#so im blasting through like one unit a day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silkscream · 2 years

Text

PISTOLWHIP | ii. i hate what this song is about

synopsis: peter parker is in love with his high school best friend, michelle jones, and you are in love with peter’s roommate, harry osborn. when mj and harry start dating, you and peter test your limits in a situation that “benefits” the both of you. how far will the two of you go to satisfy each others’ loneliness?

inspired by the anime kuzu no honkai.

genres: university au, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, fake dating, unrequited love

warnings: explicit content (18+), smut, alcohol usage

wc: 6.5k

a/n: chapter two song reference is cologne by beabadoobee. this reminds me of chapter five of sweetest kill (iykyk) so i apologize in advance. i love you all

series m.list / main m.list / join the taglist

harry osborn [12:31 am]

hey where are u and peter? he said he was gonna come get u

harry osborn [12:45 am]

yo we just went to the velvet stout but text me when ur there so i can fetch my beloveds

harry osborn [1:24 am]

u guys here yet or did u get murdered??????

harry osborn [1:50 am]

helloooooooooo

harry osborn [2:12 am]

help i think peter’s phone is dead and i lost my keys lol

ESU (erotic sluts united) [2:30 am]

harry osborn: GUYSSSSS. IM LOCKED OUT

mjones [2:35 am]

hey dude are you with peter?

Peter Parker isn’t the kind of person who leaves after a hookup. Intrinsically he doesn’t have the pride that would make him want to leave – he’d simply be too tired to think about making an escape while the other person is sleeping. It’s not like he knows the proper etiquette of a hookup that well regardless. What was the reason for sacrificing sleep by leaving in the middle of the night, anyway? He can deal with awkward morning small talk, nor does he mind treating his hookup to breakfast. Peter Parker is not a coward.

And yet, you wake up with your arms grasping for a body that isn’t there. How strange it feels to be empty in your queen-size bed again after getting so used to having another warm body beside you.

Peter Parker is not an asshole because he leaves you a note. One that’s scribbled hastily on a post-it note that he found in your desk drawer that reads, GTG, HARRY’S LOCKED OUT. TEXT ME WHEN YOU’RE UP.

It feels so fucking nonchalant that you feel shame in actually wanting to follow through with his request. Is it even a request? Does he really want you to text him? Because “text me when you’re up” can often be an empty message that lets the other person know that they care the barest minimum out of politeness. You’ve known Peter for long enough to perhaps gauge what he might be like in an intimate context, but now that you’re on the other end of it, you have no fucking idea what the norm is. So you crumple up the note in your palm, toss it into your wastebasket, and you try to breathe as best you can.

I slept with Peter Parker last night.

You ruminate about this statement over toast and a homemade matcha latte. Remnants of the night come back to you like vignettes and scrapbook clippings. The blurred image of an elbow. The sight of this boy who’s your friend who happens to be very talented at suckling on the tender spot on the inside of your thigh, which you now see has resulted in a purplish mark in the shape of a heart. By the time lunch comes, you can’t get the image of Peter’s body out of your head.

From the amount you drank last night, you had woken up thinking today was a Sunday, a day when you usually recharge and deep clean your apartment because that’s what the Korean vloggers you like on YouTube tend to do, and you’re just trying to survive your 20s in the neatest way possible.

But no. It’s fucking Friday.

And it’s nearly twenty minutes until your first class.

“Fuck,” you groan.

You’re too tired to keep the tension in your jaw, so you slacken and lean back in the plastic chair you’re sitting in, pausing the music blasting in your headphones to reassess your senses. You hear the bustling noises of the cafe. Your laptop screen taunts you, its blue light burning into your retinas. All the ice has melted in your brown sugar espresso latte, but you decide it tastes better that way.

Pulling out your phone from your pocket, you read your messages from last night once again, chuckling at the thought of Harry sleeping in the hallway of his apartment all because Peter happened to be sleeping in your room. You wonder what time he’d left. You wonder why he hasn’t texted you at all today.

Your finger hovers over his contact. It feels tempting to text him but you force yourself to lock your phone, frustrated by your newfound anxiety. You put your headphones on again and turn your volume as loud as you can handle, and you stare at your email inbox instead.

The door of the cafe opens and you briefly catch sight of a certain head of brown curls. It’s like the universe’s indifference is set out to taunt you, because despite you trying to get your mind off of Peter Parker, he happens to be the exact person who saunters in to take the seat directly across from you.

“Hey.”

You pretend not to hear him, instead scribbling in your notebook with a pen that’s about to die. You watch as the ink bleeds and runs thin, alternating based on how hard you push on the paper, and the boy’s voice drones on in the background. He repeats himself multiple times and you hold in your laughter as you ignore him until he taps on your nose with the pad of his finger. You wince.

“Are you ignoring me on purpose? That’s so mean,” he grumbles, his lips pouting like a child’s. It’s so adorable, the look on his face, that you want to kiss the grimace off of him. There’s an ounce of annoyance when you realize your adoration. You convince yourself that it’s just part of his charm.

“Hi, Peter.”

“I’m sorry for leaving before you woke up. Did you get my note?” he asks, his eyes slightly wider than usual. You notice his fidgeting.

“Yeah, I did. And I’m not actually mad at you or anything, I’m just messing.” He seems to appear relieved when you give him a teasing smile.

“Thank God. Otherwise, it’d be a rude awakening to find a girl giving me the silent treatment because I’m bad at sex or something.”

The comment makes you blush, so you duck your head slightly so that your laptop screen is covering the majority of your face. When Peter realizes you’re flustered, a grin creeps into his face.

“Why? Has that happened?” You raise your eyebrows in a taunting manner.

He stumbles over his words with some kind of excuse, ultimately deflecting the question.

“No. I mean, I don’t know. But I feel bad for leaving. Harry wasn’t even locked out by the time I got home. He wasn’t even home. And he hasn’t responded to my texts which is a little fucking troubling.”

“He’s definitely alive,” you murmur, scrolling through your phone. “He sent a meme in the group chat like an hour ago.”

“Great. I wonder which NYU student he was able to hook up with last night.”

“Does it matter? Let me guess. Hot and blonde. My money’s on a model, too,” you scoff bitterly. You toy with the hem of your sleeve and Peter notices the shift in your mood. Furrowing his brows, he takes your hand in his, massaging your slender fingers with the pads of his own.

“Should we… talk about last night…?” the brunette trails off as you shake your head.

“What about last night?” You play dumb. You’re rather good at it as well considering how much you hate confrontation.

“I just – I don’t wanna make things weird between us.”

“It doesn’t have to be weird. You’re my friend, Peter. I don’t regret it because I’m really comfortable with you,” you murmur slowly, watching his hands at work instead of the fixed gaze on his face. “Unless… you…?”

“No, no. I’m not uncomfortable with anything that happened at all. It was um, really good, actually. Better than I expected. Not like that was something I was planning on for a while! Or like, I didn’t have any expectations because I don’t usually just think about my friends in that way. But I’m not saying I haven’t thought about you in–”

Your attention is completely thrown off when your phone buzzes. Peter stops his babbling, rubbing his red-tinted face.

Caleb sent you a message

Caleb: Still on for drinks? 5 pm?

“Oh shit, I have a fucking date,” you groan, hurrying to gather your belongings while Peter watches you in perplexity.

“You– you do?” he exasperates.

“Yes, in like an hour. God, I haven’t even showered and I look like hell. I’ll see you later, okay Pete?”

You leave the cafe in such haste that Peter’s convinced that you disappeared the way cartoon characters vanish in little tornados. He wonders why the pit of his stomach is so much more present, and why his mouth feels so uncomfortably dry. The taste of you is still on his tongue.

Despite moving to New York City for school, you aren’t sure if you just haven’t adapted to the ways of New York men, or if you just happen to pick up the biggest losers on the planet. Scarfing down mozzarella sticks at the bar seems grotesque from the way that your date eyes you, so you take meager bites like a Victorian woman, sipping your cocktail with gentle, superficial elegance. It’s fucking ironic how your date’s judging you silently when he’d picked out a dive bar that seemed to be exclusively reserved for people who looked like they were rushing for Greek life.

He sits across from you with a look of slight boredom on his face, which is ironic considering you hadn’t been able to get a word into the conversation for the past fifteen minutes. Since your appetizer came, you had managed to mindlessly pick at your food while his voice drones on. You’ve got no idea what he’s talking about, nor do you care, until he pauses completely.

“Sorry, zoned out just a bit. Been a long day,” you apologize, attempting a feeble smile. “What was that?”

“I’ve been getting into crypto recently.”

You’re fucking joking.

You want to look at the audience right in the camera like in Fleabag, but your gaze of disgust naturally falls on the man in front of you, quickly turning up the corners of your mouth in a mock smile so that he can feel more comfortable. You don’t love to be palatable for men, but it often feels easier this way so that you can give your polite goodbyes at the end of the night and promptly unmatch the bastard. By the time you do that, you’re usually sinking in your bathtub with a glass of red to wash away the day entirely. You down the rest of your gin and juice like it’s a magic potion that might promise your escape.

You listen to him spout on about the mundanities of bitcoin, negative commentary on Elon Musk that you find yourself agreeing with until he mentions the billionaire’s “innovative projects that will help mankind’s conception of transportation as we know it”, and now your foot is tapping impatiently to the tune of “Tom’s Diner” playing over the speakers.

“Women like you are so fascinating. I feel like I keep dating girls that are kind of… airheads, you know? Always trying to please people, but you… you’re not afraid to be a little offputting and abrasive. I think that’s really cool,” Caleb recites as if he’s monologuing about the date within the confines of his journal instead of having a conversation with you. You imagine that he fucking loves Bukowski. Not to mention, he splits the bill because he’s “pretty much a feminist.” You kind of want to die at the moment.

Eventually, you decline his offer to walk you home while the words offputting and abrasive echo through your mind. You go through hoops wondering about the semantic variations of the statement, suddenly subconscious about your resting bitch face. Ultimately, if the dude thinks you’re a cunt, you accept it. You’ve unmatched him before you’re able to open the door of your apartment anyway.

peter parker [7:02 pm]

hey

i know you’re on that date but i just realized i left my wallet in your room. mind if i get it when you’re free?

you [7:05 pm]

come on over parker

peter parker [7:10 pm]

damn, quick date

you [7:12 pm]

yeah, turns out he had like four sets of eyes and wanted to drink my blood. not really my type

peter parker [7:13 pm]

or maybe you weren’t HIS type

you [7:14 pm]

gee thanks

peter parker [7:15 pm]

no i mean like BLOOD type

you [7:15 pm]

*crickets*

peter parker [7:16 pm]

okay jeez tough crowd

im omw

You wonder briefly if he’s lying, making excuses just to come over and see you alone, but you do happen to see his battered leather wallet on the floor of your bedroom. It’s torn and skinny, decorated in children’s Spider-Man stickers, containing nothing more than eleven bucks, a debit card, and a Metro Card that looks like it’s gone through hell. When you pick it up, a polaroid falls out. You don’t recognize when the image was taken, but it’s a candid of you, Harry, MJ, and Ned laughing in Central Park at night. How awfully tender of Peter to keep it in his wallet. So tender it’s making your heart a little sick.

Before you know it, there’s a knock on your door. When you open it, you catch a whiff of cologne, which you raise your brows at, but Peter doesn’t catch your gesture. He merely lets himself in and takes off his shoes, suggesting he’s here to stay instead of just stopping by.

“Hey, rabbit,” he chirps.

“Hey,” you blink. “Why do you always call me that?”

“Because you’re timid,” he shrugs. “Remember when I first made you go out with everyone? It took you so long to open up.”

“I’m just introverted. And I’m not nearly as shy as I was before!”

“Yeah, now you’re a menace,” he rolls his eyes, grinning.

You don’t know why your blood seems to heat up like you’re entering a sauna. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, and yet the mere presence of Peter Parker is something that you grow more attuned to, like you’re seeing him through a clearer set of glasses. You notice the veins on his hands and the freckles on his nose. He’s pretty. You almost tell him but you know that he’d never let you live it down.

You zone out with a glass of red wine in your hand, eyes fixed on your laptop screen but your mind going absolutely nowhere. Someone clears their throat in front of you. Your attention turns back to Peter, who takes a seat next to you on your kitchen island.

“We’re having a thing at ours tonight. You should come?”

“By ‘thing’, you mean getting wasted while Ned drunkenly tries to set up YouTube karaoke on the flatscreen?”

“Precisely,” Peter deadpans.

Awkward beat. Have you gotten worse at socializing with your best friend since you’d slept with him? A more glaring question: does Peter know you consider him your best friend?

“Who’s your best friend?”

“Ned,” he answers without a beat. You figured as such. “Why?”

“Are… are we best friends?” you ask curiously.

“I… yeah, I’d say so.”

“Cool.”

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. You imagine one slicing through the air like butter. You think briefly about those TikTok videos where things get cut into and you find out it’s cake.

“Is everything okay?” Peter murmurs. He’s treading on uncharted territory. He’s fought aliens and thieves and the police, and yet, asking you about your feelings right now is just a tad harder than all those things.

You look at him and you wonder if he’s about to cry or if the fluorescents are just making his eyes a little glossy. It doesn’t help that Peter always has a perpetual look of something on his face, pupils wide in either shock, wonder, admiration, or every emotion under the sun. If Peter Parker was anything, it was emotive. This made him a terrible liar.

“Yeah, everything’s good,” you say quietly.

“H-how was the date?”

You’re grateful that he changes the subject. You aren’t quite sure what you think of everything yet. If there was any more awkward silence you might’ve done the reckless thing and kissed Peter on the mouth. You reflect back on the horrid two hours you had at the dive bar and feel the irritation set lines in your face.

“Kind of terrible, and not even in an entertaining way. He was so far up his ass that I didn’t get any room to speak. Men think that women want to hear them talk on and on about their likes and dislikes like we’re fucking taking notes instead of just being normal fucking human beings and engaging in a genuine conversation. He also called me offputting. And abrasive! Am I fucking abrasive?” you seethe, groaning dramatically as you take a gulp of your wine.

Peter’s expression showcases his brows raised, his pink mouth curled up in a teasing smirk at your exasperation. You want to be annoyed because you just proved your Tinder date’s point, but you can’t help but laugh under Peter’s gaze. You feel relaxed again when he smiles.

“No offense, but you kind of have terrible taste in men.”

“That’s no way to talk about your good friend and roommate.”

“Harry’s great,” Peter defends, shrugging. “He’s also just a fucking idiot. You could do better.”

You frown, chewing on your lip. You wonder what Peter means by that.

“You really think that?”

“Of course. But he’d be lucky to have you, too.”

You acknowledge his statement for a moment, repeating it in your head. You can barely picture yourself with Harry, you realize, and that thought alone was incredibly depressing to you. The strange spark between you and Peter was also a difficult thing to ignore. Biting the inside of your lip, you contemplate.

“What if– what if we kept going with this?” you mumble.

“With…”

You make a wild gesture with your hands, waving them around vaguely. Peter watches the way your throat contracts when you loudly sigh. He smiles at the sight of you flustered. He thinks about a few other ways he could rile you up.

“This. You know. We’re young, hormonal, and we both have unrequited crushes. It feels nice to have that… physical release,” you admit. Your eyes are closed when you say it. As if looking into Peter’s face makes it real. “And, like, I– I trust you, I guess, and we’re pretty compatible–”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I’m down,” Peter shrugs.

“I didn’t realize casual sex was such a nonchalant thing with you,” you narrow your eyes.

“How do you want me to react? With disgust? Also, I think it’s cute how much you’re struggling to tell me that you had a good time last night. I was watching your face do mental gymnastics.”

Your brows are furrowed at Peter’s casual demeanor, and you hate how embarrassed you feel for this arrangement even if it’s what you want. You suppose you haven’t done anything like this before, especially not with someone so close to you. And here Peter is, watching you emotionally flail around while he leans on your kitchen counter looking completely entertained.

Without a warning, your mouth is on his and he grips the back of your head naturally with his large hands, and soon enough, they’re snaked around your waist. His lips are soft and moving with yours like a blooming flower. You want to blame the buzz in your head on the alcohol but you know it’s because of the boy holding you right now. You nibble on his lip slightly before pulling back.

“Sorry, that was really abrupt,” you whisper, eyes raking over the roseate blush adorning Peter’s cheeks.

“No worries. Sometimes messy is kind of hot,” he breathes.

“How’d you like it?”

“I think the answer to that is obvious,” Peter replies, the lower register of his voice coming out between a rasp and a chuckle as he adjusts his lower half.

“Okay, yeah, this works,” you nod.

“Wait, did you just kiss me to confirm this like a business deal?”

“No, I just… wanted to make sure. And I am sure.”

