightly at them all as panic mounts inside him. what will happen once this food runs out? will more appear? what if it doesnt?

but it does. it appears consistently, on a schedule. the people rejoice every time. but papyrus still finds himself fearing every day. barely able to rest amidst his panic. being king is a lot of responsibility, and he finds himself constantly overworking, so, so tired… but hes still putting on a smile for the public and assuring them that everything is okay.

with a consistent source of food, hes able to focus on other problems, such as getting monsters treatment for the effects of this hell that theyve been living in for so long and restoring the core. he's constantly meeting with different monsters, doing paperwork, handling this matter and that…

hes not alone. toriel would help him, i think. she knows what being a ruler is like, after all, and he is her good friend. but i dont know if other monsters, who rejected her as their queen, would be thrilled to have her even as an advisor. if mettaton is still sane, perhaps he would help, too, in whatever ways that he can. but papyrus still feels this… absense.

because his brother isnt there.

he never told anyone where he was going or what was happening. the most papyrus knows is that hes sure this all has to do with him somehow. but nothing else. not how, not to what extent. not whether hes even alive.

and for this one reason i think he would be so much more tired, so much more miserable. hes lost his only family, his support. the brothers' relationship in horrortale is pretty clearly strained, but theyre still shown to be close because, well, theyre family. theyve always been close. always helped each other. they were always there when the other needed to get something off his chest or get help. they kept a lot of secrets even from each other, yes, but im willing to bet that number's a whole lot less than the number they keep from others. what im getting at is that sans and papyrus are extremely important parts of each others lives, and one losing the other is a huge and unbearable change.

…and yet, with growing pangs of horror (ha) and guilt, papyrus finds that he doesnt know if its really much different now.

hes lost his biggest support, the one person he could tell almost anything to. but really he lost him years ago. for a long time, hes kept more secrets, done more work, put up with so much not to agitate his brother… even through his love, i think there was a mounting resentment and aversion to him… and he finds that with sans gone, he really gets about the same amount done. maybe more, actually, now with food and with toriel's help. and its a horrifying realization to him because thats not how he wants to think of his brother!

he did his best. he did help them, even if it was through backhanded and frankly horrible methods. his personality was a result of the hunger and that wound. if he was here, hed likely be more like his old self now that food is finally available. his brother isnt a bad person. he cant be, because papyrus cant handle that thought. but that resentment is unresolved. he feels abandoned. he doesnt know what emotion to feel. he prefers to just not think about it after a certain while.

and its the same with undyne. he misses her, he misses his friend. but she's been gone for years, too. when he thinks of her, he cant help but feel fear and anger. and thats not what he wants, either. he doesnt think of her, either.

and so hes left to rule in misery. roaming the unnaturally empty underground with the entirety of monsterkind praising his empty step. he has help, he has friends, but he still tries to handle everything himself. hes so tired that he doesnt even lie down because he doesnt know if he'll be able to get up. hes so stressed. even though they now have food, he barely eats. his eyesockets seem to sink somehow deeper into his skull. for the leader of a people finally recovering from devastation, he looks like hes only getting worse, and really he is. every day drains him more and more, and though he pushes himself to persevere for the sake of the people, he doesnt know how long he can go on.

doing what he thought was best, sans doomed his brother. if he ever goes back to his au to visit or something, he would see that first-hand. i think he'd struggle to accept it. would just run away. try to convince himself that he did what was right even as the guilt burns at his ribs.

this deal turns out more beneficial for nightmare than horror. nightmare gets a servant and a new source of negativity through ht papyrus (and though it would also spread a lot of positivity, i think its so little when compared to the whole mutliverse that nm finds it an acceptable trade and that some "positive" feelings, like the kind of god-like reverence some monsters in horrortale have for papyrus, are actually quite negative and feed him still), and horror gets to better his underground by sacrificing the only monster he probably bothered to care about: papyrus.

anyway. horrortale king papyrus. thats it thats all im gonna say goodnight

[guardkeywolf]

Don't mind me requesting again cuz your writing is good-

Anyway I need some older male reader that is team GHOST from call of duty ghosts and his team is fucking chaotic like they be almost killing them self's and one of them do stabby another like blowing shit up while male reader don't get enough sleep and be a dad on his team but in the end they get the job done

I just want 141 to meet male readers team during a mission and all of them see his team jumping out a window lol

I just need some chaotic shit

Ghost Soldier!Male Reader + Task Force 141

WARNING: INCREDIBLY CRINGE WRITING

While Captain Y/n is on a mission with his team, they are interrupted...

What matters most though is if they are friend or foe...

Honestly, trying to put a whole scenario like this together was fun and challenging at the same time but worth it @gamersansblog !!!

So I hope you enjoy!

°

°

°

"Midnight, Hawk, do either of you have eyes on the target yet?" Y/n asked as he let his eyes sweep over the contents in the room. Falcon followed behind him, silently with his gun raised, clearing the room himself before rejoining Y/n's side.

"No sir, not yet," Midnight's heavy feminine voice replied through the radio.

"Just a whole bunch of shit in here, Captain, unless..." Hawk drawed out slowly.

Y/n knew that tone and quickly tried to intervene, "Hawk, I swear if do what I think..."

"Calm down, sir. Why don't we just turn this place inside out?"

"Hawk..." Falcon warned from beside Y/n as he watched his Captain let out a long sigh in front of him.

"Just a little demolition, sir. That's all... it's not like anyone knows we're here anyway. With the guards dead, I doubt we'll be interrupted, " Y/n could have swore he aged faster as he listened to Hawk's suggestion.

Honestly, Y/n was too tired for this shit. It felt like he was baby sitting 3 kids and he couldn't help but wonder if other groups dealt with the same thing.

There mission was simple, take out the guards, retrieve the files, and get out. Really simple shit. Y/n could do it in his sleep if he wanted too. But noooo, the Higher Ups just had to say his team needed to be with him for this operation.

Plus, Y/n doubted that Falcon could deal with all of them if Y/n left him alone with Midnight and Hawk. So he was forced to bring his crazy pyromaniac of a man, the little assassin that would kill just about anything even when Y/n told her not to, and his only good child.

God, being a father of a Ghost Team was hard.

But even so, Y/n wouldn't change it for the world. His team was just about the best thing that ever happened to him and his career. They were his second chance, his redemption. His everything...

"Alright, Hawk, set up those explosives and see if you can find anything. Midnight, watch his back. Falcon and I are gonna make our way over there..." Y/n commanded.

"Understood, sir," and in the background, he could hear Hawk's sinister little giggle and shook his head at his soldier's antics.

"You sure this is the best idea, sir?" Falcon looked worried about this and Y/n didn't blame him for it. They both knew Hawk could go too far when it came to blowing up things.

Last time they left him alone, half of a building managed to disappear.

Y/n shook his head at the thought, not wanting to even remember that mission again.

When he caught sight of Midnight, the woman was throwing her knives at some random crate she was using as target practice.

"Midnight, Y/n told you to stop doing that. You're gonna mess up your knives and then cry about needing to get new ones," Falcon stressed.

Midnight stuck her tongue out at the man and Y/n chuckled.

"Come on Captain tell her!" Falcon pleaded.

Y/n ignored it and looked towards Hawk.

"You ready Hawk?"

"Annnnnd FINISHED!" the man exclaimed happily as he put the last finishing touches on the bomb.

"Good... get ready to...the hell is that sound?" Y/n turned to see a drone watching them outside the window.

"Shit... someone else is here... we're leaving NOW!" Y/n yelled as he made his way to the windows with their repel gear.

"WHO THE HELL ARE THEY?!" Midnight bellowed next to him.

"Doesn't matter! Hawk on my signal you blow this place to hell!"

"What about the files?!" Hawk asked.

"The Captain and I got them on our way to you two! Now hurry your ass up and get ready to repel!" Falcon hollered at him, quickly putting his gear on.

Once they were ready, Y/n didn't take the chance of the enemy spotting them from the window. If anything, these guys were definitely professionals and had yet to show themselves but it didn't bother Y/n one bit. He knew his team was just as good.

So, he turned to the other window, pulling out his P226 and aiming it at the window.

"Hawk, you remember that scene from Fast and Furious where they jumped from building to building?" Y/n asked.

"Yeah, but we don't have a supercar, sir!"

"Well we can try!" Y/n began to run towards the window, shooting it multiple times until to burst into glass shards and they all jumped out.

"NOW HAWK!"

Y/n heard that lovely sound of the explosion going off behind him as they landed on the roof.

"Hell yeah!" Hawk whooped from beside him.

"We can celebrate later...we still need to find who else is here."

Y/n turned to Midnight first.

"I got an idea..."

"Sir?" She tilted her head in curiosity.

"You see anyone even hostile take them out. Hawk fill this place with traps, take Falcon with you."

Hawk nodded and tapped Falcon's arm before leading them away from Y/n and Midnight.

"Alright, let's go see who the hell were dealing with..."

Midnight sent Y/n a smirk as Y/n moved to take point and as they set out to find the intruders.

It didn't take long when they both heard a cry that only Hawk could make and quickly ran towards his yells. Y/n told Midnight to hide the in the grass, dropping into the dirt himself and aiming his rifle at the newfound men that had Hawk and Falcon in their custody.

He heard the gruff British man's voice question who Hawk was working with, who their team was, but Hawk wasn't one to talk.

Y/n made sure personally that they would never talk. He put then through the same exact situation he had been in now. Cornered by the enemy but except this time not alone.

