#so many teens !!!!! fuck yeah man

[pommy-granite]

I gave a bunch of free haircuts at pride today and one of the kids that wanted a haircut was called Elmex......like the toothpaste....nature is healing I <3 Gay People

[coridallasmultipass]

.

[thecherrygod]

Hm

[xi-vz]

Shen Yuan stared up at the man, disbelief clear on his face.

The man before him huffed a laugh, brown eyes becoming crescent shaped with amusement. He was a little taller than Shen Yuan, a little broader, with a sleeve tattoo covering his right arm to his wrist. His dark brown hair was softly curled, more wavy, and a little shaggy, falling to his shoulders. His face reminding Shen Yuan of Binghe. Not a lot, but just enough if he were to tilt his head and squint.

“You’re just a kid.” When the man finally spoke his voice was as smooth as velvet. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.” Shen Yuan automatically responded as he gawked.

The man had round wire glasses, a piercing on the left side of his lower lip, both ears were pierced, and he had cheekbones that belonged on a magazine cover. He was a little older than Shen Yuan expected. Somewhere in his late-twenties compared to Shen Yuans late teens.

“Cucumber-Bro, come on, I’m not that different.” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky offered a smile, showing off dimples underneath a days worth of scruff.

“How old are you?” Shen Yuan demanded, still blocking the doorway into the dorm.

“Thirty.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Shen Yuan asked aloud.

Seriously, this was the caffeine addicted crack-writer?!

When Shen Yuan had woken up back in his dorm room instead of in bed with his husband in the bamboo house, he immediately contacted Airplane—it was a gamble, but it paid off. The relief Shen Yuan felt when Airplane responded was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He gave the other man his phone number and address, then waited an excruciating five days until the two could meet. (Because Shen Yuan lived in Beijing, but Airplane apparently lived in Chengdu, and last minute flights weren’t cheap.)

Shen Yuan knew that his friend would look different. Hell, Shen Yuan looked different! A little shorter, a little rounder, way younger. With pitch black eyes, short inky black hair, and an ear piercing. He was pretty rather than handsome, softer than Shen Qingqiu.

And it wasn’t that Shang Qinghua wasn’t handsome—he was! Like everyone else in PIDW. But Airplane?

“Can I come in?” Airplane asked while shoving his hands into his back pockets. He wasn’t dressed fashionably. His beat up backpack was slung carelessly over a shoulder, jeans were ripped due to wear and tear, his faded band shirt was due to too many washes, his sneakers were scuffed. And yet…

Shen Yuan dressed in the latest fashion. He tried his best to look good, he had standards for himself! He looked like a C-Pop star.

Airplane wasn’t even trying to be hot. (WHY WAS HE SO HOT?!)

It shook something inside of Shen Yuan. All of his past theories of Airplane being a troll flew out the window.

“Well?” Airplane looked like he wasn’t above shoving past his friend to get in.

Shen Yuan allowed his friend inside, still shook.

“Shang Qinghua.”

“What?”

“My name, bro.”

“Wait…you used your actual name for the character closest to Mobei!? Fucking Mary-Sue!”

“Ah, there we go, there’s the Peerless Cucumber I know. Although it’s weird to hear such vitriol from a face so cute.”

Shen Yuan felt the blood rush to his face and wished he had a fan in his hands to use as a weapon when Airplane chuckled.

“Come on, let’s try to figure out how to get back home,” Shang Qinghua said as he moseyed to the desk in the room.

Shen Yuan sighed as he closed and locked the door.

BONUS:

SY: I thought you said you were a broke university student who wrote to make sure food was on the table.

SQH: Yeah, dude. I’m working on my dissertation. Writing pays the bills.

SY: YOU’RE GETTING YOUR DOCTORATES?????

SQH: Yeah, in Topology.

SY: YOU’RE GETTING YOUR DOCTORATES IN MATHS?????

[softfem-dom]

the four times they asked about his sidekick, and the one time he realized why. (pt.1)

worst!logan + d&w!deadpool x suicidal!reader

a/n : okay this is sad and emotion-driven asf, so if you're sensitive to suicide mentions or emotional trumoil and problems of self-worth please do not continue reading this. Also warning for suicide description for the other universes' sidekicks. first part out of five!

wc : 2k

TW FOR SUICIDE , TW FOR DEPRESSION , SOFT!WADE , SOFT!WORST!LOGAN , WADE BEING UNABLE TO LOOK AFTER A KID , HEAVY/MULTIPLE BATMAN AND JASON TODD REFERENCES , DEADPOOL VARIANTS FUSSING OVER READER. soft!worst logan . overprotective!deadpool . only-deadpool-still-with-sidekick!wade wilson

Think of Batman and Robin.