Peter swallows thickly and looks you up and down. He resists the urge to take a finger to a loose strand of your hair that’s fallen over your collarbone. He isn’t sure how casual this was supposed to be – when he was comfortable with someone, one could describe him as touchy, and you were… unprecedented. The fact that he even slept with you makes something reel in Peter’s mind like he’d uncovered something secret. He looks at your mouth. He wants to kiss it again.

Before he can get an inch closer to your frame, you both jump at the sound of his phone ringing. You notice the clench of his jaw when he picks it up.

“Hey, man. Nothing, just at Y/N’s.” He grimaces.

“Okay, yeah, I know. No, yeah, we’ll be there soon. Don’t blackout at the pregame, Oz.”

“What’s up?” you quip, sucking air through your teeth.

“As much as I want to continue this further, the prince is awaiting our arrival.”

You, a glass bottle of Icelandic vodka, and the passing glances of Peter Parker are a rather maladjusted trio throughout the night at the Osborn manor. Harry likes to call it that because the ceilings are still ornate from when a previous tenant, some rumored duchess slash witch, had the apartment renovated during the 1950s. MJ likes to threaten Harry with the possibility of the witch’s ghost coming to haunt everyone in the room if they don’t hand her the aux.

In defense of Harry and Betty’s belligerent drunkenness and shared brain cell, you’re thankful that neither of them has yet to propose a game that would involve chugging any satanic concoctions (the glistening green bottle of Jagermeister keeps taunting you) or shooting a roulette of who would be blessed to make out with them.

At the moment, MJ and Ned are arguing about whether to put on a video game or karaoke, while you stare at the flatscreen as one of the Scream movies plays. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up when you feel a figure plop down next to you, a bony hand resting on your knee. It’s weird how you automatically expect it to be Peter. It’s weirder when you realize it’s actually Harry.

He clicks his tongue, watching the TV with you for a moment before meeting your gaze and flashing his pearly whites in a wolf smile.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” he muses.

“I’m trying to drink slow. I’m in Grandma mode. Spent my pregame at a shitty bar with a shitty Tinder date and then drowning my sorrows with Peter,” you smile casually, gnawing on your lip when you feel Harry stretch his arm to lay on the back of the couch behind you.

“Aww, lighten up, chicken. Fucker’s missing out.”

From the kitchen, Peter’s pouring himself another shot, watching as Harry gets closer to you. He frowns for no reason that he can admit to himself other than the acidity currently burning his throat.

“Y/N! Puh-lease do a Taylor Swift duet with me!” Betty screeches, lighting up the room like the Energizer Bunny.

“Oh, here we fucking go,” Michelle mumbles.

“You like Taylor Swift,” the blonde shoves her gently with a teasing smile on her face. Michelle reciprocates one that’s shamelessly plastic.

“Okay, fine, but not ‘All Too Well.’ I beg of you.”

Within the whirlwind of a few seconds – since when did the boys own a spinning disco lamp? – you’re caught in the middle of the living room as the speakers blast “Blank Space.” For some reason, there’s a glorious revelation you have that could be blamed on the vodka and Betty Brant’s infectious energy, but your chest fills with something warm when you notice your friends cheering the two of you on. Your voice cracks into a giggle when you see Harry filming you with flash on his phone, to which you nearly climb on top of him to snatch the evidence. You slightly fall towards Peter, who’s watching you with equal amusement.

“So hey, let’s be friends, I’m dying to see how this one ends,” you sing into the microphone, towering over Peter on the couch. You brush off the tiny stumble that nearly causes you to fall into his lap. A quick hand to the small of your back sends a shiver down your spine.

“SO IT’S GONNA BE FOREVER… OR IT’S GONNA GO DOWN IN FLAMES!”

“Betty, not on the coffee table, please!”

“Boys… only… want… love… if it’s—” The blonde makes a noise that sounds close to a retch. Or a burp. Either way, the horror that slowly creeps up on everyone’s faces is borderline comical.

“Don’t say I didn’t, say I didn’t, warn ya!” you sing, exploding in a fit of laughter along with Harry and Peter as Ned picks up Betty over his shoulder and makes beeline for the bathroom.

“Ned, hold her hair back!” MJ seethes.

“Dude, did you give her the Jager?” Harry asks Peter incredulously.

“Yeah, mixed with like, Sprite or something…”

“You know how she gets!”

“I thought you meant to make sure she doesn’t have too much.”

Violent retching echoes from the bathroom down the hall. You feel like you’re on an episode of reality television.

“I love her so much,” you murmur, cradling the bottle of vodka like a newborn baby. “She’s like a sorority girl.”

You hold your hands up in surrender when the boys look at you like you have three heads.

You weren’t much of a partier, nowhere near to what your friends were like, which is why it isn’t unusual for you to simply fall asleep at the function. When you blink awake, your eyes squint as you adjust your blurry vision to the coffee table scattered with empty glasses and cans. What alarms you is the sound of high-pitched hissing, causing you to jolt up.

The hissing stops as you hear the sound of a knob cranking. A kettle.

Peter emerges from the kitchen with a mug of tea in hand. You can’t help but look him up in down, cheeks warming as you notice the tight fit of his black t-shirt and the fact that he’s in a pair of Calvins.

“Oh, hey, you’re up.”

“What time is it?” you mumble, tucking your legs into your arms as you blink up at the brunette.

“Almost two. Do you wanna crash here or should I call you an Uber?”

“Where’d everyone go?”

“Ned and Betty went home. Then we started watching Shrek, but MJ and Harry wanted to go to bed. You fell asleep during the movie.”

“MJ and Harry,” you echo. Your confused expression meets Peter’s defeated one. “Are they…”

“Dunno. It’s funny, she usually hates sleeping in other people’s beds,” Peter shrugs, the look of disdain on his face fading into a quiet melancholy.

You feel like you’re in a dream sequence. Your stomach aches with nausea. You hate the way how heavy your head feels and how eerily still and uncomfortable the atmosphere is. Even the mild exhale of your breath feels too loud. There’s a sudden need to leave, retreat into a fetal position, or burrow into a hole like a small animal. There’s also that strange glow, a gravitational pull that you’re trying to ignore between your body and Peter’s.

Eventually graduating towards your nightly ritual, you wordlessly leave to go to the bathroom to rinse the makeup off your face and brush your teeth with the pad of your finger. Like hell were you going to be left alone in your apartment at two in the morning right now. When you turn to shut the light off, you hear the hint of a voice or a murmur. The ghost of a hushed whisper, and then a grunt. You take a step forward and glance at Harry’s closed door. Your eyes widen.

Quickly, you speedwalk as quietly as you can back to Peter in the living room. He looks up from his mug of tea with a puzzled expression on his face. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

“Let’s watch a movie,” you relay to Peter, your voice monotonous and your figure slumped. He wonders about your change in temperament because within the three minutes you were gone, you somehow came back looking more distraught and dismal. He has the urge to do something to lighten your mood but he doesn’t know what, and he realizes how much he wants to touch you, to hold your face in his hands. The somber look on your face makes his stomach sink.

“Okay?” he frowns, eyebrows pinching together in worry in reaction to your despondence. He doesn’t bother to pry and follows you to his bedroom.

You’re quick to discard your clothes with your back turned from Peter’s prying eyes, which you can feel burning into your shoulder blades. He’d seen you naked before, so you don’t know why you feel a certain heat permeating your body. Quickly, you put on a pair of his boxers and an oversized hoodie.

“What do you want to watch?” he mumbles, attempting to distract himself away from your figure and onto his laptop screen.

“Anything. Star Wars?” you shrug.

“You’re voluntarily suggesting we watch Star Wars?” he raises an eyebrow.

“I could’ve said something way more violent considering what I’m feeling,” you mutter darkly, rushing through your words.

“Why are you–” A thump. The sound of a squeaking bedframe reverberates from the other side of the wall. Peter blinks with understanding.

He settles on The Force Awakens, even though he thinks it’s the worst one for ripping off the plot of Episode Four, but you liked it enough to be fixated for a good two weeks when you were a teenager. It’s comforting. You need all the comfort you can get right now.

You’re grateful when you lean into Peter’s shoulder, embracing his warmth as he gets closer to you. It feels as easy as breathing. You don’t notice the way he’s peering at you, the blue light of his laptop dancing around your features as you watch the movie with a cat-like stare.

Peter’s seen this movie too many times, but he didn’t want to argue with you about picking another movie at this hour of the night. He didn’t even really want to watch a movie at all, but suggesting another activity while he was alone with you made him feel like he was treading on dangerous waters. Even despite the agreement the two of you had made earlier, it felt wrong to engage in it and make it such a recurring proclivity already. Not when you’re sulking in his bed and trying your best to get your mind off of the boy in the next room.

Peter thinks that maybe he should be just as upset as you, but ultimately, he feels kind of numb. Michelle is his best friend, and despite his years of pining, she is so herself that Peter doesn’t want to make a dent in the glass bubble she stays in; he just wants to polish it and make it all pretty for her. And then there was Harry, whose charisma he’d always admired since the day he met him, and he doesn’t feel contempt thinking about Harry being with Michelle. He doesn’t feel angry. But he does feel… disappointment.

The expression on your face is pallid. Smudged eyeliner adorns your bottom lash line – you weren’t the most thorough when you’d washed your face – which gives you the appearance of a worn, cool-girl punk rocker, lips sewed together in a permanent pout. Peter blinks at the curve of your lips. He craves them, wanting desperately to close the gap.

A twinge of guilt. He chooses not to.

Instead, he shifts closer to you in his bed and rests his hand in between your bodies nonchalantly. His fingers land on the curve of your hip and rubs circles into the skin. You turn to look at him and he gulps, wondering what gears are turning in your head and what they might mean. He doesn’t expect you to give in first.

A rough kiss to the mouth and the laptop slides off of Peter’s lap. He discards it, kicking it gently towards the foot of the bed. You attempt to catch your breath when he hovers over you, straddling your body as his hands roam your lower half. His fingers trail from your hip down to your inner thigh. God, you’re so embarrassingly wet and it’s only been two minutes.

Your gasp expels from your mouth and into his. His hand tucks itself under the waistband of your – his – boxers to circle the pad of his finger to your clit. He pulls back from kissing you so that he can watch your face shift in tandem with bouts of pleasure, your sweet sighs hanging in the air. His jaw drops slightly at the sight of you taking off your hoodie, only clad in his boxers.

“You should wear my underwear more often, you look really hot,” he murmurs, the low register of his voice resembling a purr.

You grin in response. You’re eager to tug his sweatpants down to his ankles, smirking in delight when you’ve got him exposed. He blushes profusely.

“Someone’s happy.”

“You are making this so hard,” he grumbles under his breath.

“Oh, I’m definitely making something hard,” you giggle. Before you can come up with another comeback, he shuts you up with a kiss and proceeds to rub your clit. The act elicits a moan that’s a bit too loud for your liking, but when you feel the need to keep in, you think about the next room out of spite. It feels evil. But then again, you think you deserve to get off after the shit day you had.

Peter feels like he’s been kissing you for a decade straight, and the ache in his stomach reminds him that his body begs for your touch. He caresses the slope of your jaw, then your nose with the pad of his finger as if verifying that you’re real. When he reaches the corner of your mouth, you take his digits onto your tongue and suck.

“Fuck,” Peter breathes. You’re more than delighted to hear his reaction to your actions, but you’re too impatient to let this drag out for another minute. As is he, even if he does want to watch you suck on his fingers for the rest of his life.

Two fingers tease the folds of your pussy before sliding in – the way his fingers stretch you out feels like heaven. He glazes over your sweet spot, rubbing gently. You feel slightly flustered at the fact that you’re so, so fucking close, and from your mental timekeeping, it’s been… what? Less than ten minutes?

“Just… fuck,” you hiss, taking the effort to switch positions with Peter. You straddle him to gain dominance and take pleasure in pulling off his t-shirt, clawing at him desperately.

Peter thinks briefly about how his hands don’t feel connected to his brain, because his senses and his body are so attuned to you that he wants to touch every crevice of you – it feels primal, natural. When he hears you beg, he thinks he might combust.

“Fuck, fuck me,” you gasp. “Please, please.”

“Okay,” Peter breathes, being as gentle as possible in the way he grips your hips and slips inside of you. He’s encouraged by the way you moan at the impact, your face warm to the touch as you screw your eyes shut and pull your arms around the boy.

“Faster, faster” comes out of your mouth like a mantra. You can’t think of anything else except Peter’s body slamming into yours and how the color of his eyes would look lovely under the sunrise.

He buries his face into your neck, the desperate groans from his mouth to kiss your jaw. Peter grits his teeth in an attempt to be quieter, but the way that he thrusts in and out from your cunt makes him feel like he’s seeing stars to the point where he can’t even grasp how loud he might be. All he knows is that he wants to swallow up your moans with his tongue in your mouth, and he’s desperate to make you cum around his cock.

Flipping you onto your back, he circles his finger on your bud as he rams into you with a pace that’s unrelenting. You suspend all of your beliefs – you think that you can sink into his bed like it’s the ocean and disappear once he’s done with you.

You know this because he’s about to finish, and he’s looking you straight in the eye, and for a brief moment, he wonders if it’s as real for you as it is for him. Peter is your best friend, you think, but when you linger on the thought for too long, you feel shameful with paranoia that he agreed to sleep with you out of pity. In reality, Peter is so enamored that the more he sees of you, the more he’s convinced you aren’t real. He wants you to know but he can’t get the words off his tongue.

“Gonna cum,” you whisper. Your eyes are closed.

“Hey, look at me,” Peter murmurs after taking his face out of the hollow of your neck. You’re too afraid to open your eyes. He knows this. And yet, he’s able to coax you out of the fantasy. You’re looking right at his dark brown eyes, appearing almost black in the dimness of his bedroom, but the upturned smile on his features and the light dancing around his pupils make you want to cry in the most wholesome way possible.

“I’m… I’m gonna–”

“Yes, fuck, feel so good around me…”

You forget to tell him when you cum, but he knows exactly when you do. It’s when your body shakes right under him, small hands grasping at the shoulders of his back as if you’re trying to take ahold of his wings. He looks upon you in awe through your orgasm, your eyes shut with your mouth agape in pink bliss. God, you’re so fucking pretty. He wishes he could let you know in a way that lets you see yourself exactly as he does.

After your highs have dipped over the peak of your orgasms, the two of you lay in silence with only your breaths filling the air. You mentally trace the slope of Peter’s slightly crooked nose over and over until you can close your eyes and envision nothing.

You fall asleep first. Peter is up an extra hour or two because of the different ways he imagines your face, the way you talk, and if he’s going to ruin you for other people. He knows this is temporary but he has trouble thinking about you with anyone else.

i. ykwim? ← / → iii. saying your names

tags: @venomsilk @silkholland @g3org1al33 @nocturnalms @edgycatx @sleepingdancer @bluebearxy @marshmellowyellow @hoe-4-sebstan @evanpetersisreallyhot @ronweasleyslut @takenbyheartstrings @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @sinisterspidey @she-wintersoldat @freeshavocadoooo @moonyslantsov @lowkey-holland @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @runawaywithmyghost @mischeifparker @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @letssee2468 @arlo-sanders @adayasgeorgia @spookiespoons @iloveboobs3000 @vigilanteswife @theglitterymess @babyfezco @4ndreaaa @agustdee @trvlllx @mayal0pez @yourlocalomlette @wisdomcrys @sapphosdilemma @juliatpwk @starksview @noemiix1 @lmnp89 @marohares @pure-a-tea @allazay101 @pixiehollands @babyspiders @ellesalazar @honeyspidey @dark-night-sky-99 @spideyspeaches

#peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #tom holland smut #spiderman x you #marvel smut #uni!peter #tshwritersnet

655 notes · View notes

mostlymaudlin · 3 years

Text

not only am i chilled out and ready to share today but im FIRST and im gonna tag so many people that its going under a cut at the end lmfao.

this unedited bit is from something new and little that will probably go out around EGF. its a lot, because i think as a unit it is very funny, but also it can make up for what i havent been sharing lately lol. even steven.

America’s not so bad, really. And to be fair to Omaha, I had fun the first time I was here too. (Until the vampires.) (But even that was kind of hot. Figuratively, but also literally. Baz was throwing flames.)

After the last few days, I’m officially ready to establish myself as an Omaha-loving person. After all, it’s the birthplace of Love. (Shepard Love). We’re on the way home from a bonfire party held by a childhood friend of Shep’s, and I feel warmed through. From the dancing and the good food and the beer. Mostly from the beer, probably. Not even Baz’s cool skin could bring my temperature down right now. I feel like I might go off, but in a good way. (“Go off!” Shepard’s friend had shouted at me while I was dancing earlier. Baz said she was probably making fun of me, but that’s fine. It was fun. It made me laugh. I like dancing.)