"Midnight, stay down unless shots are fired. Got it?"

She nodded at him before popping up out of the grass.

"I wouldn't move it I were you..."

The men all turned back to him, guns drawn on him while he held his Honey Badger tightly to his chest.

"Who the hell are you?" The man in the skull mask questioned.

Y/n gave him a look before turning back to the man with the fisher hat on.

"You plan on fishing for my soldiers..." he drawed off.

"Captain Price." He answered.

"Ah...I've heard of you... You and your little Task Force. What was it...141, right?"

"Ye now who the hell are you?" He watched the man's grip tighten on his own gun.

"Captain Y/n and you're going to give me back Hawk and Falcon now." Y/n demanded.

"How do I-" he was cut off by another voice going through his radio.

"Yeah but-... Are you sure, Laswell?"

Y/n looked up when he heard Kate's last name leave the older Brits lips.

"You familiar with Laswell?" Y/n asked as he watched the men untie Hawk and Falcon.

"Seems so...and it seems she knows you as well..." Price commented as he watched Hawk and Falcon walk back to Y/n's side.

"Sir, are you sure Laswell said they're green?" The dark skin man asked the Captian.

"I doubt Laswell would lie to us Gaz. That goes for you two as well," Price said, turning to the skull masked man and the slightly shorter man standing next to him.

"So that's a infamous Ghost...I thought he be taller," Hawk.

"He lots pretty damn tall to me, considering he's standing near shortstack over there..." Falcon said.

The shorter man sent him a glare, obviously hearing Falcon's comment, but before he could say anything, Ghost pulled him back.

"He's not worth it, Soap."

Y/n heard a Scottish accent come from the man as he watched the two talk.

"Oh, sir... You should probably tell-" Falcon was too late to warn him when Midnight sprang up from behind Ghost and Soap.

Y/n sent her the scariest death glare in history before the woman's knife even made it near the two men. Only then did Ghost realize Y/n was glaring but not at him and turned around only to see nothing there. When he turned back, there was now a third soldier standing near him that wasn't there.

"Who she?" He cocked his head towards her.

"Midnight." and he left it there.

Price turned to look at them apologetically before letting out a long sigh.

"Sorry about the mishaps, mates. Seems we got you mixed up with someone else, by the way... you know who blew up that building?"

"We did," Y/n said quickly, watching the man's face change to confusion.

"Why did you-"

"Sorry, but we're kinda on a tight schedule so we'll see yall again sometime soon yeah? Nice meeting you, Captain and your team. Lovely bunch, really! Sir, we have go to go." Falcon said as he pulled Y/n away, the man shaking his own head and chuckling himself, with the other two laughing.

"Kids am I right?" Y/n shouted as he sent a quick nod to the Captain before turning to greet his own team as they made their way towards exfil.

°

°

°

Please feel free to REBLOG with the TAGS if you enjoyed reading this!

Using tags makes it easier to navigate yalls blogs!

Thank you again for reading!

-Guards

[mysteryshoptls]

R Cater Diamond - P.E. Uniform Vignette

"You traitor!"

[Sports Field]

[tup, tup, tup]

Cater: Maaan, this is the worst～ Why'd we gotta run 10 laps around the campus?

Trey: Well, we don't really have a choice, do we? It's P.E. class.

Trey: Besides, we're already halfway done. Come on, Cater. Let's go, just 5 more laps.

Cater: You say already halfway, I say only! This sucks, it's no fun at all, and I smell terrible… It's nothing but the pits!

Trey: Okay, then I'm heading on ahead.

Cater: Nooo! Weren't we gonna run together all the way to the goal?

Trey: It's not like number of laps will decrease just by complaining about it, right? So I just want to get it over with as quick as possible. See ya!

Cater: Trey-kun, you traitor～～～!!

[tup, tup, tup]

Cater: He seriously left me behind. I bet he's the type to try to finish all his homework on the first day of the holidays, too.

Cater: I'm only 18 once, y'know. I wanna just whiz by all the lame stuff without dealing with 'em.

Cater: How can I… Oh yeah! I can totally do that thing. Now, that's great idea that only I can pull off!

Cater: I only have 5 laps left… So that basically means I just need to cross the finish line 5 more times.

Cater: Sooo～

Cater: If I use my unique magic to create a buncha copies, it'll be easy peasy lemon squeezy!

Cater: Doesn't look like Vargas-sensei's paying any attention right now, either. Okay then, here we go!

Cater: I am him and he is another.

Cater: Split Card!

[poof! poof! poof! poof!]

CaterB: Hey, me, great idea ♪

CaterC: Wonderful plan, me ♪

CaterD: You're so smart, me ♪

CaterE: Hey, me, good job ♪

Cater: Thanks, everyone. So now, I'm gonna ask you all to each jog a single lap!

Cater: What'll that mean for us? Basically, we'll be able to finish running the 5 laps around the campus grounds lickety-split!

CaterB: Got it! Then, I'll go first!

Caters: See ya～♪

[tup, tup, tup]

Cater: Good luck, me number one～ First one's at the goal! Now there's 4 left.

CaterC: Time for number two to head out!

[tup, tup, tup]

Cater: Good, it's going great. Even if it's hard for one person to run 5 laps, running them with 5 people is cake.

Cater: Alright, let's keep this up and knock the last three laps out!

CaterD/CaterE: Yeah!

Cater: That's the fourth me at the goal! Now it's just up to the real me to do the last lap. Here I g…

Riddle: You seem to be in a good mood, Cater. I thought you hated P.E.?

Cater: !! …Riddle-kun!? We're in different grades, why are you here on the sports field?

Riddle: Class 2-E has flight classes today. I was watching you from the sky.

Cater: Is that right… I woulda loved to get a snap of you flyin' the heck out of those brooms and throw it up on Magicam～ ...Haha…

Riddle: I'm not here to talk about me. I'm more curious to ask why I saw five of you on the campus grounds?

Cater: Urk!! Uh, you know, that's just… an optical illusion. You were just flying so fast that you must've been seeing things.

Riddle: …Really, now?

Cater: You're really amazing when you're zooming around. Plus, you just look cute overall, so you're like a butterfly!

Trey: Give it up, Cater. There's no way you'll be able to pull one over on Riddle.

Cater: Urk, Trey-kun…!

Riddle: Using your unique magic during class is against the school rules. I would have never expected to see a Heartslabyul student to do such a thing.

Riddle: I shall be reporting this to Vargas-sensei.

Cater: Wait, anything but that…!

Riddle: You're very fortunate, Cater.

Riddle: If it had been one of our dorm rules you had broken, it would have been off with your head without hesitation.

Cater: [huff… gasp… wheeze…]

Cater: Goal! I can't believe I had to run all ten laps all over again as punishment for trying to skirt it. That was way overboard!!

Trey: Here's a towel. Well done, you did it. Although, it kinda was all your fault in the first place.

Cater: Ah, you traitor! Aren't we supposed to be buds!?

Trey: That's why I did what I did. If you lied to Riddle, you would've been in worse trouble later on.

Trey: Besides, I'm the Vice Housewarden. That makes me the Housewarden's strongest ally.

Cater: See, you totally betrayed me… Ugh, I'm gonna transfer dorms!!

Requested by @farfalla049.

[zerobaselove]

taking care of zb1 ♡

pairing: idol! zb1 x reader

genre: fluff

warning: none! lowercase intended, not proofread

notes: this idea was so so cute so when i got the request i knew it had to get done :D its a little all over the place but still!

members under the cut!

jiwoong ;

leaving a cup of water on his side table and leaving a kiss on his forehead, you look at your boyfriend who has become bedbound with a cold, "anything else i can help with?" you considered yourself pretty brave to be asking that, knowing how much jiwoong liked having you wrapped around his finger and getting taken care of.

"c'mere." he patted the area next to himself on the edge of the bed, and you hesitantly sat down, curious of the next words to leave his mouth. "entertain me!" he smiled shamelessly, and you couldn't even blame that on him being sick. "jiwoong," you sighed, readjusting to face him better, "if you want to kick this cold, you need to rest. you don't need to be chatting with me."

he huffed, "what if i want to just stay here with you forever." the thought behind it was cute, it made you blush, and you couldn't help but cave a little bit. "okay," another playful sigh escaped your lips, "how about i tell you about my day and you try and sleep, and then we both get what we want." judging by the reaction on his face, he seemed quite content with your answer, almost too content. "jiwoong, you have to promise you'll try and rest."

crossing his fingers right in front of you, he held back a laugh, "i promise." getting a hit on his arm from you in return. "hey!" he joked, letting out a cough, "you can't hit me, i'm sick!"

zhang hao ;

"how did you know i was sick?" hao questioned when you showed up at the dorm. "zhang hao, you nearly coughed up a lung on the phone with me earlier," you shook your head, coming to sit beside him on the bed, "plus, yujin texted me and said he was worried you were gonna pop your eyes out with how much you were sneezing," a laugh escaped your lips, "i didn't know how to tell him that wasn't gonna happen."

now it was hao's turn to shake his head, "well you guys have nothing to worry about, i'll get over it." he paused for a moment as another sneeze ripped it's way through his chest, followed by a series of coughs. "i'm locked away in here to not get anyone else sick, so you shouldn't be here either." what he didn't know was you had a couple tricks up your sleeve, namely dayquil and lots of water. "you're always making sure i'm okay, so now it's my turn to take care of you."