Yup. Now turn and twist it around some more and make it.. more chaotic, more unhinged. More morally questionable.

And then think of Deadpool. The merc with a mouth. The dude that chose a red suit just so he didn't have to bother about the red stains.

And then add up a teenager to the recipe. As chaotic as the man, maybe a bit naïver. And you've got Deadpool and his sidekick.

Because if all cool superheros had sidekicks, then Deadpool —albeit while not actively being a superhero. Had to have one too, didn't he?

And that's how you had ended up roped into all of his unethical adventures, killing off the bad guys that had the highest price above their head and helping Deadpool run the official Spideypool fanwebsite.

But, despite how many masks you put on, despite how many bad guys you killed, despite how many times you had saved someone. You were still just you.

A teenager. A teenager paired up with an older, unhinged, mercenary that ran his mouth way too much and that got you into way too much trouble.

A teenager paired up with an irresponsible adult without emotional responsability was the fucking equivalent of throwing a trained lab mouse inside the first maze that didn't have an exist.

Wade cared about you. Yeah, you knew that. But the problem was that you were a teenager and teenagers needed a certain amount of care to grow healthyly.

Because physically you were great, with how much running around and being-at-the-verge-of-death you did. But mentally? God, then you were the messiest mess in the planet.

Spending so much time with someone that had so many intrusive thoughts, that spilled his thoughts without filter, had rubbed off on you.

And sometimes you scared yourself when sudden thoughts popped up in your mind. Like the sudden pull in your legs anytime you walked near the edge of a roof, the "jump!" that flashed across your head. Or the way you wondered, asked yourself, what it would feel to be stabbed when you were cleaning Deadpool's katanas. Or the way you started to throw yourself at danger's way just for the thrill of it. And if you died, well, there went nothing.

It was wrong. It was bad. And it was a totally unhealthy and toxic vice. You knew you were self-destructive.

But you didn't know how to do doing anything about it.

You see, if Deadpool wasn't so reckless and careless maybe you would've told him. But since he did it, you grew into your late teens thinking it was okay.

,,

Lately, your thoughts had grew more dangerous. More specific. And you were starting to get scared of yourself. In movies, that was how villians started —with destructive thoughts. And you didn't want to become a villian.

What would Wade think of you? He'd be disappointed in you, hate your guts, despise you.

So your mind jumped to the quickest—and most self-destructive—conclussion. Offing yourself before that happened.

And you had nearly 10 pages of your pink diary written with ways of carrying on with that plan. Glitter gel pen words scribbled about the knifes in the house—their lengths and sharpness—, about the belts stacked away in Wade's closet, about the height of the fall from the balcony to the ground. You had everything planned.

And Wade hadn't caught onto anything of it, except for the fact you seemed more twitchy and on edge than usual. He tied it to the usual teenage anxiousness that came with your age.

He didn't know this was the last mission he was going to have you in.

,,

He had just brought you along on this 'adventure' just like he had did with all of the ones before, except in this one there was another.. —reluctant—companion.

Logan Howlett. The Wolverine.

And not the dead hero that Wade had unburied a few days before. No. This one was the worst variant of Wolverine in the whole multiverse, the one from the timeline where he killed all of the X-Men.

And that Howlett was smelling something coming.

He could smell the irony scent of blood whafting off of you, a bitter scent choking his airways. Your scent was way too bitter for how cheerful you were, except maybe you weren't.

This Logan had only barely known you for two days, but if something were to happen to you he'd kill the responsible, then find a way to kill the mercenary and then find a way to kill himself too.

But, first. Stop, pause, rewind. How this did even start?

,,

You groaned as you helped Wade drag the uncounscious body of the drunk Wolverine you had found in a random timeline —the only one in which the dude hadn't tried to kill you at first sight. Entering through the door-shaped orange portal to the TVA room.

"one anchor being coming right up!" Wade's voice rang through the air before the merc, fully dressed in his suit, had crossed the portal.

You let out a startled squeak when the antihero pretty much threw the uncounscious body of the Logan on the ground, wincing at the metallic sound of his skull against the floor.

"Wade!" you hissed. "c'mon pumpkin', don't sweat it. He's full metal, remember?" he said as he gave the drunk Logan a kick in the side, the metallic sound echoing his words.