I especially like it when Baz gets tipsy enough to dance with me, like he did tonight. He started by forcing me to waltz along to a Drake song, proper hand holding and proper steps that I mucked up by making us giggle too much. It wasn’t long before I gave up, pulling him against me and moving our hips to the rhythm the way it was intended. I’m grateful it was a snogging type of party. There’s nothing more awkward than being the couple that snogs when no one else is snogging. (I dare anyone to not be the person that snogs their boyfriend at inappropriate times when your boyfriend looks like Baz.) But everyone was snogging. Everyone was trashed. And I mean everyone — that’s how we’ve ended up with Penny, who doesn’t drink and barely drives, nervous behind the wheel of Shepard’s friend’s minivan, which is full of entirely too many people.

That’s how I’ve ended up in the trunk, half in Baz’s lap. Penny hooks her phone up to the aux and blasts One Direction.

“It’s the only way I’ll be able to focus,” she yells to us all. Nobody complains. She’s our savior tonight. I’m so thankful for her and her fierce determination and her comforting sober-ness. She deserves to be pampered tomorrow. I’m going to take her to WalMart. She loves a superstore — the variety, the culture, the Subway. I’m going to make Baz come too, so she can observe Baz in a WalMart again. One of life’s many joys.

low pressure tags for six sentences/sketches and also im just waving to u and blowing kisses:

@palimpsessed @whatevertheweather @fatalfangirl @otherworldsivelivedin @captain-aralias @johnwgrey @urban-sith @theotherhufflepuff @stardustasincocaine @tea-brigade @confused-bi-queer @bookish-bogwitch @prettylightsbigcity @forabeatofadrum @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @facewithoutheart @martsonmars @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists @sillyunicorn @excalisbury @takitalks @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @papercut271 @shemakesmeforget @stillmadaboutpetra @wetheformidables @moodandmist @carryonmylovelies @wellbelesbian @ivelovedhimthroughworse @unseelieseelie @snowybank @seducing-a-vampire @angelsfalling16 @im-gettingby @nick-eyre @aristocratic-otter @bloodiedpixie @caitybug @krisrix @foolofabookwyrm @louvsona @tbasilpitch @excalisbury @knitbelove @samalander01

#my writing

91 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Vampire Chris drunk on blood?

CW: Drunkenness, drug addiction, blood drinking, vampirism, creepy abusive comfort, WWI-period-appropriate xenophobia and brief vague possible homophobia reference, dehumanization, war whump

"Now, that'll get you blotto faster'n French liquor," Kirk says, sinking back against the muddy trench wall, careless for the dirt caking itself into the hair at the nape of his neck.

His helmet lay beside him upside down on the ground, and his brown hair was free to explode in its wealth of curls, a kind of halo around his head. He had one arm out, sleeve rolled back. His hands were caked in mud and smeared with drying dirt - above the line of his sleeve, though, the skin was paper-white, almost clammy.

It was this white skin that the vampire's fangs were buried in.

"Shit, Holden, y'gotta have 'im bite you, too." Kirk's grin widens. The shells had gone silent but every man flinches, now and then, hearing a phantom sound or feeling a rumble beneath their feet.

At least it's finally stopped goddamn raining.

The venom rolls through Kirk's veins, soothing his jangled nerves. He can barely feel the trembling in his hands and it feels like his mind, when it's in him. He's a farm kid from western Nebraska, the second son and not needed so much as the first to bring the crops in. So here he is, learning to love the feeling of teeth in his skin.

Maybe when he gets shipped back home he'll stick to the cities. They say the vampires have their dens there, where they can hide. You can buy venom enough to quiet your mind for a day or two, the city boys tell him.

They're in it as deep as he is, now.

Feels like half the American army is itching for venom these days.

"No thank you. I'm not gonna get sent home and start chasing fangs like the rest of you." Holden squints, looking up into the dark sky, the rolling clouds that seem far too close to the ground. "It'll rain again soon."

"When isn't it going to rain again soon? Oh, right, when it's already bloody raining." That's a Brit, they just call him Tommy. No one knows his real name.

He claims to hate them all, but since half his unit was blasted apart two days ago, he's hung with the 'Yanks' close enough. Kirk thinks he's fond of them, even if he won't admit it. Or just scared to be alone. He can understand that. He's terrified of the thought himself. "Shove the little vamp over to me, Kirk, I want some."

The vampire pulls his fangs free, licking over the wounds he's made until they close. He's a skinny little thing, pale as paper with bright red hair they stuff under his helmet when he's running medic checks in No Man's Land, trying to make him less obvious. Sure, he can't die from gas, but he can be blown to bits by a whizz-bang fast as any living soldier can.

"Please," The vampire says, turning big green eyes up to Kirk. "I, I, I'm tired, please, can I sleep?"

He's got heavy dark circles under his eyes. It's kind of cute.

"No," Kirk answers, curt, shoving the vampire away by his head, watching him fall into the mud. His uniform is marked with it, now, a dab of dirt over the 'V' sewn next to his medic's cross. There's a satisfaction, in Kirk, just in seeing the little thing laid low.

He won't die in this war, and Kirk probably will, but before that happens he can at least hurt something he can see. You can't see old Fritz when you fire on him from a distance - but you can see a vampire flinch in the dirt. It's not much.

It's something.

"Must be daytime," Holden speaks up, still staring up at the clouds. "You can't tell, weather like this, but if the fangs're tryin' to sleep, must be day."

"He sleeps when we're done with him, and not a moment before." Kirk's voice is a murmur, eyes half-closed. He's drifting in it, the way the venom dulls and deadens the eternal ache in his back and legs. The Germans could come roaring over the bags right this second and Kirk wouldn't give a damn at all. Let them kill him, at least he can go with venom in his veins, not as a basket case carried off the field. "Not a second before. Go on, bloodsucker. Get over to Tommy and help him get some shut-eye, huh?"

"I've been drinking all night, pulled some rations off someone," Tommy groans, rubbing his fingers at his temples. "It's done no good at all." It's a funny little gesture, so oddly normal and casual. Reminds Kirk of home.

His throat tries to close, homesickness bowling him over. The wish to return to his mother's worn smile, sit down to dinner and have her ask him about his day, when his problems revolved around the harvest and the hard backs of the pews in church-

He takes a breath, forcing it back, and gives the vampire a vicious kick in the ribs, listening to his high-pitched cry and how he curls around himself with a smile of his own.

Oh, he'll die, probably. The others from his town already have. But he can remind himself he's still alive, for now. One way or another. He can cause pain he can't feel himself, for once.

"I said get over to Tommy and smooth out his sharp bits, bloodfuck."

"Yes, um, y-yes, Kirk," The vampire says, pulling himself onto his hands and knees. His fingers are smashed into the mud deep enough to nearly disappear. If they could only get a few days of sunlight to dry out all this dirt, it wouldn't be such hell.

As it is, his socks've been damp for weeks, his boots feel like they're caging his feet in a swamp. He's worried about trenchfoot and trying not to think about it. He stole these boots off a dead German when his own started to fall apart, anyway.

He could've probably gotten new ones, but... it had felt good, taking something from Fritz after Fritz took so much from him.

Kirk tries not to remember that the German soldiers he fights have never caused him a single moment's harm on purpose. They're only fighting for the same reasons he is - because someone higher up who doesn't give a damn about them said to.

Kirk had been all gung-ho for the war until he'd been sent over here to fight it. All those articles in the newspapers, all the speeches given by men standing in town squares... it had all made it seem so patriotic.

They never tell you, Kirk thinks bitterly, that you'll be sent into a slaughterhouse. They don't tell you you'll spend your day breaking a vampire's fingers one by one just to watch them heal back into place and listen to his little cries.

Just to pass the time.

"Trade me your flask while the fangs takes care of you," Kirk says, and Tommy hands it over easy enough.

He watches Tommy grab the vampire by one arm and yank him over, vicious and violent, making the vampire boy cry out again. The sound is starting to grate on Kirk's nerves. It makes him sound too human. He hates being reminded that every vampire used to be a person.

He drinks whatever's in the Brit's flask, and it burns down his throat just the way he needs it to. Wipes out his worries, relaxes shoulders that seem always to be tensed up nearly to his chin.

His mama's a teetotaler, back in Nebraska. He'd been one, too, until the first bombardment. Now he drinks anything he could get his hands on, and the officers mostly looked the other way.

"Bite," Tommy orders. Kirk raises his eyebrows when Tommy doesn't roll up his sleeve but pushes the vampire's face instead towards his neck, turning his head to the side to bare it.

His eyes meet Kirk's, and he smiles, bitterly. "Works faster this way," He explains. Kirk just watches as the vampire's fangs glint in the eternal dim twilight, hesitating before they bury themselves in Tommy's skin.

The little monster's back arches, pressing them chest-to-chest. A low rumble comes from somewhere deep inside, the animal sound the vampire makes during a good feed. He doesn't do it much with the regular unit any longer, they mocked him for it and one day he stopped.

The vampire's throat works as he drinks, and Tommy's arm slides around the monster's thin shoulders, forcing him closer. He's nearly kissing his forehead, this way.

It's an embrace, and altogether more intimate of one than Kirk thought he'd ever see from the cold, standoffish Brit. He feels a blush creeping up his neck and his cheeks as Tommy lets his head fall back, groaning softly in a kind of contentment as the venom hits. The sound isn't quite like a groan at all, it's more like-

"Fucking hell, Tommy, are you an invert?"

"Invert suggests I give a damn what bites me," Tommy replies, without opening his eyes. His slurred speech deepens, goes slow. His hand curves around the vampire's shoulder, holding him tightly. "I'm after oblivion, lads. I don't care what parts the fangs have that give it to me."

"Fang-chaser," Holden says, good-naturedly. Clearly not bothered the way Kirk is. Maybe that's just his farmboy past talking, that he's even unsettled at all. Maybe Tommy's got a point - who cares what's between a vampire's legs if you're only interested in the damn thing's mouth in the first place? "Fucking fang-chaser, that's what you are. End up in a den getting your hips bit like Oscar Wilde."

"Who's Oscar Wilde?"

Holden laughs. "You should try reading a book or three sometime, Kirk."

"Sure, sure, whenever I get the damn time in-between running over this blasted nothing. In any case, Tommy's definitely a fang-chaser."

"Guilty as charged... just like you two." Tommy's hand slides up into the vampire's hair, gripping tight and gently pulling backwards. The vampire's fangs slide free, and it laps at the wounds, rapidly. Tommy groans again. Kirk finds himself unable to look away at the bob of Tommy's throat. How good does it feel, in the neck? He's never thought to try it. He thinks about it now. "Turn me in to face discipline for unnatural relations with the fangs and I'll do the same to you."

"Yeah, yeah, we got it. Fucking Limey bastard." There's no real animosity in Kirk's voice. He's too distracted, drunkenly considering the vampire boy's mouth. Wondering if he knows how to kiss. "You shared your liquor, I shared our bloodsucker, we're both of us in it to our necks."

"Not me," Holden says, innocent and pure as the driven snow. As if he weren't the one to give Kirk the idea to use the venom in the first place.

Kirk throws a clot of mud at him, which he dodges, laughing. They're all laughing, soon enough, except for the fangs.

The vampire lays there, his head pressed to Tommy's chest and forcibly held in place by his arm. His eyes are slightly wide, unfocused, and Kirk leans forward.

"What's this, then? What'd you do to the fangs, Tommy?"

"Hm? Nothing. Oh, I'm pissed as can be, do they feel the liquor in your blood?"

"I'm guessing they sure do. You drunk, fangs?"

The vampire's eyes drift over to Kirk, move too far to one side, come back again. He swallows, thickly. "I... I think I, I, I am," He says, and tries to push back against Tommy's chest, to free himself.

The Brit's arm crushes him back into place, his other hand moving up to run through the vampire boy's dirt red hair, petting him like one of the ambulance dogs. Kirk and Holden laugh at the vampire's weakness. "Stay right where you are," Tommy murmurs. "Or I'll run you through with my bayonet and let you squirm all day."

"Christ," Kirk says, blinking. "That's a bit rough, isn't it?"

"He's not alive, what does it matter?" Tommy lets out a bitter little laugh. "Might as well get a preview of our own ends, shouldn't we?"

"You two, maybe." Holden crawls into the dugout, the little bed-space, a kind of cave dug in underneath the upper layers of the trench. He lays down on his back, closing his eyes, hands behind his head. "I'm going to go back home and never think of you lot ever again."

"I pray every night to make it home," Kirk says, nodding along. "Not sure anyone's listening, but I got to try, don't I?"

"What happens to the fangs, anyway?" The Brit looks up, rocking a little back and forth. As if the bloodsucker were a baby needing soothing. The vampire boy has relaxed against him, the liquor-laced blood he drank lulling him into a complacent bonelessness. Kirk watches the vampire boy's fingers start to tap over the Brit's chest, a strange movement he's seen the boy do before in his few relaxed moments between the scream of the shells. He hums, low in his throat, tuneless.

"Huh?" Kirk blinks. "What d'you mean, what happens to him?"

"After the war's done. What are they gonna do with the bloodsuckers? Can't exactly pin a bloody ribbon for valor on them and send them on their way, now can they?"

"Nope. I don't know what happens. Maybe they'll just stake them all and have done with them."

The vampire shudders, giving a little whimper. Tommy leans down, lips moving against the vampire's hair. "Ssssshhhh. Not to worry, little fangs. War's not over just yet, now is it?"

"N-... no. Not, not, not, not yet." The vampire's eyes close, pink-tinged tears creating pale tracks in his dirty face. He's a sad drunk, then, Kirk figures.

Aren't they all, these days.

"Maybe you'll outlive us all, and make fools of us for keeping you." Tommy speaks with a patronizing affection, as mocking as it is tender, petting through the creature's hair still. It's... unsettling to watch. Kirk had figured the Brits and French probably killed all their vamps, since they were all disturbed by the sight of the vampire medics when the doughboys first arrived in Europe.

This, though... this makes it seem like Tommy's known a vampire or two himself, in his life. And he's sure as fuck not unfamiliar to what venom is good for outside of giving relief from agony to the injured.

Kirk frowns, thoughtful.

He's turned into a thoughtful drunk, too, thanks to this goddamn war. Sad and thoughtful. What a fucking waste.

"Sleep," Tommy says, almost gently, to the drunk little vampire. "I've got you. Sleep, little one."

The vampire's eyes slip closed. He doesn't breathe - there's no sense of his chest rising and falling. Kirk has to look away before the sense of wrongness, watching Tommy cuddle a corpse, makes him sick.

He takes a long, long draught from the flask, and relishes the burn that reminds him he's human, and alive.

His own eyes slip shut, and he prays for an hour or two of sleep before the next screaming shell bursts overhead.

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @pretty-face-breaker @endless-whump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

136 notes · View notes

cowboymirio · 4 years

Text

They Want To Get A Pet - Headcanons

Summary: Your S/O wants a pet and adorable antics ensue~

Characters: Hizashi Yamada, Taishiro Toyomitsu, Aizawa Shouta, Eijiro Kirishima, Tenya Iida, Hanta Sero, Takami Keigo

Contains: Gender neutral reader, lotsa fluff, Reader has arachnophobia in Sero’s part! Crackheadery in Aizawa’s part

Hizashi Yamada - Cockatoo

📣 You guys totally didn’t plan on getting a cockatoo, or any pet for that matter. Y’all just moved into your new place for christ’s sake!

📣 But after a visit to a lil exotic pet store downtown, your plans changed. And now you’re stuck with a bird with the intelligence of a toddler

📣 According to Yama, the bird just ‘called to him’ and by that, he means the bird literally screamed at him

📣 They’ve got the most bougie cage ever like MTV cribs hit them up.

📣But he doesn’t spend too much time in there as you guys let him roam around the house all day until it’s time for bed or if you leave for a while

📣 If they’re not attached to Yama’s shoulder, you often find them waddling around the house, picking things up off of the floor and throwing them, and squawking at you when they want attention

📣 Sounds like someone else you know huh…

📣 Yama and the bird dance together so much omg. They do the lil head bobs together, he’ll blast some music for them and they go to town he even chirps along to the lyrics omg-

📣 He doesn’t even have to teach them words, they just pick them up on their own… and then never stop saying them… ever

📣 ‘YEAHHHHH’ then from the other side of your home you hear another ‘YEAAHHHHH’

📣 Make it stop

📣 You taught them cuss words for the shits and giggles though

📣 Yama finds it funny too though because he’s got that 8-year-old sense of humor… you all do to be honest

📣 But when the bird chooses to sit on your shoulder you bet your ass Yamada’s gonna fawn over the two of you for the next hour :’)

Taishiro Toyomitsu - Pyrenean Mastiff

🍢 Really wants a pet

🍢 But also really scared of crushing them so…

🍢 You guys settle for a big ‘ol Pyrenean mastiff!