"what if i get you sick?" hao let his worries push past his lips, and it was cute that he cared about you enough. "then you will just get to take care of me, and we will be even." you beamed, causing him to smile at your positive outlook on what most would consider an annoying situation. "you really don't have to," he trailed off, his voice getting quiet as he tried to suppress another cough.

"nonsense!" you smiled, pulling the dayquil out of your bag and setting a couple in his hand, "i want to, now i'm going to get you some water so don't go anywhere." he couldn't help but enjoy this side of you, it was cute, "i'll be here"

hanbin ;

"he just won't sit down, we thought you could get through to him better." matthew and jiwoong smiled at you, a look of worry for their friend, and your boyfriend, hanbin plastered across their faces. you made your way to hanbin's room, entering the room to see him wincing as he tried to put his shoes on. "where do you think you're going?" a playful manner laced in your tone, but still a genuine question. "oh, hi love, we have practice today." you only shook your head in return, crouching down to take off the one shoe he managed to get on.

"they have practice today, you have a sprained ankle, so you've earned yourself a day with me." as much as he didn't want to miss practice and risk falling behind, the idea of spending time with you sounded amazing. the long practice hours on top of the extra time he spent in the studio pushing himself past his limits had meant you didn't get to see each other much, so who was he to deny the opportunity. "you're very convincing y/n." he smiled at you, shifting himself back on his bed and motioning for you to come up next to him.

gladly accepting the offer, you shuffled next to him and leaned into his side,"i have my moments, but i also think you might be a little biased." a laugh left the both of you, "maybe a little bit." he pressed a kiss to your cheek, his own flushing at the action, "but you just have a very good case."

you got up for a moment, earning a pout from the boy before he realized you were coming right back, this time with his laptop in hand. "movie day?" his eyes lit up at the suggestion, "i'd love to."

matthew ;

[matthew] everyone's been working so hard that we got an extra day off :D do you wanna come over?

you smiled at the message, excited at any time to spend with your boyfriend, but you couldn't help but worry about how hard they'd been working themselves. you had seen all the late nights matthew was pulling at the dance studio to make sure he had the choreo down and you had seen the way it was weighing on him, so you were just glad he could have a day to rest; so you shot back a text saying you'd be there in 20. and that's how you ended up at their dorm once again.

"matthew-" you dragged out, walking into his room after ricky let you in a moment prior. a smile immediately spread across his face, "y/n-" he mirrored, getting out of bed to hug you, "what do you wanna do?" he asked, thinking maybe you wanted to go out. "i was thinking we could just stay in? i know you're exhausted matthew, you can't hide it behind a pretty smile." the pretty smile in question had turned into a sheepish smile, knowing he had been caught despite saying he wasn't overworking himself.

he sighed, "i promise i'm okay, but that sounds nice." you smiled, knowing you had won this battle and sat down on his bed, dragging him by the hand to sit with you and letting his head lean on you as you carded your fingers through his hair. "you need to take care of yourself matthew," he only hummed in agreement as he melted into your touch, earning a lighthearted sigh from you before speaking up, "but it's so much nicer being taken care of by you."

taerae ;

"i'm not a baby," taerae huffed, shuttering at the cold cloth being placed on his forehead, "it's just a bad headache i'm fine." despite his standoffish reaction, you could tell by the way he smiled when he thought you weren't looking that deep down, he loved being babied like this. "like it or not, i'm gonna help you as much as i can," you said in a hushed voice, attempting to not make his head hurt any worse.

leaving his side for a moment to shut the blinds, you caught a pout out of the corner of your eye, simply smiling at your boyfriend and his antics before returning to his side and sliding in next to him, "now try and get some rest." taerae shut his eyes for a moment, "you know you don't have to stay here with me." he breathed out, trying to stop a smile from spreading across his face at the idea of getting to just lay around with you. deciding to toy with him a bit, you went to stand up, "i can just go hang out with matthew-" before you could get your sentence out, his hand was grabbing onto yours.

"please stay," he attempted to drag you back to bed with him. "i thought you didn't need me to stay here," you questioned, a playful tone in your voice, knowing you were breaking his exterior down. "doesn't mean i don't want you here." if it wasn't so dark you'd be able to see the heat radiating off of his cheeks, but you had a feeling it was there anyways. "i see," you hummed, sliding in next to him yet again with a wide smile plastered on your face, "then i guess i can stay."

ricky ;

"ricky, you're running a fever, please sit down," you tried to reason with him but it was no use, the stubborn boy insisted he would just "power through it." but with the way he was wobbling from dizziness, you knew you weren't letting him go anywhere today. all it took was him attempting to put on his jacket with a little too much force for him to realize that maybe he wasn't okay.

"you know," he mumbled, "maybe i'll sit down, just for a minute." you only shook your head before grabbing him by the arm and leading him to his bed, lightly pushing him down and making sure his head hit the pillow. "feel better already?" you questioned, already knowing the answer, and that he'd be too stubborn to admit to it, but the small smile accompanied by a nod was enough for you.

"i'll be right back," you turned to head to the kitchen, hoping zhang hao would know where the ibuprofen was. "where are you going," his voice was quiet, almost as if he was worried you were just going to leave him there. "just gonna go get something for that fever and some water, you never drink enough water." you joked, successfully making ricky laugh in the process, getting another head nod before leaving.

by the time you returned from the goose chase zhang hao sent you on to finding ibuprofen, ricky had dozed off; he looked cute like that, you thought to yourself. opting to leave the medicine on his side table, you planted a kiss on his burning forehead, "get some rest," you whispered, despite knowing he can't hear you. at least you'd be there when he woke up.

gyuvin ;

"gyuvin, i love you," you sighed, "but what use am i to you if i'm also sick." the boy was convinced that you needed to be attached at all times, even when he was sick. you were happy to take care of him, really, but being sick was not your idea of a fun time. "we could be sick together!" he beamed, as if that was a genius idea that you hadn't considered.

you playfully put your hands on your hips, "is me taking care of you not enough?" he quickly shook his head, appreciating how much you had been taking care of him throughout the day, "not at all," he trailed off, "but i'm lonely and we both have nothing better do to, so why aren't you cuddling with me right now?" as much as you wanted to deny it, it did sound nice.

you huffed before muttering a "scoot over," causing gyuvin's smile to widen, "so you do love me!" he joked, getting a disapproving smile in return. "if i get sick i'm blaming you." gyuvin shuffled in his spot, turning and throwing an arm and a leg over you, planting a kiss on your temple "i'll take the blame, it's worth it."

gunwook ;

"how did i get so lucky," he flashed his gummy smile at you as you walked through the door, a glass of water and ibuprofen in one hand and an ice pack in the other. "you deserve to be taken care of gunwook," you mirrored his smile, handing him the medicine to take for his headache before leaning him back onto his pillow and resting the ice pack against his forehead. "i'm just glad i get to do it."

having left plenty of room for you on the bed, you scooted in next to your boyfriend, leaning against the headboard and letting his head rest on your chest. "try and get some rest yeah? the medicine should kick in soon," you smiled at the boy, playing with his hair as he hummed in response, feeling his breathing slow and even out.

you laid like that for a few hours, eventually drifting off yourself before you found yourself waking up to gunwook reaching over you, placing the ice pack on the side table. "feeling a bit better?" you mumbled, still opening your eyes. he smiled wide, nodding his head, "much better, thank you y/n." now it was your turn to smile at his cute demeanor and appearance; his damp forehead with strands of hair sticking to his, the way his hair was sticking up in all directions.

"anytime." you reached up to pushed the hair off of his forehead, "i know you'd do the same for me." he hummed, grabbing your hand in his and giving it a light squeeze, "always."

yujin ;

"yujin, you can take the day off, you're practically falling asleep standng here talking to me." you sighed, it hurt to see him like this. yujin was always pushing himself too hard, trying desperately to not disappoint the older members. "but-" he started, a pout on his face. "no buts, i talked to hanbin and he said to keep you home today."

all he could do was smile at the thought of his hyungs and you wanting to take care of him, but he couldn't help but feel worried he'd fall behind. as if reading his mind, you spoke up again, "you're not gonna fall behind, yujin you're more talented than you give yourself credit for." his smile grew as he heard your praises, "thank you," he said sheepishly, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

"will you at least hang out with me today?" he asked, voice hopeful at the idea of spending a day with you. "i was hoping you'd ask," you smiled, sitting on the bed, yujin following suit.

at some point the two of you had decided to set up in the living room; a mountain of blankets and pillows adorning the couch in an attempt to have the comfiest afternoon to yourselves. the pizza you ordered sitting on the table as you found something to watch on the tv. "thank you again," he turned to you with a shy smile, "i needed this." you could only smile in return, "i know you did yujinnie."

[gingersnaptaff]

(Okay, so I know I said I was gonna do marriage laws and queenship stuff in regards to welsh laws - and I will! - but here is a nice, quick round-up about BARDS

*SHREDS ON A HARP*

Okay, so this is inspired by @gawrkin 's recent posts on bards because the laws surrounding them are SUPER FUN. And Wales LOVES LOVES LOVES their bards. (Myself included.)

Right, so, without further ado, ONWARDS.

*shreds harp aggressively again*

So the 'spurious triads' the author is referring to are presumably to do with IOLO MORGANNWG *ominous thunderclap*.