"listen here, babygirl" the merc started, looking at the unimpressed man before him. "this Wolverine has the he-can-do-anything-even-musical-stuff look to him and bonus he's actually wearing the accurate comic costume. So, uh yeah, there, timeline saved"

The silence coming from the dude that had called Wade here in the first place didn't sound too good get it?. And as you sat there, poking the drunk man's face with your index finger while whispering for him to "wake up, Wolvie, rise and shine, wakey wakey?"

"I don't understand"

"You said my, our" he pointed at you "universe is dying because this nutsack died, well, problem solved" he now pointed at Logan.

"oh my god" Paradox breathed out. "you actually think you can replace an Anchor Being with this?"

Oh, great. A rant was comming. Like the ones your mother goes on when you mess up too many times.

"I wouldn't have accepted any other Wolverine BT dubs. But you.. have outdone yourself and brought me the worst Wolverine in the whole multiverse!"

It looked as if the dude's temple vein was going to pop, and you weakly interveened. "what do you mean the worst one..?" you breathed out.

"This Wolverine let down his entire world, he's the stuff of Legend but not in a good way and what he did.. well, some things are just beyond forgiveness"

A beat of silence followed, you knew the Wolverine on the floor had been awake and listening for the whole time. But then, you saw Paradox finally looking at you.

"wait"

"what?"

"is that your little sidekick?"

The incredulous, and cruelly amused, tone of the man in uniform made Wade quirk an eyebrow under his mask.

"yeah, why?"

His words were followed by a booming laugh coming from Paradox. His hand going to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose, as chuckle after chuckle it just confused Wade and you even more.

"I can't believe you've still got her"

That was like a titty-flash for Wade, and not the good kind. He stood there, mouth gaping like a fish as he wildly and overexageredly gestured towards you.

"I gave you a chance at greatness, because my superiors deemed you special. But, I did my duty. I gave you the opportunity and you refused, so there's no more bussiness to do here"

And with that, and a strange remote control in his hand, he pressed a button and zapped you three off to somewhere. Leaving Wade with a strange taste lingering in his mouth.

Well, at least it seemed like your last adventure wasn't going to be boring.

(tags : @coocoocachewgotscrewed , @lokisloverisnthere , @krowsfoot , @lizziegraysworld , @r0reep , @beelzel-brat ).

[evilminji]

Been Watching Weird Fruit Explorer(?)... and I just...

W-Who let Bored Danny have BooTube?

Sorry, YOU-Tube. He has TWO Apps now. BooTube is bigger. Way more random, yet... somehow more niche? Meh. It's what happens when you get billions of billions of people who all have their own Obsessions to rant over, on a site.

Ember's channel is pretty lit, tho, ngl.

He stopped using YOU-Tube almost overnight. Too many ads, weird algorithmic pushiness. No thanks. It was too small and too "trying to take my money". You know?

Buuuuut? See.... TUCKER is the Tech guy.

Coding and that sort of stuff. HE does hands on work. You want a toaster? He can MAKE you a toaster! With LAZERS! Runs off The Goo! But a program? Eeeeeeeh? Hit it with hammer maybe? Monkey make fire? Hit with stick? Blergh.

Yeah, he can SORTA push through.

But he suuuucks.

And like... he had a headache, okay? His project had just, quiet literally, exploded in his face. So when he looked at his phone? All the apps were blobs. He clicked the one that LOOKED kinda right. Shoved his arm in his phone and brute forced a channel set up.

He figured he could ramble about Space!

It's not like he cared is anyone LISTENS or not! It's a "for him" thing, you know? Like a diary. But more... putting on a ☆~show~☆?

So he rambles from the floor of his Lair's Lab, crashs and wails in the distance, green sky occasionally visible as he lazily floats by windows. Dropping... juuuust past human knowledge understanding of Space. Talking like he's STUDYING somewhere. Referencing PAPERS no human will ever be able to find.

But a few they WILL.

Some of which, are currently? Only half written.

But then? Oh YEAH... he should eat! You know... Sam keeps bringing him fruits and veggies and stuff from her internship at that Botanical Lair. Stuff never seen before of Earth. Or hasn't been seen in centuries.

Again, like, a FEW that? Randomly? Have???

He picks up something sharply purple, bright orange insides. Crisp crunch. He makes a face. And starts to ramble about it, distracted from Space. "Weirdly mushroom-y" he notes. "Kinda bubblegum sweet? But like... CHEAP bubblegum. Like it hits you all at once and is kinda chemically. But it disappears real fast? Huh. Spicy too..."