🍢 And when I say they’re big they are big like… I mean knock you over if you’re not careful big

🍢 They’re literally perfect for each other

🍢 They’re both massive units, insanely adorable, and they for sure share the same appetite

🍢 Speaking of food, he makes sure he’s feeding them the best of the best foods even if that means y’all are making it yourselves

🍢 Not as afraid to roughhouse with them as he thought he’d be

🍢 Lots of fetching, frisbee throwing, ‘wrestling’ even?? They’re so rowdy and for what? My heart, that’s what <3

🍢 The dog definitely sleeps on top of him I don’t make the rules

🍢 Mf just hops on up, curls up and they’re ready to go like--- Is that- is that not y’know,,, HEAVY??

🍢 I mean,,, you sleep on top of him too so I honestly don’t think Tai cares too much

Aizawa Shota - Cat

💤 You guys already know…

💤 If he were to get any kind of pet it’d be a cat.

💤 They’re chill, independent, and sometimes want attention. Just how he likes it.

💤 Well… that’s how he thought that things should be but-

💤 BOY was he wrong

💤 After living together for quite a while, stalking animal shelter websites for the perfect cat, and finding the right one, you bring them home!

💤 When you met them at the shelter, they were a sweet lil baby with an aloof attitude that you both fell in love with

💤 But when you brought them home… They became an absolute crackhead.

💤 Forget having ANYTHING on the tables or countertops. It’s on the floor now thanks to them. Fuck your water glass, fuck those papers you were helping Aizawa grade, they’re gone! Shredded! Positively destroyed :)

💤 Forget having free hands, they’re literally attached to his side and won’t stop rubbing against his hands while he’s grading papers and such

💤 If you’re not watching his little dude/ette will try and eat food WHILE YOU’RE COOKING oh my fuckingf god

💤 Heaven forbid this dude tries to leave the room. They’ll ‘cry’ until he comes back.

💤 ‘Go to your other parent, they’ll give you attention.’ ‘mEEEOWWW’ ‘Oh my god fine come here.’

💤 Honestly though he really appreciates when they’re down to sleep. Their purrs and their cuddles are very appreciated

💤 And literally just imagine seeing them curled up on his chest while they sleep on the couch ;; im so somft

Eijiro Kirishima - Bearded Dragon

🏮 This man wants to get THE manliest pet of all,,, a bearded dragon

🏮 He probably saw one on a movie or something and immediately came to you like

🏮 ‘Okay but we neeeeed one just look at their lil beards!! And their tongues!!!’

🏮 You tell him to put it off for a bit, do some research, and see if he still wants one later

🏮 Homeboy is DEDICATED so he puts in the time and ofc he still wants one after the fact

🏮 After a good amount of time, he comes back with a books worth of reasons as to why you guys should get one and you’re honestly shocked

🏮 You just can’t say no to those eyes </33 so you oblige and go out and get one from an owner who’s surrendering it (Because we don’t support chain pet stores in this household)

🏮 You guys can’t pick a name for them so for the longest time they’re just called ‘the lizard’ or ‘little fella’ or whatever else you guys come up with

🏮 Anyways- he’s infatuated with them it’s so funny. He spends all of his freetime watching them get used to their new habitat like,,,, all of it. It’s 1am and he’s just watching it hang out and you’re like ‘Kiri if you love it so much then why don’t you sleep with it’ (not in that way ya nasty)

🏮 HE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY

🏮 Next thing you know he hops out of bed, brings them back and puts them between your pillows.

🏮 Lil homie’s just vibin there.

🏮 You’re done tbh but if Kiri’s happy then you’re happy <33

🏮 Absolutely lets it sit on his shoulders when he’s walking around the house

🏮 He has a leash for them and he takes them out during the warmer months

🏮 Dedicates a good portion of his day to clean out their habitat when need be

🏮 Their relationship is just so cute you can’t help but melt every time you see them together

Tenya Iida - Tropical Fish

🌟 After a particularly rough finals season, you figure that Iida needs to have some sort of hobby that can help him chill out, but also has some sort of brainwork in there because that’s your boyfriend for ya

🌟 You suggest getting some fish!

🌟 He rly said ‘I’ll think about it’ then proceeded to do a shit ton of research on it because he literally does that every time you express interest in something. King behavior!!

🌟 You guys settle on getting a few tropical fish and a super nice fish tank for ‘em

🌟 He lets you name all of them and of course you have to name one ‘Iida junior’ like how could you not-

🌟 But seriously though he finds it so endearing and sweet ;;

🌟 You can’t tell me he doesn’t buy all of the nicest shit he can for their tank too.

🌟 Fresh aquatic plants, huge rocks for them to swim through, a nice ass heater, the WORKS

🌟 He’s gotta treat yall’s babies right like what did you expect

🌟 Constantly checking their water to see if it’s alright for them

🌟 He’s usually the one to feed them so whenever he comes up to the tank, they all crowd up by the top like doggies when their owner comes home omg

🌟 He finds the noises from the tank to be really good background noise when he’s reading or studying

🌟 Iida’s honestly glad that you suggested to get fish ‘cause taking care of them is such a relaxing hobby and lord knows he needs some of those

Hanta Sero - Rose Haired Tarantula

🧵 So he wants a Rose Hair Tarantula...

🧵 ‘Absolutely not’ - You, 2021 (sorry if you actually like spiders lol, if a singular person wants hcs where y’all both like spiders please @ me)

🧵 Lots and lots of begging and promises

🧵 ‘You won’t even have to clean the cage, I’ll do it!!’ ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ ‘c’mooon pretty please???’

🧵 He had to bust out the puppy eyes for you to say yes

🧵 And with that, you’re now the proud parents of a demon rose hair tarantula!

🧵 ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ your ass. He lets it climb all over him while he’s walking around the house!!

🧵 Not you actively avoiding him when you see them coming down towards you

🧵 ‘But I wanna kiss!!’ ‘Kiss your tarantula smh’

🧵 After he realizes he’s not gonna get any with his lil buddy (yes, that’s what he calls them) he tries his best to help you familiarize with em

🧵 I’m sorry but he’s trying so hard not to laugh as you freak out when they crawl up your arm

🧵 He takes things more seriously after that though. He’ll give you lil words of encouragement, back pats and such

🧵 He’s so happy that you become… tolerable after a while of you guys just hangin’ out that you can’t help but feel proud too.

🧵 You still can’t stand spiders though.

Keigo Tamaki - Bunnies

🐤 Just like Aizawa, he wants something that’s quiet and can be independent since his schedule is a bit busy but he still wants to have a lil buddy to love on

🐤 You’re actually the one to bring up the idea to get a bunny, it’s part of a long list of ideas you had come up with, but for whatever reason, the bunny idea just stuck with him

🐤 You two hop (im a comedic genius hi <33) on over to the nearest rescue you can find, and browse through the enclosures looking for the perfect bunny for you guys

🐤 Ok so like- here’s the thing,,,

🐤 You totally didn’t plan on getting two bunnies… But you guys found a pair that were literally inseparable and y’all had to have them

🐤 He’s already calling them ‘Our children’ straight off the bat like- y’all JUST got home and he’s already giving you baby fever UGH

🐤 He bunny-proofs the FUCK out of the house so they can roam freely ‘cause he didn’t just get these babies to stick them in a cage smh

🐤 Will lay on the floor and just watch them romp around cus he finds it relaxing and funny

🐤 Also please get on the floor and watch them with him. Prime cuddling hours

🐤 They burrow under his wings… I repeat- THEY BURROW UNDER HIS WINGS

🐤 They WILL flop together don’t @ me

🐤 They (and by they I mean all three of them) flop on you when they want attention can I jst--- *cries*

🐤 Have fun trying to get up, this is your life now.

🐤 But are you really complaining? You shouldn’t be smh

223 notes · View notes

uwumessenger · 4 years

Text

random headcanons i have for each om! character teehee

hi it's been a while since ive posted some hcs bc uni has been kicking my a$$! luckily i only have a few papers to tidy up and im done. here r some hcs for each obey me character that ive accumulated over the past few months wink wonk

most are random but some constants you'll find are what i think they smell like, languages they can speak (other than their native (demon/angel) and eng/jp), and music tastes !

lucifer

i have a strong feeling that he showers twice a day: in the morning after waking up and at night before going to bed

his cologne is probably the type that will last in an elevator for like a week after he uses it once. i dont think this mf ever smells like anything other than his cologne

has a secret folder on his phone of semi-nudes and other scandalous pics from when he felt sexy at the time omg

aside from demon language/eng/jp he can speak french and knows latin

listens to classical stuff yea but he also listens to diavolos mixtapes (re: diavolo's section)

not a fan of sweets but will eat sweet things when craving

really bland sense of humor...borderline cringey 😭✋🏻

mammon

has gone to google images and searched for "inspirational quotes tumblr" "gold aesthetic tumblr" & "relatable crush post tumblr" then reposts it onto his socials or just taps thru them and giggles bc he relates

his cologne doesnt last as long as lucifers and probably smells common. he has to reapply a lot but it's a people pleasing smell. it's cheaper hence the constant reapplying

he probably does have an expensive bottle but is the type to totally overspray...eek

he is canonically a car guy 🥲 and probably tells the one in his room good morning & good night + kisses the hood every once in a while. has tons of car magazines

he doesnt really speak other languages but has attempted to learn spanish before

listens to whatever is on the radio. doesnt rly stan anyone but he eventually will listen to mc's playlist and mc's playlist ONLY

levi

lurks on mc's socials ALL THE TIMEEEE like he will rewatch ur stories and scroll thru ur feed and overanalyze ur tweets/rts or blog posts. if ur mc isnt the type to use sns much he still googles ur name all the damn time just to find any sites u might be on fjdjdjdjskks

probably streams on whatever youtube or twitch devildom site equivalent there is, but only has like 40 or so followers. which he is okay with!

until he sees someone else who gets more attention than him. then the envy starts kicking in bad. especially if they suck 🧍🏻‍♀️

classic gamer boy smell. you know, sweat, tears, must, and (sometimes) axe deodorant. lucifer has to do a scent check before he goes out to any event & lets him use his cologne. how sweet!

kpop stan!! more girl groups than anything and his ults are probably GIRLS GENERATION, wonder girls, twice, loona, & red velvet

cried when ioi disbanded and refused to leave his room. the only thing u could hear was downpour on loop at full blast

can also speak korean & communicate in echolocation like dolphins 😏

satan

listens to country music you cant change my mind

smells like whatever environment he is in. he doesnt really have a designated smell just throws some deodorant on and goes about his day.

he's sooooo bad at driving...gets road rage way too often so his license has been REVOKED

but hes totally a backseat driver. needs to be sedated on long trips

do not let him watch finding nemo when luke asks to watch it. it's not worth it. he will cause mass destruction.

if he was a human or lived long term in the human world he totally has the ability to be a doctor

is studying as many languages as possible, but he mostly knows latin & french & german etc etc. wants to learn all the dead languages out of curiousity

asmo

dont think this mf has ever held down a relationship. ever

he doesnt compromise much & is not willing to change his lifestyle to fit an s/o into it. you keep up with how he lives or it just isnt meant to be (but dont worry! he'll eventually learn...maybe,,,,)

has the hardest time out of everyone when it comes to breaking bad habits

his smell varies bc he uses a variety of perfumes (whatever is the most popular at the time) but he probably sticks to floral and fresh scents. he never uses generic people pleaser scents like mammon

listens to electropop, mainstream pop, & some alternative rock

as for languages he too knows french, spanish, italian, etc. in general, if it's a romance language he knows it!

opposite of lucifer in the sense where he loves sweets and will refrain from eating too many bitter things

i think we all know that asmo is the biggest rockstar of the group! he's probably been in a boy band at least once, but now he makes his own music

has tried to teach mammon how to sing once. ended up in a broken piano and bleeding ears...

beel

i feel like he is SO SHY

like unless ur close to him he will not start conversations or anything

i think he listens to r&b a lot ! and jazz 😎 maybe rock as well

smells like ur typical athlete with undertones of wet wipes. he carries them around bc he likes to clean his hands before he eats & is prepared for when theres no sink nearby

he can drive and he drives really well. no rough turns, parallel parks perfectly, and never has problems with merging

driving with beel is probably really soothing. left hand is steering the other is gripping ur thigh 😫

dont think hes really fluent in any other language but hes probably semi fluent in korean because levi wanted beel to help him out

definitely know how to order food in practically every language tho HAHAHA

belphie

he reminds me of randall from monsters inc

smells kinda musty IM SORRY but not the way levi does hes more like the kind of musty u feel or smell when it's a shitty morning

but that's only because hes so lazy, when he cleans up hes like satan

has definitely murdered multiple people before. mc is not the first 😐✋🏻

with that being said belphie has been put into prison at least twice when visiting the human world, the mf had such a strong hatred for humans theres no way he never got into trouble before

lucifer probably broke him out and they used the pen thingies from men in black to erase everyones memory of that 🙄

dont think he listens to anything other than music that'll put him to sleep. really likes lazy song by bruno mars but thinks that bruno mars put too much effort into the song. should have been one acapella verse and then finish

similar to beel hes only semi fluent in one language, probably french bc of lucifer. doesnt remember much but knows a couple of lullabies and bedtime stories

the sandman used to be his bff until they drifted. they do, however, like and comment on each other's sns posts.

diavolo

once he found out who nicki minaj was he became her #1 stan

def an ariana grande stan too 😌

choreographs dances when hes stressed...idk just seems like a diavolo thing to do

also makes rly bad soundcloud rap music sometimes. turns to poetry when hes feeling emo but only lucifer knows this. barbatos is suspicious of him but doesnt have enough evidence to confirm.

his dad is like hudson abadeer from adventure time aka marceline's dad? something must have influenced him to want to unite the 3 realms + he would need the approval to do so, so his dad must be more chill than all the others before him 🧍🏻‍♀️ IDK ok anyway

currently going through his hamilton phase bc of mc. whether mc's intent was to get him hooked onto it or just to explain it bc of something he saw online, he tells everyone that he found out abt it bc of mc!

this man cannot drive his skills are only second to jumin han

not too fond of many languages but knows the widely spoken ones like spanish, mandarin, etc. if it's taught in high school he knows it

smells like a las vegas casino. not sure why but i feel like he does. but there's also an interesting & nice smell to him if he embraces you. it's a smell you cant quite identify. but it smells nostalgic, it's mysterious, and it's tempting.

barbatos

very calm demeanor but underneath hes WILD hes probably done everything at least once oof

he just has a lot of control and stability over himself (must be nice!)

on a more angsty note i feel like he might have had his heartbroken sO BAD IDK he is hurting and maybe that's why hes so willing to obey diavolo and not abuse his time lord power thingies bc he learned his lesson the hard way

mans is so smart he knows every language you could switch languages mid conversation with him and he wouldnt be thrown off. he'd probably start speaking it too.

BUT HE SPEAKS VIET P E R F E C T L Y

listens to the same stuff as lucifer but also likes eminem. likes the movie 8 mile but criticized it heavily

have you ever been to a chinese herb shop? naturally, he smells like that. his room probably smells like it too. he doesnt really have a significant smell like some of the others

when he bakes he smells like whatever hes baking tho

one of the few out of everyone listed to have been able to travel to literally everywhere

solomon

was probably on kitchen nightmares once, but only to get feedback from chef gordon ramsay. then he used his magic to prevent the episode from airing...

was in an orchestra, one of the best times of his life. played the violin. asmo watched him in the audience once, but didnt approach him until well after that performance.

he CANNOT sing. he can, however, rap.

doesnt listen to music. he listens to podcasts! but every now and then he turns on background music, but prefers it to be instrumental stuff

never wears sunglasses. also does not have a driver's license. cannot drive a regular car. could maybe fly an airplane.

due to his immortality he has learned almost every language to exist, but finds himself speaking mandarin the most. knows most dialects too

similar smell to barbatos but u can also smell some sunscreen on him too. like, generic beach day suncreen

he has a lot of pact marks, so he once had the idea to match foundation to his skin. it took him two weeks but he eventually perfected a combination. yes he will help u find ur perfect shade if u ask him to

simeon

another country music man. has also made a tiktok or two to that one song that goes "he cant even bait a hook." they are private tho

angel country music exists and simeon invented it

if he visits the human world and wears more causal clothing he probably tucks his shirt into his pants

wears a speedo at the beach i tell u, speedo at the beach

he can speak german...i can feel it

uses his pointer finger to type and holds the phone like 2 inches away from his face so sometimes his nose will push a key hence all his typos

has no signature smell. he simply smells like your favorite scent all the time. if multiple people are around him at once, everyone smells a different smell. it's pretty rad

"what does he smell like to himself?" u may be asking. hmm...a church? 💀

luke

his first pet was a goldfish and a few months before the exchange program happened, he was given a koi pond!

secretly likes hanging out with levi sometimes just to play with henry. makes him miss his pet fish back home

so his favorite movie is probably finding nemo and he threw a fit when nemo touched the butt

luke is probably learning german bc of simeon, though he'd like to learn more of the dead languages just for fun

i dont think he listens to music often or has any preferences, he just listens to whatever is playing on the radio

but he finds himself listening to the music mc listens to

smells like freshly baked goods all the time. or fresh laundry. but like, not combined. just depends on the day

269 notes · View notes

sgt-nerd-plays · 3 years

Text

Grand Waaagh!