I shan't go too much into him as suffice to say, we gotta keep this shit SHORT, but he was a massive forger from Glamorgan (that's what Morgannwg means. It's his bardic name. Iolo is Edward.) who made up a bunch of triads and Celtic / medieval manuscripts including some of the Welsh Triads. Also, he is the reason why the Eisteddfod has the Gorsedd of bards.

So a mixed bag, y'know.

ANYWAY. They're very high-rank on account of being the literally Yellow Pages of Celtic and medieval Welsh societies. If you had a question that needed answering you'd ask a bard. They were like Google. They would know a man's lineage (and Welsh lineages are confusing. There were men named Dafydd ap Dafydd ap Dafydd ap Dafydd. No, I'm not joking.) battles, monarchs, myths, songs, stories. Anything.

And they had to SING. And play an instrument. Namely either a harp or a crwth.

This baby is crwth! It's a little like a violin but much darker in tone. They were extinct for a while but they've undergone a revival and they are FUN!

Also, the court bard had to SING to the queen about Camlann 'in a low voice.' I've heard various reasons suggested as to why and one of them is to remind her that Gwenhwyfar's infidelity was the main reason for King Arthur's downfall, but I think it's probably because of The Slap. Idk though. I'm just guessing, buddies.

Still, it's cool that the queen got a special sing-song.

Also, the bard being 'invested with a chess board' suggests to me that the game of Gwyddbwyll that Arthur and Owain play in the Mabinogion signals that they're bards. Gwyddbwyll being the type of chess the bards would've been familiar with. Plus, we know Arthur is somewhat of an amateur bard (Culhwch and Olwen being the prime example where he sings his terrible englyn about Cai to his face. Arthur, ur a fuckin BASTARD.) so it's in keeping with his character.

Also, I think it's adorable that the harp 'always descended to the youngest son.'

If you want a story that deals with bards and their privileged position in Welsh society and also wants ur heart RIPPED OUT may I suggest 'The Assembly of the Severed Head' by Hugh Lupton. It deals with a bard in a monastery after he's almost perished in a raid and the monks writing out the Mabinogion so they can give it to Llywelyn Fawr. It deals with war, love, loss, and also stonking good historical context. Also lots of poetry!!!!

Final fact: bards in Wales weren't wiped out by Edward the First. That's a fuckin myth. Don't come round here with ur fuckin myths. Old Longshanks has done enough already. May he eat shit.

(Also, Taliesin gets all the good rep but what about my boy Aneirin?)

Okay, BYEEEEE!!!!

P.S.: have an Eisteddfod chair!

[livfastdieyoung69]

ID LIKE TO REQUEST SOMETHING LIV‼️‼️‼️ if i can 😭

maybe jeff with an oblivious reader or the other way around? whatever u think…. And then maybe Matt and Lita are like “THIS IS GETTING ON MY NERVES” or some shit?????!!!!

ur da best!

AN UNSUSPECTING LOVER

The adrenaline after a match always made your head pound and your body jittery. Especially for the likes of Y/N, who pushed through the curtain with a limp and a gleaming smile from the praise of backstage staff. They were quick to ask for the nearest source of water which, for some reason, was only in catering. Out of breath and truly now deperate for water- because why would they only have it in catering and have catering like, five miles away from the gorilla?? Either way, Y/N, walked into catering with an agitated sigh and finally reached their prized water.

Half way through their water bottle, Y/N heard familiar laughter from behind them. Turning around and taking the plastic bottle from their lips, they were quick to find Team Xtreme who had very clearly been watching them.

“Oh, hey guys!” Now, out of breath from chugging the much aforementioned water, they greeted the three with a grin while moving over to the table they were seated at. Lita returned their cheerful hello from her place in between the boys and Matt gave Y/N a smile across the table.

“Hi, n/n.” Jeff looked up at them leaning into the vacant chair next to him, love sick expression too obvious to everyone but them.

“Hi, Jeff.” They repeated, voice as sweet as can be and grin growing cheekier. “Oh, did you see my match?” They leaned in closer to him, giving his arm a -unfortunately, for Jeff- friendly swat. “I tried to do a Swanton variation thing, was it any good?”

“It was great, I loved it! Everything you do’s perfect, wouldn't have expected any less.” Matt scoffed at the infatuated boy and Lita swatted at him- a lot less nice than y/n had done to Jeff.

“Oh, you’re too sweet!” They moved even closer, hand gently landing on his shoulder at his compliment. “Well, I’m gonna get going, I gotta shower. But I’ll see you guys!” As they walked away, Lita quickly turned to Jeff with wide eyes, expecting something from him. But he only sat and watched their leaving form.

“Jeff! You were supposed to ask them out!” She stressed, exasperated.

“Oops.” He mumbled from behind his hand of the arm he had propped up against the back of his chair, eyes never leaving y/n.

“God, I am so sick of this! Matt, give him some advice, how’d you ask me out?”

“Uh, I just kinda kissed you.”

“And then?” Lita egged him on.

“And then you told me we were going on a date..” At Matt’s quiet confession, Lita pushes up from her chair, hands slamming against the table.

“You guys are so useless, I have to do everything around here! Why can’t you just come out and say that you like them instead of looking at them like a little love sick puppy all the time!”

“Lita, I really have been trying everything. I even did the whole hand size comparison thing you told me to do! Y/n’s just..not into me.” Jeff sunk into his chair as he spoke before hearing a scoff at the table next to them to find Billy Gunn, who had turned away from his conversation with a couple other people waiting for the night to end.

“Yeah, right. Do you not see the way that kid looks at you? Plus, one time Hunter asked them out and they said no- ‘cause they were goin’ out with you that night- but they would love to hang out some other time. Y/n’s just a little oblivious sometimes, you gotta put it right in their face.” Billy turned back to his prior conversation, leaving Jeff to swallow all of that. Lita, still very frustrated let out an angry groan.

“Well, if you know all that and still won’t do anything, then I’ll do this myself too!”

“Yeah, Jeff, shes gonna do it herself.” Matt smuggly told his brother, kicking his feet into Lita’s abandoned chair. Jeff glared over at him, before quickly leaving his seat and following after Lita.

Jeff had easily found Lita- banging on your locker room door. Jeff tried to pull her away before you heard, but the door opened just as he reached her.

“What? What’s the matter?” Y/n stressed, wrapped in a towel and dripping wet. Jeff drew in a breath and quickly flushed, turning away from the door but Lita quickly turned him back and grabbed him by the bicep.

“He’s got something to tell you.” Lita spoke as she looked over at him, raising her eyebrows with expectancy and shoved him into the room, almost into y/n, before quickly making her exit.

“So, whattaya gotta tell me?” Y/n asked, a little uncomfortable from the semi-wet clothes stuck to their body after rushing to get dressed.

Jeff shifted nervously, eyes moving around the room to meet anything but y/n, taking a quick breath before finally spitting it out.

“I really like you, n/n. Um, a lot.”

“Oh. Well, I like you too!” Y/n answered, their smile shining bright. Jeff smiled softly at them, all nerves leaving him.

“You do?”

“‘Course I like you, you’re my best friend!” Jeff couldn’t help but let out a short laugh at their explanation, his head falling and hand coming to rub at his temples. “What’s wrong? Did I say something bad?”

“No, sweetheart. I meant-“ He couldn’t help but burst into sweet laughter again, looking up at them. “I meant in a romantic way. I want to go out with you, and kiss you, and spend long, peaceful nights with you.”

“Oh.” Y/n’s voice was soft, face burning from a bit of embarrassment but also from Jeff’s endearing words. “I didn’t- I didn’t think you were into me like that.”

“Is it okay that I am?” His voice turned soft too. He stepped forward, softly grasping their forearm. Y/n’s hand moved to touch his arm too, the room filled with a tension much better than the anxiety it held earlier.

“It’s perfect. Is it okay I’m into you like that?” Soft voices turning to whispers, adoration burning further in their close proximity. His thumb smoothed over their skin, grasping a bit firmer, but still very softly. His other hand moved up, taking place on their cheek.

“That's all I could ever ask for.”

y/n is very much sunshine in this, dont know y ig i just felt like it but either way yippee!! this was fun to write and a lil corny but i love making mr jeffro a lover boy also dont know where the water bottle obsession came from I just ran with it after I wrote it (a bit of an unconscious solitude reference perhaps?) also Lita is a girlboss

the first bit of this was very fun to write while staring at that pic teehee he is so silly and u are so amazing rita <33 thank you for requesting 😽😽

and my tumblr is fr actually fully functioning rn so it let me do the little keep reading thing!! it never appears up on my computer for whatever reason but this did take me like an hour to reread bc im watching one of my fav streamers and kept getting distracted so I really didn’t reread it very well tbh

[poge-life]

𝟚𝟘 ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕄𝕋𝕍

So, this is a little bit different than the other interview fics I’ve done. Drew isn’t in this one, it’s more of how someone playing the character I created would answer the questions asked. But I did have it to where they are dating so he is mentioned quite a bit. This is based off the interview Drew did for MTV, so go on and check that out!

“Hi, guys. I’m (y/n) (l/n) and I’m doing 20 questions for 2023 MTV.”

‘Hardest Outer Banks spoiler you’ve had to keep?’

“Either that Big John is still alive or that Rafe and Avery break up this season.” You spoke

‘If you were to make a fan page for someone, who would it be?’

“Madelyn Cline. I am her biggest fan and love her with all my whole heart,” you laughed, leaning back in the chair, “my username would be ‘maddyclinemarryme’.”