It's the first video on the Playlist. One of hundreds. Two of the green Lanterns RECONIZE that fruit ad HIGHLY toxic to humans, can't recognize what planet they're seeing. Or how this alien teen got himself on YouTube.

He seems... unaware of how incredibly famous he's become.

But his strange techno Pharoah friend has not. HE is both perfectly aware and apparently amused. Has taken to feeding him rare and hazardous flora and fauna, to see if it tastes good.

....there have been an alarming number of plants from dead planets.

And the comments the kid makes? Alarming as hell.

Sam's just pleased everybody's getting their greens. Danny's glad him n tuck get to hang and do "try weird foods and fuck around, bro time". They've made lazers! Talked about stuff! Debated why Martian Manhunter is THE superior Justice League member.

Danny understands. Wonder Woman is a BAMF. But he's biased, Tucker. He doesn't CARE if she has a sword and flowy, impressive locks! Shape-shifting telepath! From MARS!!! *imaginary mic drop*

And Tucker? Is conquering the YouTube scene with this charming, weird, relatable young alien. Who rambles about Space, debates nerd stuff, eats weird plants and describes them, and makes sci-fi technology! Theme? WHAT THEME? Phantom is a weird channel, man. You never know what you'll find!

And no one can get rid of it.

Believe them, governments have TRIED. Censorship? Not possible. Not without removing the whole SITE.

[stevie-petey]

oh, you didn't know?

“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank.  “Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”

Summary: steve is pathetically in love with you and for some reason the universe hates him and continues to pray on his downfall. typical.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 1.6k

Before you swing in: happy valentines day my loves <333 youre all my valentines, i didnt make the rules. anyways, pls enjoy this cute cheesy fic. dont ask how i thought of this: i simply do not know. however, its pathetic!loverboy!steve and i think we ALL deserve that today smh.

-

Steve has never had the best timing. 

When he first manned up to ask you out, it had coincidentally been the same day your childhood dog died. 

There he had been, flowers in hand and a proud smile on his face when he knocked on your front door, completely taken aback when you answered with tears streaming down your face. 

Immediately, Steve’s smile had dropped and he quickly pulled you close to inspect for any injuries or pain. “Y/N? What happened, is everything okay?”

“My dog died.” You wailed, even more tears spilling over. 

“Oh my god–”

“He… He didn’t suffer. He was old and–” You had sniffed, looking so small and frail in your heartbreak, before spotting the flowers in Steve’s hand. You gasped. “H–How did you know?”

Steve had been confused for a moment, but when he followed your gaze to the flowers that were originally meant to be “please be my girlfriend” flowers, his heart dropped. 

Well fuck. 

“Yes…” He cleared his throat. “I, uh. Had a hunch?”

You threw your arms around Steve, the flowers then crushed between you two, but he hadn't paid any attention to them as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. After a few seconds, you placed your lips by his ear and whispered, “You’re the sweetest.”

The sincerity in your voice had made Steve want to vomit. 

He hadn’t had a hunch that your childhood dog would die that day, but what else was he supposed to say? Hey, sorry your dog died, do you want to kiss now? Absolutely not. 

Steve is many things, and oftentimes he is an idiot, but he isn’t that much of an idiot.

So, instead of asking you to be his girlfriend, Steve had instead spent the next three hours at your house as he consoled you and watched your favorite movie to cheer you up. While it hadn’t been his ideal outcome, Steve had still been happy to simply spend time with you. Besides, you had needed him at that moment, so of course Steve was right there by your side. 

Life moved on, a few weeks passed, and eventually Steve decided to try again. 

You had no more animals to possibly lose, Christmas was approaching, and Steve was determined that this time he’d be able to ask you out. 

After buying you some chocolate and planning a fort building night on Christmas Eve, Steve had been sure that the night would go perfectly. There was a beautiful rose pendant bracelet sitting atop of his dresser in his room, wrapped and ready for you to open. 

Steve’s plan was foolproof. 

Build a fort, watch a cheesy Christmas movie, bake some cookies and drink hot chocolate, and then boom: Steve would ask you to be his girlfriend. 

However, Steve really should’ve known better. 

His parents had left that day and he had spent the entire time cleaning the house and preparing all the snacks before your arrival. At six on the dot, his doorbell rang and Steve eagerly ran over to answer the door. 

There, standing on his front doorstep, had been you with a smug looking Dustin Henderson.

“What’s the kid doing here?” Steve had asked, all his hope now coming crashing down upon him. 