Long time, no battle reports. Sadly, there’s been a bit of a global pandemic going around and being a responsible member of the community, I’ve been avoiding big gatherings that might spread the plague. However, your old sarge has been vaccinated, so with the help of likewise protected people, I was able to get a game in. This time, I was able to bring my ork army. Not just orks, but a whole stompa!

The Stompmost

Game Setup:

The idea was that it was going to be a more casual game where we would bring a bunch of models, play on on oversized board, and just kinda slam minis together with a bit of objective holding as a treat.

I was, of course, playing orks, and bringing 2000 points, plus the stompa. My partner was playing Alpha Legion, and bringing 1000 points. On the other side, we had one person bringing 2000 points of Crimson Fists (Hi Ryolnir!) and another person bringing 1000 points of Grey Knights (Hi, Zuul!) Thanks to Ryolnir for providing several of the pictures used in this batrep.

I brought Ghaz, a warboss on warbike, a weirdboy, five meganobz trukkboyz, a trukk (for carting around said trukkboyz), two mobs of boyz (11 and 14 models in each), a dakka jet, five warbikers, and one of each of the non-HQ buggies, plus an extra scrapjet. Except I’m an idiot and forgot one scrapjet and the dragsta, so I had to borrow a scrapjet from the game club’s cabinet, and a wartrike which stood in for the dragsta. I played as Evil Sunz, though several of the units (the bikeboss and the trukk) were Death Skulls and the dakkajet was painted up as Bad Moonz. I know, I’m terrible, but the rest of my army was wysiwyg.

My Narrative:

Warboss Scragkill Gudluk revved his warbike impatiently. Somewhere there was a scrap, and he was anxious to get to it. However, he’d been separated from his mob. And if that wasn’t bad enough, da Boss had shown up, along with a bunch of red-painted gits.

Ghazghkul Mag Uruk Thraka, prophet of da Waaagh, was giving orders. “Awright, we needs t’get into dis fight quick, so I want you an’ yer other evil sunz t’haul yer guts like they was on fire, you got it?”

“Er, beggin’ yer pardon, but I ain’t no Sunz. I’m Death Skulls!” Scragkill slapped the side of his blue bike proudly.

Ghazghkull responded by smacking him on the side of the head so hard he fell off of the bike and skidded several yards.

When Scrag managed to hobble up and lean unsteadily against the side of the bike, Ghaz asked “What was dat?”

“Er, da red ones go fasta?” Scrag said uncertainly.

“Dat’s what I likes t’hear. Now, we’ll send in da big lad first.” Ghaz craned his neck to look up at the stompa, with its grot rigger crew scrabbling atop getting it ready for waaagh. “I gots a good feelin’ about dis.”

Da Waaagh approaches!

Our deployment zone was in one quarter of the table, minus a nine inch radius from the center. I pushed the stompa up as far as I could. Its only real hope was to get to the astraeus before it lost too many wounds. Most of the Alpha Legion units were in Deep Strike, ready to move in at a moment’s notice.

The Emperor Protects! As does this wall! [Credit: Ryolnir]

The knights player put his entire army into deep strike. The fists player, on the other hand was deployed a bit more defensively than my orks. If only I'd been so smart. He ended up going first, and he immediately popped the stompa. Its work done, the astraeus returned with full honors to its cabinet, where it would do me no further harm, since it was obviously going to be a really short game if it had stayed on the table.

However, this caused some follow-on effects for both of us. Because he'd hidden his stuff, he didn't have angle with a lot of his stuff turn one. On the other hand, I couldn't get anything into charge range that turn, and most of my shooting couldn't target his stuff either. I managed to take out an assault intercessor squad, but that was pretty much it. My partner's maulerfiend was stuck in the back of a bad traffic jam with my warbikers. This meant turn one was spent mostly untangling this while his units got into firing position.

He did have a good firing line on one of my units: The trukk I'd hidden to the side of the stompa, sadly only mostly out of line of sight. It was popped, and I lost one of my trukkboy meganobz on the disembark.

Da Real Treasure Was the Dakka We Found Along Da Way. [Credit: Ryolnir]

I was able to get a couple of buggies into line of sight with his melee infantry, however, and I was able to take out one unit of assault intercessors with my snazzwagon and boostablasta. Meanwhile, my two deffdreads were trundling forward to get their claws on something tasty. At the far side of the board you can see my meganobz trying to get into cover until they could make their way to a scrap.

Bullets! My only weakness! [Credit: Ryolnir]

The grey knights teleported in, taking the fight to me at the midpoint on the board. Meanwhile, the crimson fists player moved his units forward out of hiding and began taking things down. The buggies folded quickly under some shooting from his speeder and aggressors.

On the other side of the board, the meganobz wilted under the knights' shooting and smites. Ghaz lost four wounds to the psychic onslaught.

Yo yo yo! It’s Grandmaster Dreadknight, and I’m here to rap about how the Emperor saves, novitiates!

However, now it was time for waaaagh! A bit of shooting took out a few of the vanvets, and then the deff dreads ran up and gave the last three a nice hug, turning them into crimson smears.

Where did da humies go, George?

Ghaz, the bikeboss, and the bikers all charged in at the dreadknights. The weirdboy cast fists of gork on the bikeboss, making him right killy.

Hit ‘im in da face! Den hit ‘im in da face harder!

It turns out that seven killa klaw attacks at S14, with extra attacks for each of the originals that doesn't do damage, is a lot. The grandmaster was a deadknight instead of a dreadknight. That robbed the bikers of any attacks, since he was their charge target. But fortunately, Ghaz got full attacks on the other dreadnight. ...Of which two went through, and were both saved against. Some days you get the waaagh, some days the waaagh gets you.

On their turn, the grey knights smote the crap out of the bikeboss and the warbikers, getting them mostly dead and finishing them off in the shooting and fight phases. Ghaz ended up hanging on with a single wound.

Last Ghazp

The Crimson Fist player wasn't idle during this time. He took out the dakkajet with some long distance shooting, then went ahead and removed the two deff dreads, one scrapjet, my squigbuggy, and several boyz. That left me with a grand total of one scrapjet, twenty-odd boyz in two squads, my weirdboy, and Ghaz holding on by a single wound when my third turn came up.

Orks don’t panic. The sweating and twitching is just anticipation of a good waaagh, is all. No one is fleeing, we’re just looking for a better scrap, is all. [Credit: Ryolnir]

But that was when my allies, the alpha legion, showed up! So secretly, in fact, that no photographic evidence for their arrival can be found. Yeah, none of my pictures from that part of the game came out well. Ultimately, his obliterators and terminators managed to take out the crimson first redemptor. My weirdboy managed to kill the grey knights chaplain, but the surviving justicar of his strike squad was able to deal a fatal wound to Ghaz, finally toppling the Prophet of the Waaagh.

We basically called it there. The grey knights player had to go, so the crimson fist player did his last turn of shooting to see if we'd have even stood a chance. The surviving scrapjet took a surprisingly long time to die, given it started the round with only five wounds left. But when it died, it exploded, and thanks to the careen stratagem, it was able to leave its mark.

Enjoy your mortal wounds, suckers!

Ultimately, it's a little hard for me to analyze the battle too fully. The abortive superheavy duel skewed deployment pretty heavily. It probably saved me a bit of shooting in the first round, but it also meant that I wasn't able to any shooting off my first turn either. Going second definitely hurt me, since it meant the trukkboyz meganobz weren't able to get their full value (though they absorbed a lot of firepower before they died, which probably saved some other units). The maulerfiend never got past the traffic jam until turn three, and the other units he had were too far back to be able to shoot or get into melee.

That left me pretty much high and dry turn two, looking down the barrel at 3000 points without any backup. By the time he popped in on our turn three, I was down to about 650 points, 300 of which belonged to one-wound Ghaz. Even if he’d popped off, it’s unlikely we would have been able to claw our way back out of that deficit. If we’d gone first, waiting until turn three wouldn’t have hurt quite as bad, but as it was, that was two full rounds where I was effectively 1000 points behind the enemy.

In the future, I’ll probably ask that my partners not go quite that crazy on deep strike shenanigans, or at least come in a bit sooner.

All that being said, I had a ton of fun, and it was great finally getting my boyz on the table. I did learn a lot about pitfalls in setting up, how variable some of my units can be, and how to move things fast. I also learned some organization issues, and I'll know how to handle them better. In the future, rather than showing with a stack of double-sided buttscribe sheets, I'll have them singlesided in a binder, so I can flip through them quickly and know where things are.

On the ruined battlefield, the shattered armor of the once-mighty stompa were scattered and blasted. The remains of orks and traitor marines decorated the landscape. The adeptus astartes were the only ones who survived to recover their dead.

And yet, under the hot sun, some of the debris stirred. A massive ceramite plate was thrown aside, and the massive power weapon known as Gork’s Klaw emerged from the wreckage.

#warhammer 40k #Warhammer #orks #ghazghkull #evil sunz #space marines #crimson fists #grey knights #alpha legion #Battle Report #wh40k #40K #plastic space barbies #adeptus astartes #traitor astartes #Orks40k #space orks #batrep

12 notes · View notes

thenuclearweaselhaslanded · 3 years

Text

Grand Waaaagh!

The Stompmost

Game Setup:

My Narrative:

“Er, beggin’ yer pardon, but I ain’t no Sunz. I’m Death Skulls!” Scragkill slapped the side of his blue bike proudly.

Ghazghkull responded by smacking him on the side of the head so hard he fell off of the bike and skidded several yards.

When Scrag managed to hobble up and lean unsteadily against the side of the bike, Ghaz asked “What was dat?”

“Er, da red ones go fasta?” Scrag said uncertainly.

Da Waaagh approaches!

The Emperor Protects! As does this wall! [Credit: Ryolnir]

Da Real Treasure Was the Dakka We Found Along Da Way. [Credit: Ryolnir]

Bullets! My only weakness! [Credit: Ryolnir]

On the other side of the board, the meganobz wilted under the knights' shooting and smites. Ghaz lost four wounds to the psychic onslaught.

Yo yo yo! It’s Grandmaster Dreadknight, and I’m here to rap about how the Emperor saves, novitiates!

However, now it was time for waaaagh! A bit of shooting took out a few of the vanvets, and then the deff dreads ran up and gave the last three a nice hug, turning them into crimson smears.

Where did da humies go, George?

Ghaz, the bikeboss, and the bikers all charged in at the dreadknights. The weirdboy cast fists of gork on the bikeboss, making him right killy.

Hit ‘im in da face! Den hit ‘im in da face harder!

Last Ghazp

Orks don’t panic. The sweating and twitching is just anticipation of a good waaagh, is all. No one is fleeing, we’re just looking for a better scrap, is all. [Credit: Ryolnir]

Enjoy your mortal wounds, suckers!

In the future, I’ll probably ask that my partners not go quite that crazy on deep strike shenanigans, or at least come in a bit sooner.

And yet, under the hot sun, some of the debris stirred. A massive ceramite plate was thrown aside, and the massive power weapon known as Gork’s Klaw emerged from the wreckage.

#warhammer #warhammer 40k #orks #space marines #crimson fists #grey knights #alpha legion

16 notes · View notes

softlyjiminie · 4 years

Text

black swan | one

⇢ pairing(s): professional dancer!park jimin x figure skater!reader.

⇢ word count: 4.8K.

⇢ rating: 16+, mature.

⇢ genre: angst, eventual smut, fluff, e2l, fake dating!au, corrupted idol!au, dancer!au, figure skater!au.

⇢ summary: a life of skating was all you’d ever known, your heart craving the feeling of ice beneath your feet and the light brush of cool air against your skin under thousands of sparkling lights... what a shame, if only you’d known that one night, one accident could rip you from the life you’d grown to love, leaving your career in the unsteady hands of the prince of ballet, park jimin.

⇢ warning(s): please read for this chapter! angst, just a lot of vmon fluff, sports injury and mentions of blood!

⇢ author’s note(s): eeeep here it is everyone!! the first chapter of my new series!! ive worked super hard on this so im nervous and excited to share :( i hope you guys love it! feedback is greatly appreciated <3

⇢ series masterlist | next

alive.

if there was one word that you would use to describe this feeling, it would be alive. from the second the toepick of your skate touched the ice, your body would always come to light, energy surging through your veins as you drifted across the smooth surface of the rink. you belonged here, you were born here. this was was where you felt at home.

although the space was littered with other skaters, you believe yourself to be alone— the music of your heavily practiced routine filling your mind while you ready your position...head down, arm outstretched and fingertips pointed. rolling your shoulders, you clutch your hand to your chest as the chords of your original soundtrack blast through your thoughts, with a half turn you bend at the back, catching your skate while you twist your body into a layback spin— holding your skate to your head. “catch foot,” you whisper, following the notes of the song— butterfly. it was a short contemporary piece composed by your trainer which you had insisted on using for this competition. as the music flows, you release your grip on your skate and allow it to hit the ice, holding your arms out in a poised manner.

gliding across the ice, you dive into your next movement— the cantilever— bending at the knee and leaning backwards, skates out-turned. you know that move after would require the support from your partner, so you skip it in favour of saving it for the eyes of the judges. hydroblades were always a signature between he and yourself. the song hits a climax in your head, piano notes wafting through lost memories, tangled with practices of routines and you tumble effortlessly into the remaining steps like a flowing waterfall that never stops— the triple axel is the jump that comes after, a difficult manoeuvre through the air...but well known in the skating community as only a few have landed it in contest. skating forward, you put your power into the jump, leaping forward with only two and half rotations, saving the third for the competition and breathing a sigh of relief when you land backwards— just as planned. you move with the grace of a pure white swan, silently slipping into every move, spin and jump as you focus on only the sounds of your blade against the ice.

completing another full turn, you head straight into a sit spin— curling in on yourself as your body lowers to the cool surface of the ice. during a spin, you fyour blades dig into the ice as you come to a halt, exposing yourself to the world once again. breathing laboured from exertion, you outstretch your arms once more and imagine the final chords of your musical piece, ending your routine.

your attention is captured by a round of applause to your left, making you whip your head in search for the sound. a sweet grin graced your lips as you recognise the two men clapping away, causing you to skate over and rest your palms on the boarders of the rink.

“taehyungie,” you sing, leaning over the barriers to ruffle at the thick mass of unruly black locks that curl just above his eyes. the boy only laughs as he grabs your wrist and pulls you in for an awkward hug. his body is warmer compared to the ice, bringing you a sense of homely comfort that you recognise as familiar. “i missed you at practice just now,”

taehyung himself rolls his eyes making it his turn to ruffle your hair. “oh please, you hardly need me! you make a two man routine look good on its own!” he rambles excitedly, body leering over the barrier as if the ice is calling him. taehyung’s dark eyes flitter up to meet yours, an amused chuckle emulating from his lips at your jokingly unimpressed expression. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you were a solo skater—“

you huff, letting the corners of your lips twitch up into a small smile. “you know that i couldn’t ever do this without you, tae— i need you on the ice with me.” you poke at his cheek affectionately, your body lighting up as you spot namjoon, both yours and taehyung’s coach behind the latter. your skating partner catches the change in your expression, turning around to greet namjoon with a warm hug and kiss to the cheek.

yourself, taehyung and namjoon had known each other for as long as you could remember. you’d met taehyung at your very first skating lesson, in a beginners class when his hair was wild and untamed, a little boy with missing teeth and big bright eyes. as a little girl, you’d thought he’d gotten lost on his way to an ice hockey practice. at the time, namjoon’s father ran the skating company you started under— leaving his son in charge of the beginners class.

the three of you had grown up together; taehyung was your first kiss— promptly realising he wasn’t into girls right after you’d stolen a smooch on the swing set in your backyard after a practice (“yeah...YN, i’m gay.”). and even in high school, the two of you stalking namjoon around hallways as you teased a blushing taehyung about is growing crush on the lankier male. you cradled you’re jubilant friend as he cried when namjoon left for college, his light dimming a bit but you remembered crying harder when the three of you were united four years and a plethora of competitions, medals and skates later.