‘Favorite line from the show?’

“Keep running that mouth and see if don’t come knockin’ that J-Crew lookin’ ass out’

You let out a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand before taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry but that whole scene between Rafe and Barry is on repeat in my head all the time. Just the dynamic between them is amazing and cracks me up.”

‘What was your first impression of Drew when you two met?’

You couldn’t help but smile at the mention of your boyfriend. It seemed like a lifetime ago when you two met. You were blown away by him at the table read and how well he could just easily switch over to a character like Rafe.

“It’s cheesy but I fell for him at the table read. I was just so blown away by him and how he could get so into a character like Rafe without being anything like him,” You smiled, “We were both kind of shy around each other but we sucked it up and spent a lot of time together considering we had most of our scenes together.”

“By the end of filming, we felt like we had known each other for years.”

‘Have you ever had a crush on an animated character?’

There was absolutely no hesitation from you as soon as you answered, “Danny Phantom. He was the first character I had seen that set the tone of what kind of guys I would have a thing for.”

‘Drew hesitated with his answer.’

You looked over to one of the producers as you raised your eyebrows, “Who’d he say?”

‘Lola Bunny’

You rolled your eyes as you tapped the microphone against your lips, “Him and any other guy his age. I will say, Lola was like the cultural reset for cartoon women.”

‘Who is an artist you’ve had on repeat?’

“T-Swift. Or Adele. My first ever CD was Taylor’s debut album and I was in love with her. Adele just knows how to write music that knows just where to hit you and gets me all emotional.”

This next one was a voice message they had chosen. They had asked fans to send in any kind of questions they wanted and they would pick the best ones.

‘You recently said in an interview that your guilty pleasure was ‘America’s Next Top Model’, who was your favorite winner?’

“Ugh, I know there’s so much controversy about ANTM but I can't help but love the show. My sisters and I would sit there and watch it all the time. We lived for the drama. My favorite winner would probably be… Whitney from season 10. She was the first ever plus size girl to ever make it to the end. She’s also the only plus size model to ever win the show and that kind of gave me a sense of…security, I guess? That you don’t have to be a stick or have the same body type as everyone to be a model.”

‘What did you think of Rafe’s buzz cut?’

You excitedly sat up in your seat as you held out your hand, “Can I just point out the fact that Rafe hasn’t had the same hair cut in any season?”

“But I was surprised at how well that played out for Drew because he was practically shitting himself because he thought Jonas, our showrunner, was gonna get upset with him but he actually wanted Rafe to have buzzed hair this season. I was actually a major fan of the buzzed look.”

“Then again, I’m a little biased because he’s my boyfriend but he always looks good.” You shrugged, leaning back in the chair as the producers laughed at your words, “He’s sex on legs.”

‘What’s your favorite line from season 3?’

“ ‘What do you need from me to bring down Rafe?’ I think that says enough.”

‘What would be your ‘most likely’

“Most likely to be napping. It doesn’t matter where I am or what we’re doing. I will find somewhere to take a nap.”

They had pulled up some clips from the premiere of season 3 from some of the questions they asked and it was Madison, “ (Y/N), who has the best music taste out of our friend group and why is it me?”

You let out a laugh as you looked back over at the camera, agreeing with her, “Madison does have the best. Only because she and I have the same music taste so I’m always vibin’ when I’m with her.”

‘What is your go-to karaoke song?’

“Drew always makes me sing ‘Tequila’ with him. He says it’s because it’s only one word throughout the whole thing,” You explained, “Drew likes to commit to things but finds the easiest way to do it.”

‘What is your irrational fear?’

You shuddered as you spoke, “Spiders. I am terrified of them. Drew kills all the spiders in our house. It’s ironic because I have a spider-web tattooed on my shoulder. But do not ask me to do anything with a spider or else I will cry.”

‘If Avery had a theme song, what would it be?’

You thought about it for a second, tilting your head in thought, “Happier than ever by Billie Eilish. Especially for this season. This season really shows that Avery is struggling to hold onto her relationship with Rafe and starts to realize he isn’t the same guy he was when they first got together.”

‘If you had to get a tattoo right now, what would it be?’

You let out a puff of air as you leaned back in the chair, “Jesus, I don’t even know what I’m getting when I set up my appointment. I’d probably get something that has to do with my dog. He’s been my best friend since I’ve had him.”

‘What’s your favorite book?’

“ ‘The Way I used to be.’ It’s the first book I ever finished in one sitting. It was a lot darker than what I was used to reading but it easily became one of my favorites. I highly recommend it but it does cover very sensitive topics, so please look into them before you read it.”

‘What is your dream theater role?’

“Oo, Satine from ‘Moulin Rouge'.’ I fell in love with her and the show the first time I watched it. Or Christine Daae from ‘Phantom’ but I cannot sing for the life of me.”

‘What would the internet be surprised to learn about you?’

“I’m a homebody. I prefer staying in over going out. Probably watching ‘Degrassi’ or ‘Lord of the rings.”

‘Favorite TV show you’ve recently watched?’

“The walking dead,” you answered, “I stopped watching it after Rick left because I was tired of getting my feelings hurt by that show every 5 minutes. But I got back into it after the last season came out.”

“I have the game on my iPad and I’m constantly playing it.”

‘What do you think of everyone shipping Rafe and Barry?’

You let out a laugh, throwing your head back before looking back at the camera, “Oh, lord. I find it hilarious. Drew and Nick are a dynamic duo and everyone loves them. They’re constantly sending each other fan edits people make. They love it.”

“Rafe and Barry have more chemistry than Rafe and Avery do, I think.”

“And there you have it. That was 20 questions with MTV and you guys got to know me a little bit better. Be sure to check out season 3 on Netflix and go watch some other interviews we’ve done.”

Are there any specific interviews you guys want me to do? I honestly love doing them!

[blessedwithabadomen]

in love with the mess - day five

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : fluff, flirting, drinking, everyone gets a kiss

length : 4.2k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @somebodyels3

a/n : here we go!! enjoy and feel free to comment, ask, reblog 💗

•••

day five

Something about the check-in at the hotel in Manchester was fishy and had caused a ridiculous amount of chaos that needed to be sorted out by the tour managers. I made the best of the situation and got comfortable in the lobby with my laptop, determined to get some work done ahead of time. Lia was going to be here in just a few hours and I'd promised her to free my schedule as much as possible.

Plus, I knew we would be drinking, so the ride to Glasgow tomorrow was going to be spent regretting my hangover and lying in my bunk, not doing hours of work.

The only strange thing about the day so far was that I had seen neither Oli nor Noah. Noah’s absence was to be expected to a certain extent; he was in a different band, on a different bus, with slightly deviating schedules, so the chances of running into each other could be quite low. I hadn't gotten a message from him either though. At least rumour had been going around that he woke up as good as new this morning, whatever had been beating him down yesterday had vanished completely. Oli was more surprising considering he was consistently put into an adjacent hotel room, travelled in the same tour bus and technically employed me.

Funnily enough, the question about the two missing frontmen was answered sooner than the check-in chaos got resolved. I heard the two of them entering the lobby together before I saw them. Pushing each other away, both seemed eager to get to me first as soon as they spotted me, stealing a bag from each other's hands over and over again.

“Fucking stop, I’m the one who knew to get this for her,” Oli complained, trying to keep the paper bag out of Noah’s reach, who was quicker than him and caught it behind Oli’s back.

“Yeah, and I’m the one who’s gonna give it to her!”

“Give it back, you wanker!”

Their fight came to an abrupt end as they stood in front of me looking up at them over my laptop.

“I got you something,” Oli explained, motioning to the bag.

“We got you something,” Noah corrected.

“Just because you walked next to me, doesn’t mean you had anything to do with it!”

I felt another bout of their little spat coming on, so I quickly intervened and stole the bag from Noah’s hands. Both of them quieted down immediately, watching me as I opened it up. The sweet scent of pastries filled my nostrils immediately.

“Are these…?” I didn’t finish my question as I brought the baked good to my nose, inhaling it deeply once again before taking a hearty bite ouf of its flakey goodness. I didn't know how Oli new. I couldn't remember if I'd ever told him and if I had, I was sure it was in passing only. The fact that he not only was aware of my sweet tooth but also went out of his way to satisfy it with my favourite goods caused my stomach to flip. “Thank you so much, that’s so sweet.”

“From your favourite bakery,” Oli proudly agreed. “You said you weren’t in Manchester that often and- well, I thought after yesterday-”

“Wait, what happened yesterday?”

Suddenly, Noah was all ears. I was much too preoccupied with the best thing I’d tasted in months to think about how to explain. Oli had mentioned it, Oli could solve the situation.

“Aubrey was in a right mood last night,” Oli said with grin. “A little brat.”

I almost choked on my pastry, a few flakes flying away from me as I got my breathing back under control. I shouldn’t have been so surprised. Oli was hardly known for being a prude about these things.

“And I went to sleep instead,” Noah groaned, sounding genuinely remorseful. Our eyes met for a moment. Somehow, I knew we were both remembering last night, too, me bringing him back to the hotel room, him warning me off. He looked away first, as if a little embarrassed. I wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“I’m sure you’ll find out for yourself soon enough,” it burst out of me. But I’d already learned that the combination of us three left very little room to hold back in that aspect.