You winced. “I know we made plans, I’m so sorry, but his mom asked me to babysit him and she offered me the rest of the money I need for your Christmas gift and–”

“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank. 

“Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”

“Stevie, I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” You groaned at him, and Steve knew you hated disappointing him. “Can we please just come inside? It’s cold and I was really excited for the fort.”

There are many times when Steve wonders just how he manages to get himself into obscure situations. That night, when he had Dustin Henderson wedged between you and him underneath a super romantic and cute fort that he had spent hours building, had been one of those times where Steve questioned his entire life. 

At that point, Steve was starting to wonder if he’d ever manage to ask you out in the first place. 

A few more weeks passed after that and you were still his best friend and nothing had changed between you two, but now Steve found himself constantly biting his tongue around you. He was so fucking in love with you, he had been for years, but after two failed attempts of confessing his feelings: it was becoming impossible to hold them in. 

Then, late January, your birthday came along. 

This time, Steve was sure that he had it all figured out.

You had wanted to grab some dinner at the local diner you loved, and Steve thought that a small, toned down proposal to date would be perfect. He’d give you your birthday gift (a matching set of earrings for the rose bracelet you now wore every day), he’d order you the strawberry shortcake you adored, and when you weren’t looking, Steve would ask the waitress to write “happy birthday, my love” on the cake. 

Steve was a goddamn romantic genius, honestly. 

Except that isn’t what happened. 

What actually ended up happening was the waitress somehow hearing “my love” as “Milo” and Steve had wanted to bash his fucking skull in. 

“Who’s ‘Milo’?” You had asked once the cake came out, confusion evident on your face. 

Steve, now used to nothing ever working out in his favor, had simply sighed and said, “Who knows, man. Just eat your cake.”

You had giggled, and the sound was enough to cheer Steve up a bit. Sure, it was looking more and more like the world didn’t want you with him, but at least he got to hear your laugh and admire the way your eyes shined whenever you looked at him. 

Now, a few weeks later, it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is terrified that he will somehow set your house on fire with his horrible luck. 

He has spent the last two months trying to ask you out. Now, on the day of love itself, Steve is almost too terrified to even approach you. At the rate he’s going, if he tries to ask you out again, he’ll end up telling you he hates you or something. 

He’s miserable. 

Which is how he finds himself once again outside your door, except there’s no flowers in his hands, and he knocks. 

You guys haven’t made any plans tonight, but it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is so in love with you that it hurts. 

The second his knuckles leave the door, you swing the door wide open and jump into his arms. “Stevie!”

Surprised by such an affectionate reaction, Steve almost falls into the bushes in front of your house. “Woah, hey!”

He steadies the two of you and you simply squeeze him tighter and giggle. You’re in an exceptionally good mood, almost too good of a mood, and Steve’s hands are sweating. He hadn’t exactly come here with a game plan in mind. 

“Happy to see me, I take it?” He mumbles into your ear. 

“Duh,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day, why wouldn’t I be excited to see my boyfriend?”

This time, Steve actually does fall into the bush behind him. 

“Oh my god,” you run over and quickly try to help the boy up, but Steve is staring up at the night sky, overcome with pure shock and fear. “Stevie? Steve!”

Steve lays there, motionless as you continue to tug at his jacket. “How long have I been your boyfriend, Y/N?”

At his question, you stop tugging and look at him, confused. “I don’t know, honestly. How long has it been since the fourth of July?”

“The fourth?” Steve sputters. “Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m just now finding out you’re my girlfriend?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?”

“No!” Steve finally scrambles out of the bushes and grabs your face with his hands. He feels insane, his hands are shaking a bit as he holds onto you. “When did this happen?”

You scrunch your eyebrows together. “On the fourth. We saw the fireworks, cuddled on the picnic blanket you stole from your mom, you grabbed my hand, and then told me you never wanted this to end. I just… I assumed you meant our relationship?”

Steve blinks. “You… You are the love of my life, Y/N L/N.”

“Well, I’d hope so–” Suddenly Steve’s lips are against yours and he’s kissing you with everything he has within him. All those months of pining after you, all the times he’s failed in asking you to be his, and this entire time you had somehow been his all along. 

God, he is so stupidly in love with you. 

He nips at your bottom lip and you make a sound that’s so soft and sweet in the back of your throat that has Steve’s head spinning. He nips again, revels in the breathy sigh you release against his lips, and Steve’s hand tugs harshly against your waist. 

The kiss is perfect and everything he’s ever dreamed of. 

Then, a thought occurs to Steve. 