“well if it isn’t my favourite pair of skaters,” namjoon greets, tucking his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket that proudly shows off the logo of your skating company. “practicing again, YN?”

you see the amusement dancing in your coach’s eyes, he wouldn’t have put it past you to see you on the ice so early in the morning. you’d never relented with your skating, having pushed yourself to win two olympic medals by the time you were nineteen. you were an image of perfection in the skating world, not a scandal or downfall in your entire career— most would find such an achievement quite daunting— losing friends was made easy because of it... but you knew that you had taehyung and namjoon and the love of your family and company, you knew that with that you could achieve anything. “i have to, if i want to be better than taehyung...” you tease and tug on said male’s sleeve. “help me get him on the ice?”

namjoon presses a kiss into the depths of taehyung’s deep ocean locks, sending him off with a whisper that makes him run off to grab his skates before the elder approaches you. “little ice princess, i think i have a gift for you...” namjoon sings sweetly, pulling his phone from his back pocket as you lean over the barrier excitedly.

“you think?”

“i know.”

the elder holds out his device for you to see, the screen lighting up as an unfamiliar caller ID flashes across it. you raise your eyes hesitantly while your coach nods, smile reaching his eyes as you answer the call. a group of beaming faces decorate the screen and your own eyes dance across each and every one of them, recognising them as the boys and girls of moonchild skating company.

“YN!” the skaters cheer, waving excitedly amongst a sea of claps and giggles. “good, luck!”

“thanks you guys,” you whisper sweetly, sparing an appreciative glance at namjoon, you blow kisses to all of your fellow skaters thankfully. you note some of them to be from different ranks in your company; from beginners to juniors and some from different areas of competition— although your heart jumps slightly at the sight of one in particular. “jungkookie...”

“noona!” the boy cheers, scrunching his nose excitedly at the mention of his name. your heart melts as he looks to you with sparkling doe eyes, the younger boy having a special place in your heart— he came to the company bright eyed and shy, there had been a lot of doubt about jungkook’s abilities on the ice because of that. but as soon as he stepped foot on the rink, everyone’s worries drifted away— each of his movements were silken and seamless easily making him one of the best solo skaters in the senior rank, although he was slightly younger than you. you remember catching him after practice one day— he had yet to decide if he wanted to sign up with namjoon and he’d only stayed behind to watch you run through your routine with taehyung. the bumbling boy couldn’t help but blush when he’d been caught with yourself and your partner yearning for him to join. he did so in the end... because of you, because you had inspired him to pick up skating after you won your first gold medal. it just so happened that little jungkookie was a fast learner. “did you like the surprise? i thought it would help with your nerves— i know you get butterflies in your tummy before you perform! so do i! especially when i see you— uh! i mean!”

jungkook’s ears burn as bright as his cherry red hair, the shade only feeling as your melodious chuckle wafts through the phone’s speakers. “i loved it kookie, thank you.” you hum, batting your lashes at him, despite the presence of the other skaters on the call. you knew he had a soft spot for you, it was hard to miss his longing gazes and the tightening of his jaw when tae put his hand on your waist for lifts. it was sweet. “good luck to you in your regionals as well, you’ll do great... okay?” you’re quick to remind him, as you note taehyung returning from the locker room.

“t-thank you noona! we love you!”

the skaters give you one last cheer and round of applause as taehyung slips into view with a boxed grin and sweet wave. namjoon ends the call, ruffling his lover’s mop of hair before ushering the two of you onto the ice, ready to run through your routine one last time.

putting together the perfect routine, is like making the perfect breakfast. the eggs you begin with, a sweet yolk dancing on your tongue like the starting moves that give the judges a taste of what you’re capable of. next were the pancakes, drenched in syrup— like light movements through the air, packing a punch with the saucy moves between yourself and your partner to show off your finesse and finally, there was the—

“orange juice.” taehyung’s timbre voice cut through your thoughts like a knife as he place a glass of freshly squeezed juice in front of you whilst disrupting your mentally mapped out routine. blinking rapidly under his stares, your gaze switched from the piles of food he’d set on your plate, to the amused but scolding glare he’d spared you. “drink it, it’ll keep your sugar and energy up for today.”

“thanks taetae...”

you nod gratefully, leaning forward and taking a gulp of the bitter yellow liquid as if it’ll wash away the nerves beginning to bubble in the pits of your stomach. nonetheless, the skater beams brightly at you before he scoffs down a mouthful of his towering breakfast— as he always did before such events. you, however, couldn’t bare to eat— not with the devious stares of the other female figure skaters who eyed your plates. you knew it was a tactic to throw you off guard, the canteen of the hotel was much like a high school back in the day, with cliques and squads all out to get each other. it was always like this before major skating competition but your mind is too busy being filled with anticipation of getting on the ice and showing off once more.

namjoon appears after taehyung has eaten more than half his plate— resulting in him stealing bits and pieces from your own. “don’t look so nervous, YN,” the elder chides from over his steaming cup of coffee, hand running through his dishevelled purple and blonde streaked locks. “you’ll do great, both of you will.” your coach spares a knowing glance to taehyung, who blushes through munching the rest of your pancakes and so; you can tell by the light bruises on the neck that he and taehyung had a rough encounter in the night before.

joon was never allowed to mark taehyung above the waist, because the younger loved to wear costumes that glittered and showed off his open chest. you knew from experience that the marks would be below the waist where no one could see— like their own little good luck ritual. glee consumes your skating partner as namjoon nuzzles his nose into his dark hair, the distraction letting you slip under the surface of worry once more.

‘no, you’ve got this.’ you think, flickering your gaze anywhere but your plate in order to clam the race horse of thoughts in your mind. you finally settle on staring at the news report playing on the small digital TV hanging in the right hand corner of the cafeteria. park jimin, arrested for speeding. the report flashes across the screen, images of bright blonde hair and dark eyes hidden by thick black shades passing by with faint sounds of camera clicks.

you shake your head, grateful to never had experienced trouble like that. sure, you’d dealt with reporters and trash paparazzi but, joon and tae— they’d always gotten you through it. it was just nice to not be alone like him...

park jimin.

taehyung had a mind of brilliance.

you sit in the stylist chair, hair slicked back and curled away from your eyes— the momentum of free hair would have disrupted your skating or thrown you off balance, but god was kim taehyung a miracle worker. he always knew how he wanted you both to look for performances, the makeup artists bidding to his every need. you could even find him helping out with the beginners class performances— adding glitter to baby cheeks and braiding youthful hair.

today, your friend had decided the look you would go for; would be faded baby blue shadow dancing across your lids and blending softly with cloudy whites and silver sparkles. your liner was sharp, winged enough to cut the diamond edge of the gemstones that were dotted at the corner of your eye— taehyung was smart, co-ordinating your makeup look with the pretty silver dress namjoon had scouted out just for you.

the article of clothing itself, is backless with long sleeves that form tear drops at your pointer finger as they fade from silver to a cool grey, much like the skirt of your dress. smaller gemstones and pearls align at your waist and chest, that glistened under the cheap light when namjoon had first revealed the outfit to you. you had cried when you thumbed the flowing layered skirt, thanking your boys endlessly for the beautiful dress but taehyung had only giggled — knowing that it matched his silver to white shirt, tight fitting and glittering with layered sleeves (which he loved so much).

now, you laced up your skates— nerves peaking once more. the white leather sat comfortably against your heal, having broken in the skates amiss your training. you knew that the current pair were already on the ice, eliciting cheers from the crowd so you forced your jitters into lacing up and securing your skates. a double not would suffice.

“you’re both going to do amazing, remember whatever happens out there... i’m proud of you.” your coach reminds with one last dimpled smile before you’re due on the ice. taehyung pecks both of your cheeks and leads you away from your team of staff— who clap excitedly for you while your names are announced.

squeezing his hand, you slide smoothly onto the ice with taehying and close your eyes, breathing in the sharp scent of coolness and fresh air and taking in the squeals of your names. “you look great,” your partner comments easily, smirking as you circle each other on the rink. you open your eyes, noting the white-ish glow the ice gives to taehyung’s honey skin and grin. “we’ve got this.”

“we always do,” you nod back in affirmation, confidence flaring as the announcement finishes (you had always felt more at home on the ice, and tae knew once you were out there, your worries would melt away with the music). you push yourself into position with tae, your foreheads pressed against once another’s, so close that you can feel his warm breath fanning across your face. it’s all for the dramatics but you know that the crowd loves your chemistry. piano chords drift through the air, signalling the start of your routine, your hands roam across taehyung’s body like you’d practiced countless times. when the beat picks up, taehyung twists you in his arms, fingertips reaching just above your head while your own hands follow his to link them.

you begin to pick up momentum, skating with each other in arm as the first verse picks, with hands on your waist, taehyung picks you up gently, holding you off the ice for just a second as he skates into a half spin before placing you down. resuming your movements across the rink, you separate and tumble into your next move— they lay back spin. the pair of you synchronise your moves, holding your skates to your head as you twirl into the lyrics of the song.

‘is it true? is it true?’ the lyrics reverberate in your mind, body following taehyung’s lead into the next steps. his fingertips are light on your arms to keep them poised, both of you extending your right legs as you glide across the ice. ‘you, you, you...’ your partner lifts you once more into his arms, pushing you into the air for you to fall gracefully into a double salchow— taking off with the back inside edge of your right skate and landing on the outside of the opposite skate. the crowd bursts into applause, making you grin subtly at your partner before interlocking your fingers once more for a partnered arabesque spirals.

your hand grips taehyung’s firmly, letting your bodies move naturally with the music as you hold your legs in outstretched positions. the chorus bursts through the arena as the air below your arms blows away any worries, you fall back into taehyung’s arms once more for a lift above his head— your legs stretched out into a galloping motion before he swiftly prompts you into a death spiral, holding onto your arm as he twirls your body lower towards the ice.

when the chorus ends, you’re back to skating side by side, wowing the crowd with your movements— like namjoon said you would. completing a paired sit spin, movements mirrored perfectly, a feeling of dread feels your stomach. the ice changes beneath your skates— rougher on this side of the rink than others which sends ripples of worry through your veins at what is to come next. a triple axel jump, they were difficult to land and yet a specialty of yourself and your partners. you knew in your heart that if you landed this jump, the competition was yours but the buzzing feeling in your mind knew that something was wrong. to others, the ice carried you gracefully across the rink, but you knew something was out of place. catching taehyung’s eye, it’s as if he feels it too, but you can’t miss he jump... not when it could cost you the chance of a win.

putting your trust into taehyung, the man you’ve known for years— you curl into his chest as his strong hands support you into propelling you into the triple axel jump but to your dismay, the ice catches beneath his toe pick, taehyung misses a fraction of a beat as he forces you into the air. fear spikes in your chest— you weren’t ready, not to land, not for the jump, not for the music to push through with a climax.

and certainly not for the crunch of your bones.

excited cheers die down to fearful gasps and screams of horror, while taehyung picks himself up from the fall. the world is too loud, the lights are too bright and paramedics rush past him as he shakes himself off. wait, paramedics. pupils blown wide the skater rushes to his feet, pushing past men in orange suits with medical kits strewn about— he hears the faint call of namjoon from over the barrier and the announcers up ahead but his focus is on you.

the loudness fades and a ringing sensation builds up behind your ears— the world is black and you can only catch momentary flashes of taehyung’s worried face above your own. you’re confused, you can’t hear him as he mumbles through his sudden onslaught of tears. you cringe as they drip onto your face, an urge to wipe away the wetness taking over you— but when your fingers are brought back to your eyes, you notice the colour of crimson decorating your finger tips.

a muffled cry leaves your small frame as pain shoots through your leg, you can’t find the source but suddenly reality comes rushing back. you can hear the rushed voices of paramedics as they shuffle you onto a gurney, you can feel the stickiness of blood from somewhere on your head trickle down your back— soiling the pretty dress namjoon worked so hard to find, the throbbing pain in your left leg becoming too much to bare as you cry out for anyone, anything.

it hurts, god it hurts.

“stay with me, YN, keep th-those eyes open for me? okay baby?” you hear as your vision sways, but the voice is familiar— timbre and warm just like taehyung’s. his cool hands cup your face, brushing through your hair as he limps off the rink with your gurney. “p-please stay awake? baby please...” you know that he’s crying and you know that you’re crying too, but you’re too tired, to sleepy to comply with his wishes. the world is still dark, briefly brightening when you see namjoon from the corner of your eye. he’s gone again and the buzzing world is replaced with the scent of disinfectant and hand sanitizer. there’s arguing, yelling but you can’t see from behind closed eyes.

“she needs surgery!”

“what she needs, is us!”

when you come to, one last time you lock eyes with taehyung’s trusting brown ones, watering on the edge of tears. “i won’t leave you, i promise.”

and with that, you slip away again.

there were certain sounds you liked to hear. like the sound of your skate cutting into thick ice when you landed a jump, taehyung’s sweet singing after a long day of practice or the old romcoms you had playing in your hotel room after a day of competing.

the incessant beeping filling your senses was not a sound you liked.

“it’s my fault, joon. you should have seen her face... it’s like she knew and she trusted me to—“ taehyung cuts through the beeping with a voice filled with worry, his jubilant demeanour having been lost somewhere. your head begins to pound as you remember his skittish sobs, but the memories are blurred still.

namjoon’s voice enters next, interrupting the shaking voice of his boyfriend. “it’s not your fault, how could you have known she’d fall like that? you tripped taehyung, something wasn’t right.”

“but she felt it, we both did—“

“then i’ll take it up with the board, we’ll sue, we’ll— we’ll figure out what happened.” your coach reasoned with his lover, a silence sweeping over the room. you yearned for the comfort you felt eminate between them but when you lift your arm, you realise you’re unable to move— the wires and plugs and breathing machines keeping you strapped to the bed. panic rises in your chest, blocking your air as you struggle to breathe— taehyung is the first to rush to your side, lifting your mask and cradling you into his chest as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

namjoon is on your other side, rubbing a large palm up and down your back and out instantly feel comforted by their presence. hot tears roll down your cheeks, burning in your oesophagus as you claw at the base of your throat.

“shhh, little princess it’s okay— we’ve got you.”

a cup of water is brought to your lips which you quickly gulp down, the cool liquid soothing the ache in your throat. blinking, you cling tightly to taehyung’s cable knit sweater— hesitant to speak due to your unused voice. “wh-what happened?” you manage, unsure if your whispers can be heard above the pounding of your heart. “where...where are we?”

“you were in an accident,” namjoon spoke lowly from above you, taehyung instantly squeezing you closer as memories of the incident flashed behind both of your eyes. a low whimper left your childhood friend’s lips at your wince— squeezing you again as if he could drain your pain away. your coach swears he feels his heart break at the two of you hurting, pressing the buzzer for the nurse as tae cradles you and sliding onto your hospital bed to wrap his larger arms around you both. “something went wrong with the ice and, you fell—“

your fingers curl tighter in your friend’s clothes, as you remember the pain shooting up your leg and burning in the back of your skull. taehyung avoids your eyes this time, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “they checked you for a concussion and your leg...” his baritone voice an octave, a cool quiet seeping into the room. “your leg is broken, but with one more surgery and some physical therapy— you’ll be back on the ice in no time!”

your heart plummets in your chest, you knew what injuries like that did to figure skaters. sure you were young, you had time to recover but even the slightest pause in doing so could cost you your entire life, your career. the pair of lovers that surround you share a grim look, knowing the thoughts that are rushing through your mind.

“we have the best doctors for you, YN, with a few months—“

you blink up at tae with fiery eyes filled with tears, resisting the urge to shove him away. “i don’t have a few months, tae! training for the olympics is what i should be doing!” you hiccup, starting to choke on tears you refuse to let shed. “i need to be out there on that ice, or i’m useless, i need to—“

you make movements to step out of bed, sucking in your lower lip as a dull ache rests in your bones. the pair are quick to pull you back into bed, but your hands scold them with slaps as you push them away. you have no right to be angry at them, but you know that they understand. taehyung seems to be calmer now, despite the hurt that tickles his puppy dog features at your resistance, he does his best to comfort you.

but a prominent scowl yearns for the curve of namjoon’s lips, your coach falling deep in thought.

“you’re suspended from skating.”

“wh-what?” you stammer, eyes burning with a fresh set of tears for the third or fourth time that night. this time, your partner stands, looking to his lover in confusion and standing with his hands resting on your shoulders comfortingly.

he speaks hesitantly. “now joon...”

“no, taehyung,” your coach sighs, remaining stern. it kills him to make this choice, but there’s no other way— at least not for now. “LN YN will be suspended from all physical skating activities until she has made a full recovery with a hired physical therapist...” the words pierce straight into your heart, tearing you apart from the inside. you want to scream and cry and kick and protest but you’re too numbed from pain and betrayal to speak or move. “legal action will be taken up with the board responsible for the competition but until then, you will not touch the ice. understand?”

you blink, numb.

“YN, i said, do you understand?” namjoon repeats, steeling his gaze. he hates this, he hates hurting both you and his love.

you nod once, looking away whilst tae rubs circles into your shoulders. his lover mentions something about a coffee before slipping out of the room... and that’s when you breakdown. you cry, heavy ugly tears with a running nose that you’re sure stains your best friends sweater as he rocks you back and forth into the night.

you cry until your spark is dull, you cry until your chest burns and until your eyes are dry. you cry because you’ve lost your purpose in life.