Oli leaned down to me, his thumb wiping at the corner of my mouth where some chocolate had seemingly gotten stuck. He tapped my lips. It was enough for me to dumbly open my mouth and suck it in, twirling my tongue around it to get another taste. He chuckled darkly, satisfied how easily I went along with him, before pulling away, finding another bit of chocolate to swipe away, this time offering his thumb to Noah.

He was torn. Quite visibly so. The tension hung in the air as he tried to decide on which move to make now, all three of us basically holding our breaths to see what would transpire.

Then, some loud laughter from the crew erupted somewhere else in the lobby, loud enough to pull him out of it. He actually shook his head, as if that could make the thoughts disappear.

“Fuck you, Oli,” he muttered, without much force behind it.

“Yeah,” Oli laughed, licking the chocolate of his thumb himself, “I bet you’d like to.”

•••

Whoever said that time flies when you’re having fun had never felt time slipping through your fingers when you were desperately trying to get your boss to get to all things in his agenda on time while he was being an absolute arse for no reason but to amuse himself. On top of that, your best friend was blowing up your phone in excitement of getting to see you, effectively starting a countdown that only served to distract you from the work you should be doing.

By seven o’clock, I was thoroughly exhausted and annoyed. At some point, Noah had even pulled me aside to give me a much needed hug, although it had been cut short by Lia announcing her imminent arrival. Luckily, Lia did what she did best and that was raise my mood impossibly the very second I saw her.

Her arms around me felt like home. She was the only anchor I felt I still had, while I was always trying to never get too settled in one place with my work taking me all over, but we’d been friends since childhood and she’d always refused to budge. I didn’t thank her for it enough.

“Okay, catch me up asap, what’s been happening, what’s been going down, have you managed to bang anyone yet?”

I shot an apologetic smile at the two stagehands walking past as I walked down the corridor with Lia, an AAA pass hung around her neck and so excited that I wondered if she’d had a drink before coming here. With a slightly quicker step, I dragged her into Oli’s dressing room, aware he was currently hanging out with the rest of his band.

“Well, there’s been no fucking, but…”

I awkwardly started tidying up the dressing room. It came as second nature, really, trying to make sure things were in order, helping Oli out for later, not letting him drown in his chaos. I busied myself with a hoodie that I decided needed folding.

“But?! Aubrey, you’re not seriously gonna leave me starved for information here!”

“I mean, I did make out with Noah and I’ve seen Oli’s dick, so…”

Her squealing, I was pretty sure, could be heard next door and I couldn’t help but laugh. Lia was nothing if not supportive of basically anything I did.

I gave her a quick rundown of the last few days, keeping some of the details to myself while still letting her know what I’d been up to, including just about every endeavour I’d found myself in with the guys. She did nothing short of react appropriately, aw-ing and ooh-in and gasping and laughing. I’d missed having her around.

In the middle of me letting Lia know that, yes, I most definitely got cleaned up after last night’s escapade and, no, Oli and I hadn’t spoken about it yet and also, no, I didn’t think Noah knew, when the door to the dressing room flew open and revealed Oli himself.

“Speak of the devil,” Lia mused and I briefly panicked about her letting Oli know just what we were talking about, even though I knew fully well she would never betray me like that.

“I could say the same about you,” Oli replied, attempting to sound cruel but unable to hide the smile on his face.

“Why on earth would you have been talking about me?”

“Oh, I wasn’t. I was referring to the part where you are the devil.”

“Oh, you bastard!” Lia exclaimed with a laugh. “You coming out with us after the show?”

“Hell no. We got an early bus call and a four-hour drive to Glasgow. And I know what you get up to, Lia.”

My heart sank a little, even though I knew Oli was only being reasonable. We did only have a few hours in the hotel before we needed to get going again. I was going to be fine, really - I planned on not getting blackout drunk and there wasn’t too much left for me to do tomorrow that I hadn’t already taken care of. Plus, I wasn’t the one who had to be up on stage that night delivering the show of their life.

“Fucking party pooper.”

“I’m so much of a party pooper that I specifically came to get you two because Bad Omens are about to start. Managed to organise some wine for you too. Good enough?”

“Just about,” Lia mused, standing up and walking past him and out of the room with the confidence only someone who had on idea which way the stage was could have. We both looked at her leave, overly amused, until I remembered she was my friend and I should probably make sure she wouldn’t get completely lost.

Oli stopped me at the door. “You gonna stop by when you get back tonight?”

“I could just text you that I got back safe, you know. It might get late.”

He slung his arm around my waist, pulling me into a side hug, a telling smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll gladly wake up for you.”

•••

I wasn’t quite sure how we ended up in Oli’s suite - a suite! Motherfucker had a suite all to himself! - playing questionable drinking games (Truth or dare? Never have I ever? 21 questions? Honestly, it was hard to tell at this point) way past midnight and maybe it was because I was a little intoxicated - not drunk, I was still aware I had a bus ride in just a few hours - but I was tipsy enough not to question it just yet.

The evening had gone something like this: Oli had, in fact, organised two bottles of wine and exclusive seats for us during the show. Lia was blown away by Bad Omens and the way Noah sang and how she couldn’t blame me at all for crushing on him. Then, Lia followed it up by being blown away by Bring Me The Horizon and their production and the Oli’s stage presence and the fact that I had somehow not banged him yet. Especially when he effectively climbed his videographer. Didn't help with the thoughts in my head either. Both of those bottles were killed by the time the show was over.

We had briefly ventured out to Lia’s favourite bar for a few shots, but had quickly realised that talking about Oli and Noah in a crowded place full of people who had just left the very concert they had performed at, wasn’t the wisest decision. So, with some more alcohol in tow, Lia had stolen my phone and texted the two men and somehow, somehow convinced them to join us for a little afterparty. Now all of us were feeling the buzz and going along with Lia’s questionable ideas.

“Worst place you’ve ever vomited?”

“Just about every single time it happened on stage, and love, it happened,” Oli laughed. Those had been the bad times. I didn’t miss them at all. I’d trade them for this version of Oli, happy, healthy, optimistic, flirty, bloody gorgeous any day.

“Alright. No need to get into that. Noah, empty your wallet and show everyone what’s inside.”

Noah didn’t hesitate, grabbing the item from the back pocket of his trousers and emptying its contents. There wasn’t too much interesting stuff in there - ID, a credit card, some loose change in more than one currency. Lia grabbed onto the condom wrappers immediately. Three of them.

“Ultra thin, extra lube, ribbed,” she read aloud. “Damn, someone knows how to treat their partners.”

Noah blushed a little under the redness that the alcohol had already flushed his cheeks with. I was pretty sure I did the same, my mind running away with thoughts. This was good. He quickly gathered them up again and stowed them away but I didn’t think he missed the way Oli raised his eyebrows at him. Surprise enough that he didn’t say anything.

“Aubrey, who would you like to kiss in this room?”

“Who wouldn’t I like to kiss!” I giggled, taking another sip of wine, even though it was starting to get to my head. Obviously.

“Well, me, hopefully, or you’ll have to deal with my wife,” Lia laughed, holding up the wedding ring on her finger. “Anyway. What caused your last relationship to break down?”

She didn’t aim the question at anyone in particular, but Noah, sweet, closed-off Noah, suddenly had an intense urge to answer.

“What didn't,” he groaned, throwing his had back and cradling the bottle in his hands. “Touring, the distance, the groupies that don’t exist, the missed phone calls, the not being enough.” He threw his hands in the air in defeat. I thought it was the most he had revealed about himself, like, ever. “And here comes the kicker. I was talking about proposing to her with the guys and looking up rings the very morning of the day she broke up with me.”

Silence engulfed us. A comment from Folio, just a few days ago, and Noah’s very unamused answer was whirling in my head, but I was too intoxicated to make perfect sense of it right now. I just knew there was a connection.

I didn’t know if telling him I was sorry would cut it. Bit of a big deal, really, finding someone to marry who drops you like that. What do you say to that? Luckily, good old Oli jumped in pretty much immediately.

“Emotionally unavailable and obsessed with myself,” he said. “Pretty sure that’s a direct quote, too. Probably not too wrong about it either.”

Apparently we were sharing break-up stories now. My turn, I decided.

“Told her that, very theoretically, mind, I would be open to polyarmory. Because, you know, I definitely think you can be in love with more than one person. And if everyone’s happy, I’m sure there’s something great about relationships that aren’t just two people. Well,” I mused, throwing back another sip of wine to keep myself going, spilling a little on my top, “all she heard was ‘this is an open relationship without any rules now’ and went and banged someone else the next day.”

The three of us looked each other, throwing pitiful looks around, realising we were all pretty fucked up in our own ways, and suddenly broke out laughing. It almost took my breath away, the intensity of the relief of sharing these little things with people so dear to me, letting them understand me a little better, understanding them a little better in return and oh god more wine on me. These jeans would have to go straight into the washing.

“Enough tearjerker stories,” Lia announced, but there was no malice in her words. “Let’s get back to the fun questions! Worst sex experience! Oli, please, I want to hear yours.”

“Alright, first one that comes to mind right now, couple of years ago, right, I hook up with this girl, all fun and games, but it’s very fucking tame, you know? And out of nowhere she just fucking chokes me. I’m not saying I don’t like it, but that proper came out of fucking nowhere. Like. Normally, you’d ease up to it, if you hadn’t talked about it.”

Suddenly, Oli seemed to be sitting much closer to Noah than before. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination. Or the light.