“Wait a minute,” he breaks the kiss and your love drunk expression almost makes him groan. He tells himself to focus, even though it’s incredibly difficult to do so. “If we’ve been supposedly dating since July, didn’t you wonder why I hadn’t kissed you yet?”

“Oh, I just thought you were shy.” You shrug, as if it’s no big deal. Then, with a teasing smile, you add, “And I guess I love you too.”

Steve decides, then and there, that you will be the death of him.

And he couldn’t be any happier as he pulls you in again for another bruising kiss. 

Afterall, Steve has about seven months to make up for lost time. 

-

⌑ writing masterlist

[rinsoap]

THEM AS YOUR BOYFRIEND!

includes : ken ryuguji and baji keisuke. they are in their late teens/early 20s.

note : UR WELCOME TO THE FOURTEEN REQS IN MY INBOX BEGGING FOR BAJI CONTENT! i was gonna write mitsuya and mikey but i got tired lol

ken ryuguji as your boyfriend.

he loves taking you out on his bike. he likes how you hold him so tightly, and he likes the feeling of your cheek pressed against his back. when you first asked him, he was a little wary at first because he was kind of scared you might get hurt, but who was he to say no to his girl?

the girls at the brothel fucking love you. you exchange makeup tips and self care remedies, they pinch your cheek and tell you how cute you are. "hi love, what are you doing here looking so pretty!? ain't she pretty, kenny? yeahh he thinks so, look at him, he's blushing" "'course i think she's pretty, i'm the one dating her" oh and they love to give you life advice too; men, money, independance, all of it. draken is embarassed by how they act, but you think it's sweet.

he hates being posted to your socials. he's cool with it if his face isn't in the picture, but he values his privacy. his own social media presence is practically nonexistent, other than one highlight with one story from your birthday of you holding flowers he got you. the song he posted to you is my girl by the temptations.

though he likes his privacy, he does like pda. not intense pda, it's not like y'all have your tongues down each other's throats in public or anything, but he likes a lil kiss here n there. his arm around your waist, or your fingers intertwined with his. a kiss on your shoulder, and always one on your lips before you part. and while he doesn’t typically like to make a scene, when he misses you its a whole different story. he loves when you run to him when you see him after being away from each other for far too long, throwing your arms around his shoulders and his wrap around your waist to spin you around, peppering the side of your face with kisses as you tell him how much you missed him through giggles. "missed you too, angel," a kiss on your jaw. "i'm sorry i've been so busy lately," a kiss on your cheek "'m gonna make it up to you though, i promise." a kiss on your lips. yeah, it's that kind of pda.

he will call you so many pet names, it's not even funny. they're out of his mouth before he even realizes it. it's not like he hides his loving side exactly, it's just that with you, he gets to be a whole other type of gushy. his friends make fun of him whenever they get a glimpse of his softer side when he speaks to you, but he does not care!!! he'll never stop calling you his pretty princess or kissing your cheek or holding all your bags when you go shopping just because his friends think he's whipped. he would happily admit that they're right!!

baji keisuke as your boyfriend.

he may come across as cold, but make no mistake, physical touch is his love language. he always finds himself gravitating to touching you, even in public. whether he's holding your hand or resting his head on your shoulder or tracing hearts and stars into the skin of your thigh, he just wants to touch you!!! in private, it is so much more egregious. he'll be on top of you, attacking you with kisses, hands roaming over your skin. he loves when you sleep over because then he can extend his time to cuddle with you. he likes little spoon and big spoon equally, he just wants SOMEONE to be held!!!

he has and will fight someone for you, absolutely no question. he doesn't exactly get jealous, you express how much you love him enough for him to have interalized it, but he does let a threat or two slip out when a man's flirting with you right in front of him. when someone is being creepy to you, yes, he has been known to throw a couple punches. he'll stop when you ask!! its not like he's batshit!!!! when he's finished, you tend to his wounds. muttering about how stupid he is but giving him a kiss to his temple.