⇢ taglist ! ( comment, like or dm to be added! )

@periminkle @ggukkieland @aishots @ownthesunshine @codeinebelle @taeass @trviahope @singular-itae @preciouschimine @yoongismykink @idiakh @honeyspillings @kimsdior @chimshoe @cypherft-v @tangledsparkles

259 notes · View notes

hikari-writes · 4 years

Text

『Boku No Hero Academia』

Crack Headcanon

↬ Bakusquad & you on a ghost hunt

Pairing: Bakusquad; Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijiro, Kaminari Denki, Ashido Mina, Sero Hanta

Warning: Cursing, a bit spoopy, a bit on the crack side

Genre: Crack

Words: 714

A/N: ok so i was watching nuke's top 5 vid abt 5 scary videos and i saw this one vid of a youtuber (cant rmmbr his name) abt how he and his mom kept getting haunted by ghosts whenever they go, and in one scene he was wavinv his hands at an empty chair that just moved on its own and somehow i kinda find it funny like he was trying to see whether he can touch the ghost lmao so yeah, that part i wrote is based of his video. Also its spooky month! So im in the mood to made smthng like thiss,, (also can someeone recommend scary stories videos on yt plisss)

➳ Literally the only reason Bakugou was doing this was because Sero provoked him saying he was a scaredy-cat

➳ And yes, Sero may or may not almost was blasted away by Bakugou but that’s not important

➳ He got Bakugou to go with you guys

➳ Plus Bakugou’s driving because yes

➳ Oh and

➳ On the way to the supposedly “haunted” and abandoned house, you KNOW Kaminari and Kirishima ain’t gonna shut up about it

➳ They’re gonna be like,

➳ “WE’RE GONNA HUNT SOME GHOSTSSS, WE’RE GONNA HUNT SOME GHOSTSSSSS OOOOOHHHHH”

➳ They would sing some made up song

➳ My god

➳ You had to admit it was amusing and fun to listen to

➳But it did get annoying over time

➳ Even Mina who joined in at first already got tired of it

➳ Bakugou even threatened to throw them off the car if they don’t shut up

➳ Eventually they did

➳ When you finally arrived, you started recording your adventure

➳ Bakugou tried to hide it but you can literally see him gripping his flashlight a little bit too hard

➳ And you bet your ass that Kaminari's gonna recite one of the lines from buzzfeed unsolved episode

➳ "Hey demons! If you wanna eat my heart, turn that light on."

➳ And obviously there would be no response since the light bulb is broken in the first place, but Kaminari was like,

➳ "I think this demon's a wimp."

➳ "Kaminari, the light bulb is fucking broken."

➳ When you went to what seemed like a dining room, suddenly one of the chairs moved on itself away from the table

➳ Yes, you guys panicked, and yes, Bakugou's soul might've left his body for a moment

➳ “OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!”

➳ You and Mina were holding each other, Sero and Kirishima’s faces were pale but they still managed to keep their cool, Kaminari recorded the whole shit, both excited and scared at the same time

➳ And Bakugou’s already passed out (only in his mind though)

➳ Then Kaminari went to the chair and wave his arm there, as if trying to grab something unseen

➳ “Kaminari, what are you doing---”

➳ “Trying to see whether I can touch the ghost or not.”

➳ He then pushed the chair away from its position but not even a moment after that, the chair moved back on itself to its original position

➳ “FUCK!” Kaminari yelled

➳ And yes, many shit goes down after that but fortunately (or maybe unfortunately idk u decide) you didn’t see anything else

➳ Just some minor things like things moving on its own and stuff

➳ You might wanna rewatch your recordings if you thought you didn’t see any ghosts though----

➳ After you all finally went outside you were sweating like crazy

➳ “Phew! That’s quite the adventure, huh guys?”

➳ You said to the guys who seemed pretty worn out

➳ Especially Bakugou

➳ “That...was….AMAZING!! WHO WANNA GO AGAIN! I’M GONNA RECORD IT AGAIN AND POST IT ON THE INTERNET!”

➳ Kaminari enthusiastically said and although at first Mina, Sero and Kirishima were reluctant, they agreed in the end after Kaminari used his convincing not persuasion skill

➳ And yes, you were actually the first to agree to do it again

➳ Bakugou had just about enough of this shit and he refused to join

➳ Honestly he doesn’t even care anymore if you guys think he’s a scaredy cat or anything, he just wants to go back home at this point

➳ Also since he cared about you guys and doesn’t want you guys to be cursed or anything, whenever he knew you guys were about to go ghost hunting, he would sabotage your car

➳ Every. Single. Time.

➳ Eventually you guys gave up

➳ *cue Bakugou smirking in victory in the background*

➳ But then one fateful day

➳ Kaminari came bursting through your door and said,

➳ “Forget about ghosts. There’s been sightings of Bigfoot at Salt Fork State Park.”

➳ “That’s in the United States. Are we gonna fly there just to search for a Bigfoot who may or may not even exist?”

➳ “We’re gonna fly there just to search for a Bigfoot who may or may not even exist.”

➳ “You’re crazy,” you said as you got up from your seat and went to your bedroom

➳ “But I’m crazier,” you get out of your bedroom with travelling equipments on your hands

➳ Bakugou has already given up on you guys at this point

#haha look at me being funny #spooktober #bnha fanfiction #bnha bakusquad #bakusquad x reader #boku no hero academia bakugou #boku no hero academia kirishima #boku no hero academia mina #boku no hero academia sero #boku no hero academia kaminari #kaminari headcanons #kirishima headcanon #sero headcanons #bakugou headcanons #mina headcanons #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

86 notes · View notes

glassartpeasants · 4 years

Text

Dead to Me

Neito Monoma x Reader

Warnings: Angst, suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, this gets dark so read at your own risk guys

A/N: Like i said this is one of the darker things iv’e wrote on this so blog so far. Not for the faint of heart.

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

You sat in the cafeteria looking across the head of your fellow classmates to see your boyfriend Monoma sitting with his own class. You tried to catch his attention but it proved to be a failure.

“Well that didnt work...” You saw with a grumpy look on your face.

“Man how did you even end up dating him (y/n)? He’s an asshole to the entire Class of 1A!” Your friend Mina said as she gave you a little pout.

“I dont know he just ended up asking me out and now we’re dating!” You said happily. Even though Monoma could be a bit much sometimes you still loved him with your entire being.

You turn your head again to see to bright baby blue eyes looking at you. You smile and wave at him waiting for him to wave back. You hand slowly went down as you saw him laughing and pointing at you.

You never head good self esteem so your mind immediately went to thinking that he was making fun of you. Your cheeky smile turning into a small frown as you glanced again to see him still laughing.

‘Maybe he’s just laughing at someone else?’ You thought to yourself, trying to convince your mind that he wouldnt make fun of you. He loved you...

Right?

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

A few days after the cafeteria incident you had begun to notice that Monoma was starting to hang out with you less and less. You wanted to ask him about it but you didnt want to be seen as clingy. So you just suffered in silence as you watched him slowly drift away from you. Your head sending you all the signals to ask him, but your heart wanted to believe that there was a good reason to why he was doing it.

You were walking towards the 1A Class when some upperclassman decided it would be funny to pick on you.

“Wow would you look at this little baby! How did someone so usless get into a school such as UA?” Him and his buddies only laughed as you try to stutter out an insult. You turn your head towards the door and see Monoma walking out, you tried to get his attention, which worked this time but instead of helping you he only turned his head and walked towards his classroom. You turn your gaze back to the upperclassman before getting a quick slap to the face by one of them.

“Speak when spoken to bitch.”

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

The bullying from the upperclassman had started to really take a toll on your mental health. You would try to do anything in your power to avoid them but they always found you. You wanted to tell the teachers but you were afraid they would believe you. They planted that thought in your brain as you slowly believed them.

You begged Monoma to walk you to class, hoping if he saw the fear in your eyes he would listen. Much to your dismay he didn’t.

You would always come to class with some sort of new bruise on your body. Everyone started to worry about you, they slowly started to think Monoma was abusing you. Which you said wasn’t the case. When asked who did it, you tensed up and froze in fear, worrying that they may be near.

You finally told someone about it when you were hanging out with Jirou. She had asked you what was going and you finally told her what was happening. And everything that has been happening with Monoma. She looked at you and gave you a nice bone crushing hug as she asked you why you didnt tell anyone.

“I was afraid they wouldn’t believe me..”

“Oh (v/n)...were going to report them. Im not standing by and watch as you get hurt!”

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

A few weeks have passed since then and things were finally starting to be looking up! The upperclassmen who were bullying you had gotten expelled since, ‘bullying is not what hero’s do’. You were finally able to walk the halls with being in constant fear again. Your mental health still wasnt at its peak but it was slowly getting better!

But only one more thing still wasn’t looking brighter. And that was your relationship with Monoma. He kept on acting the same way, maybe even worse then before! As much as you hated the feeling you had started to grow bitter. Why was he ignoring you? What did you do to make him pissed at you?

You finally swallowed your anxiety and went up to talk to him. Taking a deep breath as you went up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. You were the only one’s in the hallway.

“Hey Monoma..did i..did i do something wrong?” You said trying to sound confident.

“What do you mean?” He asked. You sense a hint of smugness in his voice.

“Like you’ve been ignoring me all this week...what happened i thought we were doing-”

“Ah ah ah ah, im going to stop your right there. You see my dear our little ‘relationship’ was all but a dare.” Your eyes widen as sadness washed over you like a tidal wave. That couldn’t be tu\rue he said that he had loved you..was it all just a lie?

“W-what? B-b-but i thought y-you-”

“Well you thought wrong dear (y/n).” A snicker after his words. Your eyes swelled up with tears before pushing away from Monoma and running back to the dorms. Not caring if you missed class.

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

You sat in your dorm, crying your soul out. You had loved him and told him secrets that no one else knew. You thought he truly loved you. The more you thought about it the more it hurt. You felt like your whole world came crashing down. Your tears burning your face as they kept coming.

Ding!

You looked down at your phone to see a text from Kirishima asking why you weren’t in class today. You could see the text message with it counting as reading it. You have to click on the app to do that. You throw your phone to the other side of your bed before laying back down and crying some more.

Once you woke up from your nap, the thoughts came rushing back again. What if they were just like Monoma? What if they were only your friends because of a dare too?

All those thoughts running through your head at inhumane speeds, until one stayed still.

What if you just ended it?

Your heart stopped at the thought. Why would your brain even think about that? But no matter how hard you tried to forget the said thought more and more voices plowed there way through your head filling it with horrible thoughts. Slowly picking at your insecurities. Feasting on your every flaw. You slowly get up from your tear stained bed. And you look at yourself in the mirror.

Fat

Ugly

Worthless

All but a dare

The last thought hit you like a brick as you fall to the floor with your head in your knees.

Your quirk was called Frost. You pretty much had the power to manipulate Frost. Meaning everything you touched would become covered in an a sheet of ice. That why you had to wear gloves, kinda like Shigaraki you needed to have all five fingers on said target for your power to work.

You just stared at your hand, tracing over every curve and looking at it with deep intensity. Before you could do anything else you put all five fingers on your ankle, causing your ankle begin to have a sheet of ice covering it. The frost started to quickly spread around your body and onto the floor. You head you head in your knees as you felt your body heat lower, the Ice completely claiming your body as one. A single tear slipped down your face before your entire body and room was covered in a layer of ice. Your phone buzzing with texts from worried classmates.

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

After class had ended practically the entire class of 1A ran to their dorms to find you. You never missed a class.

As soon as they entire the dorms they all shivered. It had to be below zero in there. As they hugged themselves tightly they walked up to your room. As the tried to knock and upon the door they had realized the handle had been frozen solid. Bakugo having enough time worrying blasted the door open with his quirk. Everyone gasped as they saw your frozen form on the other side of the wall. They were quick to grab you out of the ice and bring you to Mr. Aizawa.

Once they reached him, he asked what happened. Which they all replied with i dont know. You were quickly taken to the nearest hospital everyone doing their best to thaw you out of your frozen cocoon.

Once at the hospital your body had been completely thawed out and was ready to be put in EC unit. You body temp was so low that they put every heater they had in the room.

The nurse looked at the class and told them that if they were a minute later you would have died from hypothermia.

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

Monoma walked into school the next and was met with angry and ugly looks the entire time.

‘They hell did i do?’ He thought to himself. You never once crossed his mind.

Liar

After he said those things to you the look of betrayal and sadness in your eyes shot a spike of guilt through his chest. Before he could say anything you had run out of the building.

Now here he was the day after you got put in the hospital reciving ugly looks from everyone.

“Hey Kendo do you know what everyone is talking about?” The blonde boy asked his ginger friend.

“Wait, you didnt hear? (y/n) is in the hospital. Apparently they tried to commit suicide. Sad right?” A wave of guilt, sadness, and disgust completely takes over his body.

How could he live with himself knowing what he did to you? That he made you take that dark path.

News Flash he couldn’t.

The next day the blonde boy walked up the he hospital you resided at and getting ready to see you.

Once he saw your lifeless form he dashed his way to the bed to slowly stroke your hair. Sitting on a chair to get closer to you before hearing you wake up.

You slowly turn to Monoma, your eyes once filled with happiness was now full of hate and disgust.

“What are you doing here?” You snapped at the boy. Disgust evident in your voice.

“i just came to say-”

“Leave.”

“What?” Your words shushed him as he looked at you with wide eyes was he tried to grab your cheek to make you look at him.

“You heard me leave. I never want to see you again you understand Neito Monoma?” You looked him right in those blue eyes you use to love so much and said something you could never go back on.

“Your dead to me.”

#monoma neito #mha angst #bnha angst #neito x reader #monoma x reader #mha monoma #mha x reader #mha #dark theme #bnha

289 notes · View notes

thewolfisapartofmysoul · 4 years

Text

Hey lovelies,

I got an Dewey Finn x artsy reader for y'all.

The reader crafts this special thing for our Rockstar... fluff ahead.

Hope you enjoy. 💜

Masterpiece

It was a warm summer-day, Nirvana blasted in the background of your appartment when you painted. You wiped your sweaty hairline with a sigh. Glad you decided to put it up in a bun. That way your neck would be cooler, and it also helped you to keep your locks paint-free.

....

You watched your smeared hands and paint stains that covered your overalls. Wel... at last it wasn't in your hair.

You had been painting for about 4 hours now, and you finally managed to step back and be happy with your work. Not often was you pleased with what you created, but since this was gonna be a gift for Dewey... it had to be the best of the best. It had to be absolutely perfect. Your sweet baby deserved nothing less.

You had this idea for quite some time now. But today you finally managed to actually do it.

The idea hit you after the gig-ritual the two of you created.

Dewey came home after a gig a couple of weeks ago and tiredly slumped on the couch with you. Lovingly admiring your sleeping form on the couch.

You always tried to wait up for him, to talk to him about his gig and cuddle. But more often then not, sleep got the better of you. You gave up the battle and fell asleep on te couch.

Multiple times you were woken up by Dewey carrying you to bed while you mumbled an apology for falling asleep while waiting up. Again.

He'd put you in bed, pressed a kiss on your hair and told you it was fine. He crawled in the bed, snuggling closer to you and you would drift off to sleep again. Dewey mumbled how much he had missed you, just before you closed your eyes. You would fall asleep in Deweys warm, comforting embrace.

This was not the ritual you intended most of the time, but it was a nice one nevertheless.

The thought hit you one night, the moment you touched the bed, after Dewey carried you upstairs again. He sighed and mumbled in your hair: "Thanx for waiting up sweetheart... I've missed you so much today."

You decided that he'd miss you less if he carried a piece of you around him, during his gigs, when he rocked the roof of.

Your last thought before drifting off that night had been: Im gonna fix him a special guitar...

That week you ordered a brand new electric guitar for Dewey online, and decided to put your own fingerprints on them... (quite literally). You personally had hand-painted the instrument. A little reminder that he always had a piece of you with him, even when you were not physically around.

You always got a little lost timewise when you touched paintbrushes, and you were startled by the sound of the front door opening. Dewey called when he closed the door: "Hey baby... Im home!"

Shit! Is it already that late?!

You panicked and your eyes darted around the mess in the room. A small explosion would have been a good summary of the scenery in front of you. Paintbrushes and paint scrambled across the floor, old rags to wipe the brushes lay everywhere and you were seated in the middle of the living room, on the ground. The guitar lay behind you, it still had to dry because of the wet paint on it.

There was no way you could keep this a suprise for Dewey. You couldnt even hide the guitar, cause it was still wet...

Damn it!

You realised too late that Nirvana rocking through the speakers would lead him into the living room even faster.

"Hey... babe?" You heared Dewey ask, his footsteps coming closer and you decided: fuck it. No turning back now.