“You’d have your hands on them somewhere,” Oli explained, drawing out his words, as his hand landed on Noah’s chest. He was caught off guard for a moment, but silently allowed the moment to play out. “Slowly move them up, see if they enjoy it.” 

Oli followed through. Noah was definitely enjoying it. I was transfixed on the display in front of me.

 “Get a little skin-on-skin contact.”

His fingers were tracing the line where Noah’s shirt ended, just letting his fingertips play with the hem a little. I’d never seen Oli so gentle, but it was doing things to my body. Noah’s breathing was speeding up now, chest heaving, unable to keep it hidden. I couldn’t blame him at all.

“See how they react to your hand being closer to their throat.”

Oli’s hand moved higher, carefully stroking the skin at Noah’s neck. Noah swallowed, hard, his eyelids fluttering shut. It was as if he was loosing all control over his bodily reactions. It was intoxicating to watch.

“And maybe, you know, if they don’t move away or move your hand, you can give it a try.”

And Oli did. Wrapping his hand around Noah’s throat and squeezing a little. Just the slightest bit. Just the possibility of more. And Noah moaned.

“And that’s my cue to get myself on an uber home!” Lia declared loudly, standing up and just about catching the wine bottle that had been in her lap before it toppled over onto the carpet. She was swaying a little, quite obviously the most drunk out of the four of us and I quickly made the executive decision to accompany her downstairs and wait with her. Oli gave me a nod, a satisfied smirk on his face. Noah didn’t look at me at all, but he seemed to be questioning all his life choices.

“Girl! What’s going on between the two of them? I knew you were developing… something with both of them, you didn’t tell me about the two of them with each other!”

I awkwardly fumbled with Oli’s room key as we descended on the lift. “I don’t think they know either.”

“But, do you mind?”

I looked at her, thoughtful for a moment, almost missing the time frame to leave the lift as it arrived in the lobby. Did I mind?

“No,” I answered, without giving it any further thought, just knowing. “No, I really don’t.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Lia giggled, giving me a hug so enthusiastically it almost toppled us over. “Now go, go and get them together and then get them both for yourself.”

•••

I didn’t knock when I used the key card to get back into Oli’s room. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that I was going to be back - not only had I actively snatched the card from the desk but I had also left all my stuff in there. Still, none of us had seen the situation coming, apparently.

The first thing I saw when I entered the room was that neither Oli nor Noah were still sitting on the couch. The second thing I saw was that Oli had pressed Noah against the wall instead.

They didn’t notice me immediately, too caught up in their own world as Oli frantically pressed his lips to Noah’s. Entangled as if they simply couldn’t get close enough, one of Oli’s hands was in Noah’s hair, keeping him in place, keeping him complacent, the other running up the outside of his thigh, as Noah was pawing at Oli’s back, as if not sure what his hands were looking for, but trying all the same. My heart fluttered with… love? The door falling shut behind me caught their attention.

They didn’t jump apart. In fact, their hands were still exactly where they had left them. But both of them had turned their heads so fast it looked painful.

“Don’t stop on my account,” I grinned. “I’m very much enjoying this.”

Noah was visibly shaken up and out of breath and I wondered if that was what happened to people who got to kiss Oli Sykes, but Oli himself was in the best of moods.

“See, I heard that you went and kissed our Noah here,” he explained, slowly detaching himself from him. Noah’s body almost followed on its own account, seemingly not having enough of the other man just yet. “And I got really, really jealous. But now I’m realising that means he got to kiss you, too.”

“There’s really no need to be jealous, at all,” I replied, letting him come closer and closer, just to push him back onto the couch. Straddling his lap, my thighs on either side of his, was a logical conclusion. “You can kiss me anytime.”

There was a hint of hesitation. Something familiar in his eyes, something like home. A decade-long friendship that was begging to be ruined. I knew he saw the same in me. We’d done things with each other, things to each other, that went beyond any regular friendship. But this moment, this temptation of finally getting his mouth on mine, a kiss, felt like it weighed so much more heavily on both of us.

His hands landed on my thighs, moving up to the small of my back, giving me security and safety and all rationality be damned, I leaned down and allowed my lips to touch his.

A shockwave travelled through every inch of my being, then the tension evaporated, as if this was where I'd always meant to be. Oli was soft and pliant under me, a stark contrast to how he usually presented himself, to how he usually behaved around me even, but I indulged in the feeling, grabbing onto his arms to make them wrap around me, letting him hold me close, tightly. I couldn't stop my own hands from tracing along his torso, his neck, his face, silently mapping his body in a way I had never been allowed to before. When his tongue licked against my lips, I let him in.

The kiss became more frantic as I lost all self-control. Years and years of unfulfilled desires poured into us as I pressed myself into him. Oli tasted sweet, so much sweeter than expected, even with the beer still lingering. I could feel myself falling, deeper and deeper, like a feral animal willingly setting foot into a trap, the temptation of the bait calling too loudly to ignore.

I noticed the couch dip before my brain realised Noah was next to us. Then his hand was at the back of my head, gripping my hair and pulling me off Oli. Instantly, he had me turned toward him, Oli’s hands still on me, my body still on his lap, but now my lips were crashing into Noah’s. It was electrifying, his frantic kiss, how his lust must have built as he watched us. Oli’s mouth now at my neck, licking along my tendon, finishing it off with a soft bite.

Noah swallowed my moans easily, still holding me in place, still roughly moving my head to his own wishes. Oli was grinding up into me, his hard dick against my core making me squirm even through the layers, thoughts of what it had looked like, what he had looked like overwhelming my mind. When Noah let go of me it felt so sudden that I almost lost my balance, hands trying to find the couch table behind me as a way to steady myself. The dull noise of a bottle hitting the carpeted floor had all three of us halt in our movements.

The wine ended up on the carpet after all, like a bad metaphor for whatever the three of us had just started and might be unable to stop.

I got up from Oli’s lap, Noah also standing up as if he suddenly didn’t know where he was supposed to be anymore. The awkwardness in the room was tangible, the lines we had just crossed almost becoming visible in my mind as my tipsy brain struggled to make sense of the consequences.

When Noah and I announced our separate departures, Oli didn’t say a word, still staring at the dark red colour seeping into the plush beneath his feet. Both of us went in opposite directions in the hallway. I didn’t know if that was supposed to be a metaphor too.

[descendant-of-truth]

When are we gonna acknowledge the fact that the whole "Sonic is super cheerful around Shadow who finds him annoying" thing only started in Shadow the Hedgehog and that this isn't, like. their default

You wanna know what their original dynamic was? Sonic getting ticked off by Shadow's very presence, who would stop in the middle of anything no matter how urgent and time-sensitive it was just to mess with Sonic.

(He got sidetracked from his own mission to save Rouge from THE EXPLOSIVES THAT HE SET because the urge to make fun of Sonic was too strong. what is wrong with him)

And it's Sonic who starts their first fight, by the way. He was clearly taking Shadow much more seriously than the other way around; he genuinely wanted to fight, while I'm pretty sure Shadow just wanted to have some fun and show off. (AS THE BOMB IS STILL TICKING)

But at the same time, most likely because he was having fun, he seemed to be hoping that Sonic would prove himself to be something more than just... Some Guy. Why else would he seem disappointed that Sonic could be killed? And so impressed (dare I say proud) when it turned out that he survived by using Chaos Control with a fake Emerald?

All of the animosity was on Sonic's end - Shadow was the one who wanted someone to rival him. He never disliked Sonic, or found him annoying to be around. If he did, he wouldn't have spent so much time around him to begin with.

And they were somehow like this in Heroes, too. Despite his amnesia, Shadow once again listens to Sonic talk for a few seconds and immediately decides that he needs to taunt him. Searching for the answers to his identity can wait, he just thought of a great comeback and needs to style on this random hedgehog for a bit

Then you've got the absolute whiplash of Shadow's game, where all of a sudden Sonic is Super Friendly towards Shadow, who's having none of it. Even if you try to make the argument that Sonic is trying to be friendlier on purpose because he wants to bond with Shadow more, the game portrays it as if this is just How Sonic Is.

Sure, I'd expect him to be picking fewer fights with Shadow when they're working together to save the world, but he's like. borderline giddy all the time. it's kinda funny but so, so confusing in the grand scheme of things.

Sonic 06 gave a much more sensible portrayal of how the two would talk to each other after they're done being enemies, I think. There's a little bit of rivalry in there, but it's not born out of them conflicting with each other. There's no hesitation to work together, no grumbling from Shadow, and Sonic isn't being uncharacteristically excitable about it.

(Plus they retained the silent communication thing they had going at the end of SA2, which is nice)

Unfortunately, 06 was the first and only time that we would see the two of them written this way, as friends who maybe don't "hang out" but aren't the type to bicker or turn everything into a competition at the expense of practicality.

There was no hesitation to the respect they had for each other, either, which is easily the most baffling part of their current portrayals. Not even their Boom counterparts had any hangups about that, and they were legitimately antagonistic towards each other most of the time.

Case in point, I think it's very easy to look at their designs and put them into stereotypical little boxes where Sonic is the ray of sunshine while Shadow is too edgy to find him anything but annoying, but that's just. not how they are at all, and the actual ways their personalities used to bounce off of each other was both funnier and more interesting in my opinion

[sayakxmi]

Some ideas for V3 as Remanants of Despair* under the cut, cuz it's prolly gonna be rambly.