he knows how obsessed you are with his hair. he watches you from the corner of his eye, staring lip tucked between your teeth as he puts it up. he complains, but he secretly loves it. "man you treat me like some slut" "true i'm just using you for your hair. one day you'll wake up bald and i'll be half way across the country with a ziploc bag full of your beautiful hair" "i hate you" he loves lying on top of you, cheek pressed against your chest as you run your fingers through your hair. he always ends up mumbling how much he loves you when your fingers find their way into his hair. he also lets you play around with different hairstyles too! his favourite will always be a half up half down moment :p

he calls you bro more than actual pet names tbh. generally, he doesn't use a lot of pet names because he'd rather call you by your name, but when he's being extra sweet or when he's tired, he'll use them. you love how cute he is when he's about to fall asleep, he starts going on and on about how much he loves his pretty girl. "soo sweet to me, love you soo much... my lovely girl... my love" he'll whisper into your neck, not even knowing exactly what he's saying himself as his eyes slowly flutter shut. when he's in a good mood he'll greet you with a lil "hey baby" or "hello perfect beautiful girlfriend" bc he's annoying like that 😞

he can ALWAYS tell when something is wrong. a clench of your jaw or a slight falter in your eyes, he immediately knows. he'll ask about it as soon as he picks up on it. he's surprisingly very good at comforting. he'll listen as long as you need him to, he'll give you a temple kiss, a gesture that quickly became a sign of love and understanding in your relationship. he'll kiss you on one, then the other, and add "to ease your mind." and you laugh because it's corny, and he rolls his eyes and claims he's never doing a nice thing for you again, but he grabs your hand to take you out to eat because he knows food is the best comfort.

[rottenaero]

Ao3

Part 1

Part 3

Part two to the roommates idea

Whenever the mall ‘burns down’, Eddie is just chilling at home; not doing anything special.

Actually, thats a complete lie. He hadn't seen Steve since he left for his shift the day before, and currently has his band+Wayne scattered in the living room as he paces.

“He may as well be dead, he always calls before staying the night somewhere, and he totally despises that place, so why would he stay after hours?” He comes to a halt infront of Jeff who looks considering. “What?!"

“Maybe, consider, he just forgot to call you." Eddie scoffed, “ ‘Maybe he just forgot’, except you don't know him, Jeff. Steve doesn't forget, tell ‘em Wayne."

Wayne nods from his spot on the lazyboy, “ ‘S true, he'd rather call at 2am than have us worrying.”

Gareth rolls his eyes, “Look Edmund, I get your worried about you boyfriend and all but why did we have to get dragged into this?" He complained, and Eddie began pacing again.

“ Not,my boyfriend, yet, and you’re getting-”

A ringing interrupts him.

The pacing stopped almost as soon as it began, and he darts to the phone. “ Y’hello, it's Eddie talking.” A sharp breath drew from the other end of the line.

“Hey Eds."

Eddie smiled, “Holy shit, Stevie. I thought you died. Wayne and the guys are literally gathered in the living room.” Upon hearing the name, Wayne visibly relaxed, going from hunched over to leaning backwards in seconds.

“Yeah I'm- Well shit not okay but I'm not dead.”In the background there was a noise, barely noticeable but-

“Wait, what? Are those sirens? Are you hurt? What the hell-” Wayne leaned forward again.

“I'm at the mall, there's been, uh, an accident? I don't- they took my keys, I need a ride back home.”

“Who took your keys? Steve you can't just be all ominous and-” The phone line shut off. "Fuck!”

Grant, who hasn't been helpful at all, stood up. "What did he do?”

Eddie groans, running a hand through his greasy hair, “Needs us to pick him up, might be hurt. He's such a- Wayne we're taking my van, you guys coming?”

Turns out the answer is yes.

-

They arrive at the mall five minutes later, mostly because Eddie was driving like a bat outta hell, to every emergency vehicle you can think of, plus thirty more, surrounding the place.

Eddie roles his window down when a cop signals him. “What are you doing over here?"

The metalhead bites his lip, what the hell, “Uh, I'm here to pick up Steve Harrington? He got involved in whatever's happening.”

The cops nods, "Alright, park your vehicle over there, and go get him.”

He does as he's told, a surprising feat showing just how scared he was, because Steve being hurt could mean so many things.

They get out the car, Wayne being the leading man, and head to where the commotion is.

The mall was totally destroyed, a couple kids he didn't know were sitting around, surrounded by their parents, there's a couple teens too, Nancy Wheeler, Johnny Byers, a girl in a sailor costume, and-

Eddie’s heart stopped and he fucking sped forward. “ Holy shit, what the fuck man." Steve looked like hell, understatement of the century but-

His face was bruised and bloody, his hands wrapped in casts, his hair was flat and gross and he was still in his damn sailor costume.

“Hey Munsons, Gareth, Jeff, Grant. It's the whole Scooby gang, or Smurfs, whoever you prefer.” Eddie grabbed his shoulders, and stared him dead in the eye. “ What. The. Fuck. Are you high too?!”

“Just what the hell did you get yourself into. " Wayne said more than asked, shaking his head.