You quickly turned around to face the door, sitting there cross legged and a bit anxcious for a second untill Dewey's happy face appeared in the doorway.

Pleasedontbemad, pleasethinkitscool, Please for the love of the rock gods... just... like it...

His bright brown eyes found yours and he threw a beaming smile your way. "There you are, my little picasso..." Dewey took a step in your direction, pressed a kiss on your hair and mumbled to you "... I still don't know how you managed to do so beautifull, but you got some purple paint in your hair. Again." He chuckled and darted his eyes around the room as he took in the chaos. "If i didn't knew you any better I'd say that you were going for the: mad painter vibe dear... Chaotically perfect. As alway-"

His scentence died abruptly in his throath when he lied eyes on the instrument behind you. His face was shocked, his mouth hang agape slightly and he squeeled. He excitedly bounced over to where you were sitting and a high pitched noise escaped his throath.

"What the fuckeroni is this beauty of a guitar doing here???!!" Dewey managed to croak out in a hoarse squeel. Still bouncing up and down and he ruffled his brown curls in amazement. A smile so bright that it could break his face in half, appeared on his features and he fixated his gaze on you.

Doubt started to creep up your spine as he unmovingly stared into your eyes for a minute. His eyes darted from the guitar, to you and back.

You couldnt take the insecurity any longer and bashfully asked: "Erhm... Dew... are you okay? I... im sorry if i... i dont mean to... erhm... if you dont like it... please tell me..."

You were shut up by Deweys strong arms pulling you up at your waist. Before you could protest or even yelp at the sudden movement his lips crashed on yours. His hands rested on your waist. Between kisses dewey breathed against your lips: "sweetheart... i LOVE it!!!"

He kissed you again, and again and again. Untill you couldnt properly trace his lips anymore, Dewey was a happy, bouncy, excited mess and it was hard to kiss a bouncingball.

You smiled fondly and Dewey rambled on how excited he was, still bouncing around the room. "Baby... you made this??? Its so sick! Its gonna shred faces even before i touched a singe string. Its so beautifull. Its..."

He stopped bouncing and crouched down beside the guitar, suddenly very quiet.

On the side was scribbled: "For my bouncy oddball of a Dewdrop. Rock on...." after the scribble of text he noticed a finferprint. Your fingerprint.

He turned his head towards you and you scratched your elbow, afraid you had overdone it. Your eyes darted to the floor as insecurity crept its way in your chest.

Dewey stood up, very slowly and walked towards you. You didn't dare too look at him untill his deep voice said your name. His voice sweet and caring, made all your doubt wash away.

Your eyes found his and you notices his beautifull brown eyes were gleaming with emotion. His gaze pure adoration and love, acceptence and amazement, when he took your hands.

He smiled through his whirlwind of emotion and reached out to brush his calloused fingers against your cheek, kissed you sweetly on the lips and pulled you in a tight hug.

Holding on like you were his only anchor in the world.

You revelled into the hug and his presence and reached out to comb your hand through his brown messy curls.

You heared him take a deep breath and felt his chest rise and fall against yours. You mumbled against the crook of his neck quietly: "I did it so you dont have to miss me as much on your gigs, Dew... This way you'll always have me with you. Even when im not around."

Dewey slowly pulled back from your embrace and gazed into your eyes. Your hands still tangled at the back of his neck, teasing the hairs there.

His nose rested against yours and he mumbled "...Thank you, beautifull... its... beautifull... almost as beautifull as you..."

He kissed your cheek, his scruff tickled under your cheekbone and he brushed his thumb over the kissed area.

"Its beautifully chaotic and serene at the same time... just like you, dear."

Dewey kissed your lips again softly and when he pulled back he chuckled: "Hey love...?"

You smirked: "Yeah Dew?"

He replied with a soft voice: "...You painted yourself a bit too. Again."

You scoffed at his comment. Of course you did. Again.

Dewey mischievously guided you closer by the straps of your overalls. His thumb brushed your cheekbone again, where he just kissed you. Dewey put his hands on your lower back and continued with a whisper: "No need to paint yourself, love... you are already a masterpiece..."

@ironmansuucks @paxenera @heknowshisherbs @hoodoo12 @large-unit @little-miss-shy-goth @thats-specific @vicunaburger @go-commander-kim @stranger-strings @gegehaddock @bugdrinkss

#soft dewey finn #dewey finn imagine #dewey x reader #dewey finn #dewey finn fanfic #dewey finn fanfiction #dewey finn x fem!reader #dewey finn x you #dewey finn x reader #dewey finn imagines #school of rock broadway #school of rock the musical #school of rock fanfiction #school of rock #alex brighty brightmann brightening up your day #alex brightman #bouncy oddball #myownfic #artsy

93 notes · View notes

chaoticdisater · 4 years

Text

Red white & royal Blue Favourite quotes

“How many times do I have to tell Y’all not to discuss your murder plots in front of a sitting president” their mother interrupts “Plausible deniability. Come on” (Pg 64)

I don't know WHO you think you're kidding, you Hufflepuff-ass bitch, (Alex to henry over text pg 69)

“‘put the turkeys in my room’ ‘No.’ ‘put them in my room, put them in my room, put them in my room -’ later that night as Alex stares into the cold pitiless eyes of a prehistoric beast of prey, he has a few regrets” (Alex and his mother Pg 76)

“’he- Oi! Not for you Mr.wobbles! those are mine!’ more rustling and a distant offended Meow, ‘no, Mr. wobbles you bastard!’” (Henry at his sister's cat, pg 80)

“Dec 8, 2019, 8:53 PM yo there's a bond marathon on and did you know your dad was a total babe HRH prince Dickhead I BEG YOU TO NOT “ (Henry and Alex over text Pg 84)

“’ the options Id like...’ he says dragging the words out. ‘they don't quite seem to be options at all’” (Henry Pg 107)

“’ christ you're a thick as it gets’ he says and he grabs Alex's face in both hands and kisses him.” (Henry Pg 107)

“‘Seventy-eight percent probability of latent Bi-sexual tendencies. one hundred percent probability this is not a hypothetical question’” (Nora pg 118)

“‘am I? do you think I'm Bi?’ ‘I can't tell you that Alex!’ she says ‘that's the whole point!’” (Alex and Nora Pg121)

“she slants a look at him ‘is this a diabolical scheme of seduction?’ she asks ‘if so, yes.’“ (Nora Pg 130)

“Alex knocks the candelabra off the table next to them and pushes henry onto it so hes sitting with his back against - Alex looks up and almost breaks into a deranged laugh - a portrait of alexander hamilton.” (Pg 132)

“‘im going to die’ henry says helplessly. ‘im going to kill you,’ Alex tells him.” (Henry and Alex pg 133)

‘”and if you fucking ghost me again, I'm going to get you put on a fucking no-fly list. got it’” (Alex at henry pg 134)

“worst of all, Henry is good“ (Alex's thoughts on henry playing Polo Pg 147)

“’I’m gonna go, Uh’ Alex says ‘say hi to henry’ Amy's mouth settles into a grim line ‘Please don't elaborate’ ‘Yeah I know’ Alex says ‘plausible deniability’” (Alex and Amy Pg 148)

‘A <[email protected]> to Henry his royal highness prince of whatever, Don't make me learn your actual title’ (Alex’s email to henry Pg 152)

‘Henry <[email protected]> to A Alex, first son of inappropriately timed Emails when I’m in early morning meetings’ (Henry’s email to Alex Pg 155)

“when he shows up to a briefing two days later Zahra grabs his jaw with one hand and turns his head, peering closer at the side of his neck. ‘is that a Hickey’ Alex freezes. ‘I . . . um, no?’” (Zahra and Alex pg 162)

“‘Do you have a last name?’ Alex has never actually offered a greeting when calling Henry ‘What?’ the usual bemused elongated one-syllable response” (163 Alex and henry over the phone)

“‘Baby’ its become a thing: Baby he knows it’s become a thing. hes slipped up and accidentally said it a few times, and each time, Henry positively melts” (Alex Pg 166)

“‘I miss you,’ Alex says before he can stop himself he instantly regrets ut but henry says. ‘I miss you too’” (pg 173)

“she flung her arm out emphatically enough to upset an entire potted cactus on her dresser and says ‘Because until now you weren't fucking the prince of England’” (June pg 177)

“‘you should try saying some of that stuff to Him’ ‘stop trying to Jane Austen my life’” (June and Alex Pg 180)

“’ is now a good time to point out henrys very hot Very rich best friend is basically in love with you?’ Alex says to June ‘hes like some kind of billionaire genius manic-pixie-dream philanthropist. I feel like you would be into that.’ ‘Please shut up,’” (Alex and June Pg 182)

“‘yes, yes, Pez, we know there's nothing you cant do,’ says henrys voice off-camera ‘no need to rub it in’“ (henry Pg 184)

“‘oh I haven't had vodka since uni,’ henry says ‘it tends to make me erm, well-’ ‘flamboyant?’ Pez offers. ‘uninhibited? randy?’ ‘Fun?’ Bea suggests ‘Excuses you, I am loads of fun all the time! I am a Delight’“ (Henry Bea and Pez pg 190)

“’yes Beatrice, we shall behave in a manner befitting the crown,’ henry says. his eyes are slightly crossed ‘don't be a tosser’“ (Henry and bea Pg 195)

“He likes taking henry apart but there's something incredibly intantament about sitting on the bed they wrecked the night before, the only one who watches him create Prince Henry of Wales for the day.” (Pg 200)

“‘So this is the gang now, huh?’ and through it all, Alex realizes with a start: he has friends now.” (Cash pg 201)

“How is a man to get anything done knowing Alex Claremont-Diaz is out there on the loose?” (Henrys email to Alex pg 203)

“yours in sexual frustration Henry” (henrys email to Alex pg 206)

“once again, how had he ever convinced himself he was straight,” (Alex pg 213)

“‘just so we’re clear,’ Alex said ‘Im about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family. Like that's what's happening?’“ (Alex pg 217)

“your Brave I could use some of that” (Pg 218)

“Because that's what he would do if he were here in this palace to fall in love Henry” (Pg 220)

“Zahra doesnt even look up from her phone ‘that was my boyfriend and no, you may not ask me any further questions about him’” (Zahra Pg 223)

“If he’s some anonymous normal person removed from history he’s twenty-two and he’s tipsy and he’s pulling a guy into his hotel room by the belt loop. He’s pulling a lip between his teeth and he fumbling behind his back to switch on a lamp and he’s thinking I like this person” (Pg 228)

“You still are. Because you still bloody care so much.” He leans down and presses a kiss into Alex’s hair. “And you are good. Most things are awful most of the time but you’re good” (Henry Pg 230)

“’Seriously?’ She hisses ‘your literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state who is a man at the biggest political event before the election in a hotel full of reporters in a city full of cameras in a race close enough to fucking hinge on some bullshit like this like a manifestation of my fucking stress dreams and you’re asking me not to tell the president about it?’” (Zarha pg 233)

“The next slide is titled EXPLORING YOUR SEXUALITY: HEALTHY BUT DOES IT HAVE TO BE WITH THE PRINCE ENGLAND? she apologizes for not having time to come up with better titles Alex activity wishes for the sweet release of death” (Pg 237)

“History huh? I bet we could make some.” (Alex’s email to henry Pg 241)

“The pair of you share and an alarming number of traits by the by: passionate determination, never knowing when to shut up, &c &c,” (herny’s email to Alex Pg 242)

“Regards Haplessly romantic heretic prince henry the utterly daft” (henrys email to Alex pg 243)

“‘It’s math,’ Nora says ‘Math has no authority here,’ June tells her ‘Math is everywhere June’” (Nora and June Pg 247)

“Henry is tipsy and shirtless and attempting to referee” (pg 252)

“’Some times you just jump and hope it’s not a chiff’” (Alex dad Pg 256)

“Well, Alex is so in love he could die.” (Pg 257)

“He’s been falling in love with Henry for years probably since he first saw him in glossy print on the pages of j14 almost definitely since Henry pinned Alex to the floor of a medical supply closet and told him to shut the hell up.” (Pg 257)

“’Fuck off five nine is average’” (Pg 258)

“’H?’ He whispers ‘you awake?’ Henry sighs ‘always.’” ( Pg 260)

“He’s got a distinct feeling of something being pulled out of his hands right before he could grasp it.” (Pg 263)

“something rises in Alex's throat - anger, confusion, hurt, bile. Unforgivably, he feels like he might cry” (Pg 270)

“’Fuck I swear you don’t make it fucking easy but I’m in love with you’” (Alex Pg 271)

“’I never thought I’d be stood here faced with a choice I can’t make because I never ... I never imagined you would love me back’” (Henry pg 273)

“He’s in Henry’s face now if he’s getting his heart broken tonight he’s sure as hell going to make Henry have the guts to do it right ‘tell me you're done with me. I’ll get back on the plane. that's it. and you can live here in your tower and be miserable forever, write a whole book of sad fucking poems about it, whatever just say it’” (274)

“He’s in stupid unbearable love and Henry loves him too and at least for one night it matters, even if they both have to pretend to forget in the morning” (Pg 275)

“He tells his too fast brain: don’t miss this time he’s too important” (Alexs thoughts Pg 275)

“henry’s hands-on him are unhurried and soft and they make out lazily for hours or days.” (Pg 280)

“Alex sighs ‘i don't think I told you but she uh. well, when she fired me she told me that if I wasn't a thousand percent serious about you. I need to break things off.’ Henry nuzzles his nose behind Alex's ear ‘a thousand percent?’” (Alex and Henry Pg 282)

“‘Diaz you insane hopeless romantic little shit’ says the voice of the president of the united states, muffled in the bed ‘it had better be forever. Be safe’“ (Pg 284)

“hes cut off mid-sentence because Alex has stopped in the middle of the corridor and yanked him backwards into a kiss” (pg 286)

“’its funny’ henry says ‘i always thought of the whole thing as the most unforgivable thing about me but you act like its one of the best’“ (henry Pg 289)

“he takes the chain off his neck and slides the ring on next to the old house key. they click together gently as he tucks them both under his shirt, two homes side by side” (Pg 291)

“I opened my blasted mouth and said ‘because I'm not like the rest of the men in this family beginning with the fact that I'm am very deeply gay Philip’ once shaan managed to dislodge him from the chandelier Philip had quite a few words for me,” (Henry’s emails to Alex Pg 298)

“just leaving, not coming back. maybe burning something down on the way out. it would be nice.” (henrys emails to Alex pg 299)

“I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire” (henrys emails to Alex (describing how he felt when he first saw Alex) Pg 300)

“20. the fact that you have loved me all along.” (alex’s email to henry (the list of things alex loves about henry) Pg 303)

“‘Oh my god Z what is That? did you get engaged?’ Zahra looks down at the ring and shrugs. ‘i had the week-end off’” (June and Zahra pg 305)

“’you and me and history, remember? were just gonna fucking fight. because your it okay? Im never gonna love anybody in the world like i love you,’“ (Alex pg 312)

“‘I swear to god if you say I'm too young I'm gonna lose my shit,’“ (Alex pg 315)

“What did he do ‘be more specific’“ (Alex to Zahra pg 321 )

“’the president is sitting down with as many members of the office of communitcs we could drag out of bed at three in the morning’” (Zahra Pg 323)

“‘pack a bag’ she says ‘we’re going to londan’” (Zahra Pg 334)

“she (Zarha) seems confident Shaan will agree to it and willing to physically overpower him if not.” (pg 334)

“still the cocky shit head part of him is slightly pleased to finally have claim on henry. Yep, the prince? Most eligible bachelor in the world? British accent face like a greek god, legs for days? Mine” (Pg 336)

“‘youre giving my ulcer an ulcer’“ (Zahra pg 336)

“‘Im running on nothing but black coffee, a wetzels pretzel, and a fistful of B12. Do not even breathe in my directrion,’“ (Zahra Pg 339)

“He leans up and kisses the underside of his jaw, finding it rough from a full fitful day,” (pg 340)

“‘What kind of family, that says we’ll take the murder, we’ll take the raping and pillaging and the colonizing, well scrub it up nice and neat in a museum but oh no you’re a bloody poof? That’s beyond our sense of decorum’” (Henry pg 347)

“Bea seizes the pot of tea from the center of the table and dumps it into his lap ‘Oh, I’m terribly sorry Pip’ she says grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him sputtering and yelping toward the door ‘so deardfully clumsy, you know I think all that cocaine I did must have really done a job on my refexes!’” (Bea pg 357)

“Henry pulls Alex close and kisses him whispers, ‘I love you I love you I love you’ and it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees.” (Pg 358)

And that’s when I gave up I do have more but well I didn’t want to make this list any more

#alex claremont diaz #henry got to many names for me to remeber #prince henry of wales #red white and royal blue

66 notes · View notes