Gonna preface it all by saying that some stuff will likely be inspired by in fact by Buttercup_ghost if not just downright borrowed, bc their takes are great (fully recomending reading the fic), but I'm also trying to add my own spin to it.

Another thing is that I like the idea of V3 Remanants being delusional/convinced they're doing the right thing. They all gave me very strong self-righteous vibes, and it's a recipe for disaster. Like, class 77 are more "burning the world down to burn it" while 79 (V3) are like "gotta burn it/purge it to make it into a better place". Like, Junko specifically used the fact that they are naive and view themselves as good people against them.

Shuichi Saihara

Ok, so first of all - SAWhara? Amazing, spectuacular, never been done before, full credit to Buttercup_ghost bc I love this idea so much. But I kinda like the idea of Despair!Saihara being some kind of a harbinger of truth if you get me. He sort of is one in the game, but there he is gentle and unwilling, but as a Despair, he has none of that kindness he's occassionally willing to give to the culprits. No secrets are safe around him, he will dig it all out to cause strife and despair. Unless, of course, you can actually overcome it. In that case, you have a chance of surviving. He probably doesn't view it as truth ruining people's lives but the lies they'd told to hide it earlier.

Also, again from Buttercup_ghost, but the idea of Junko getting to Shuichi first makes just so much sense. The two best picks are either Shuichi or Kokichi, but I feel like they also cancel each other. They're both capable of falling, but also they're both capable of standing their grounds if others fall first. The difference is that Shuichi is liked and can get Junko close to others, while Kokichi is alone and he'll always be, so getting through him first is a shot in the knee kinda, bc others won't be as trusting as they would've been if you met literally anybody else first, F. Plus, there's a chance of using that loneliness against him later to make him fall, so it makes sense that way, too.

Kaede Akamatsu

It's like semi-borrowed from in fact (it's faster to write the fic titile than the author's, so I'll be doing that from now on), but only semi bc it's something I probably would have come up to myself even without reading it, like, girl decides to take the one for the team & kill somebody, hoping the person that dies will be the one that "deseved" that/was the real enemy, and it's similar here. Some people are Evil and they need to Die.

Rantaro Amami

Something something, failing your family will get you in trouble, that's also why one of the first people he kills are his own parents. I mean, you lost 12 daughters, by now you should have found at least one, you're rich and all that, you can afford it, but apparently it's only Rantaro who cares enough to involve a detective I guess? But, yeah, abusers of all kinds are the targets, neglectful parents etc etc. You get the idea. It sounds ok in paper, but the definition of abuse in his eyes is kind of unclear, so if you beat up your kid he'll be after you, and you can also just have a nasty argument with your spouse, and then you won't have a spouse, so. And, again, the point of V3 as RoD is that they are doing what they believe to be right, but they have sekwed up perception of right and wrong and zero limits.

K1-B0

Something we kinda forget about Kiibou is that he canonically looks down on Shuichi, like, bro just tells him he saw him as beneath him in their last FTE, and only changed his mind after some time. MAN. But, anyway, Despair!Kiibou isn't trying to be perceived as like humans or anything of this sort, I mean, why would he put himself on equal grounds with some people (derogatory)? He's so much better than them! He's a robot, he's smarter, he's stronger, he simply knows best. And people better recognize that or they'll get burned to crisps. I can also see him perceiving himself as somebody who should make the law (a nod to all that lawsuit things), he kinda goes dictator mode I guess. Fuck the three laws of robotics.

Gonta Gokuhara

Straight up stealing from in fact, bc Gonta going around mercy killing people who are "least likely to survive" is peak. Also love him not considering the rest of his class his friends anymore (save for Kokichi, but we'll get to it later).

Angie Yonaga

Again, in fact, Angie believing that Junko is her god makes sense to me. Grl started a cult probably, so first half of chapter 3, but there's more blood, I guess.

Tenko Chabashira

Definitely one of the more difficult ones to turn into a Despair, but I can sorta see her misandry spiking up. My idea is kinda that since Shuichi, a degenerate male, brought Junko to them, which put Himiko and other girls in danger, she straight up blamed him for what happened, and got radicalized over time. Though, admittedly, Despair!Tenko is a subject to change if I come up with something better.

Himiko Yumeno

Chapter 2 body discovery, except she's doing it on purpose. Himiko Yumeno, Blood is Magic. Maybe she embraces the "evil witch" archetype, too. Nobody will question her status as a mage if they're dead. I like where I'm going with it, but I'm struggling to put it into words, I hope you get the idea.

Miu Iruma

I tried to think of something, and against myself I ended up kinda agreeing with in fact again, oh well. It just makes a lot of sense for her to turn into a Despair out of paranoia - get them before they get you, y'know? But it's Miu, so her ego has to be involved somehow. It's a mix, then, she's afraid of everything, but also wants the world to acknowledge her genius and hotness, so if she has to blast some people into fractions, she will.

Korekiyo Shinguji

Listen he was like 16 in the game how tf he managed to not only kill almost 100 women, but also somehow not be caught. Bro isn't exactly the definition of subtle appearance-wise. He's supcious as hell, actually. And for that reason, again, sadly, in fact went into this direction, and so am I. I told you the author's takes were great.

Ryouma Hoshi

Aaaand in fact isn't over. It was awfully simple with him - he has nothing left to lose, so Junko gets him to care about her, and he doesn't care what happens to the rest of the world.

Kirumi Toujo

I'm not 100% sure about it, but I'm kind of vibing with that backstory of hers, that she once served somebody so well that person became unable to do their job, and her opting to do just that, because everybody else is fucking incompetent compared to her, and she deserves far more appreciation. She's resentful, and she'll smile and bow politely and ruin her employers' lives from the inside, showing them they're nothing in comparison.

Tsumugi Shirogane

She's a tricky one, but I can imagine Junko making her recognize her "true potential" or something. She's likely the one who idealizes Junko the most out of everybody, and I can see it as somewhat similar to the Mikan situation, which, oof. She gives Tsumugi all the attention she could possibly ask for, while for the rest of the world she might as well not exist, and she roams it in various costumes, doing whatever she pleases and avoiding responsibility. She's similar to Impostor in a way, but I'd say their difference is that Tsumugi can copy only some general stuff, mostly visually, so she can trick people into believing she's somebody else only for a little bit, while Impostor is so good they could live somebody's life for years and nobody would question it too hard unless they and the original were literally in the same room, and also Impostor can learn their skillsets. Anyway, I think at her core Tsumugi just feels worthless, so she becomes anything else for Junko, and when she's dead, her reason for being herself is gone, too - nobody cares about some Plain Jane, so she wants to become the next Junko to feel the void something something.

Kaito Momota

I'm really entertaining the idea of him just embracing the worst parts of himself - he believes himself to be the hero, the main character, the chosen one, and he requires others to recognize that. He pulls a vigilante, probably, but, as usual in Despair!V3, his view of who is and who isn't a criminal is skewed. But it doesn't matter, because he's never wrong in his judgement. He knows best who desevres or doesn't deserve to live, and he takes all the credit for putting the ones who don't into their grave.

Maki Harukawa

And who else does Kaito take the credit from if not the Ultimate Assassin herself? Ngl, they give me the vibe of Fuyuhiko and Peko. Kaito's the hero, and Maki's his sidekick, his weapon. Her hands can never be clean, but she can use them to make the world a better place by getting rid of all the filth. And she trusts Kaito's judgement, so if he tells her to kill somebody, they'll be dead.

*Kokichi Ouma

In fact gets the credit for making me realize things can be happening in the same universe, and also that V3 can be the ones responsible for what happens to him. Kokichi isn't a Remanant, he essentially takes Chiaki's role. He is by no means his class' hope, but he sure af won't let anybody touch them (well, an attempt was made). I've mentioned by Shuichi that best options would have been either to start with him or Kokichi, and yeah. Kokichi absolutelu could become Despair under the right circumstances, anybody could, but Junko made her choice, and while it was logical, it also meant Kokichi will not fall to her. He was recognized by HPA as the Ultimate Supreme Leader for a reason. Nobody touches his people and gets away with it (whoops, she did). Bro went through a Chiaki-style execution, except he reaches his class who weren't as friendly to him as Chiaki's would've been. By which I mean they toruterd him to near death. Like, I have specifically ideas for Kiibou burning his wrists, making the hand-shaped scars resemble cuffs (punishment for all the robophobia, Kiibou doesn't need the human laws to do things for him, he can judge crimes himself), Gonta knocking him out, bc he wanted Kokichi not to be awake to experience any of that, and at some point when Kokichi looks at Shuichi, Shuichi ends up stabbing him in the eye. RIP.

In the good route, both him and Chiaki survive, btw. Very long story would be that Chiaki, Nagito and Kokichi were friends in HPA, doing some investigating on Kamukura Project and Junko, and for Reasons Nagito was suspended for a while, so he wasn't there when Junko was getting to his classmates, blah blah, Kokichi tells him to go where his classmates went (Chiaki's execution place), bc he has to go after his own to safety or sth (even tells him about DICE in case something happens to him, bc he has a Plan, but no plan is 100% cerain to be succesful), so Nagito gets there when she's still alive if barely, Kamukura arrives, Nagito gets him to help Chiaki anyway. Kokichi's execution happens some time later, and Nagito and Chiaki find out and get to him when he's already like 90% in the grave & thanks to Kamukura he survives.

Bad route has them not get to Kokichi on time, and also at some point both Nagito and Chiak die, so they're both AIs in the simulation, long story.