Steve buzzed his lips, his eyebrows furrowed and he brought a hand to them and-

God they were split, and bleeding now. He looked back up at the long haired man infront of him, ignoring Wayne's question-not-question.

“Nah, just recovering from being drugged. Hey this is rivveting conversation and shit, but like, I wanna go home and sleep in your bed, man. Or the couch, or the floor.”

He let out a loud laugh, “Fuck I am not picky right now, I'll even take the back of the van.”

“Christ."

-

They don't talk about it, not after Hellfire goes home, not the next morning, not after Steve heals. They just don't, because the news told them all they need to know, that there was a fire. Eddie just assumed when they said he was drugged, that he meant medically.

(He didn't)

[seobinghard]

𐙚⭑𓂃 LOVE ON THE STREET ✰

➤ you and wooyoung embark on a top-secret mission to stalk hongjoong on his date but find yourselves unceremoniously caught up in a scandalous street interview for a reality dating show. yikes.

pairing: best friend!wooyoung x fem!reader ⭑ tags: crack, fluff, wooyoung's the biggest flirt, hongjoong mentioned. ⭑ wc: 1k (i think) ⭑ tw: profanity, mention of d word in a sarcastic context.

"i'm telling you, they're like ninjas."

you and wooyoung are on a classified mission to stalk hongjoong on his first date and let's just say, it's not looking too good for you two nosy mfckers. you keep losing track of the couple, there's too many people at the plaza, and you're sweating your assess off under the midsummer sun trying to navigate your way through a sea of shoppers.

"woo, i think i'm gonna faint," you breath out. "like, actually."

"grab onto me," wooyoung tells you, tightening his grip on your interlaced hands as he leads you through the crowded square, unaware of the blush that's crept up your cheeks. "oh! wait, i see them! let's go!"

hand-in-hand, you sprint across the streets like two stray chickens charging at their prey—hongjoong and his date, chatting about outside a buzzling pizza stand with not a single clue they're being followed.

wooyoung spots a bush near a lemonade stall opposite the pizza stand. "there! let's hide. i need to know what the fuck they're talking about."

talk about nosiness—you got nothing on wooyoung.

you both scurry over to the bush, keeping your heads low. but just as you're meters away from your hideout, a group of people stops you on your tracks, shoving a gigantic microphone in your faces.

"what the fuck!" wooyoung hisses, eyes darting to the pizza stand only to realise hongjoong is gone.

"spotted! a cute young couple!" the street interviewer—a woman no older than thirty—chirps merrily, signalling her sound crew to come closer. "do you mind introducing yourselves and share with us how long you've been dating?"

you spot a pink logo on the mic—'LOVE ON THE STREET'.

oh my god. this isn't some lowkey tiktok street interviewer with 20k followers looking to grow her channel. no, this lady's an actual tv host with a whole production crew and you're on national fucking television for a reality dating show. oh my god.

your jaw is on the ground and wooyoung is pissed.

"we're not dating and we're not interested," wooyoung politely rejects with a frown.

he grabs your hand and attempts to make a dash but is blocked by the camera man who unabashedly zooms in on your interlocked fingers.

"ooooh, what do we have here—you're holding hands!" the host chimes cattily, sounding like one of those scandalous reality tv commentators; very 'gossip girl'-esque. "you guys sure you're not dating?"

wooyoung's patience is running thin. "alright, what do you want?"

"bro, we're on tv! don't be rude!" you whisper quietly.

wooyoung hasn't let go of your hand. instead, he looks straight into the camera with a deadpan look like a scene from 'the office' and says, "what do you want me to say, huh? that we're dating? oh! guess what? we're actually married. yes, yes, that's right. shocker. baby, show 'em your ring."

"what ring!" you hiss quietly in his ear.

wooyoung continues with the most serious face, lying straight through he teeth, "we've also got a golden retriever and three kids. a nine year old, a seven year old and a toddler—"

"wow you guys have been busy, huh? and um, a nine year old? correct me if i'm wrong but you both look so young!" the host laughs dramatically.

"yeah, we're high school sweethearts. got a problem?"

you want to die. he did not just insinuate you're teen parents.

"n-no, no!" the host corrects herself, "and are you two lovebirds on a date?"

wooyoung casts her a devilish grin, "yes, and if you don't mind, my wife is tired and we need to leave."

with that, wooyoung whisks you away as quick as he can into the ac-ventilated coolness of the shopping mall. he still hasn't let go of your hand.

a calm silence settles between the both of you. the air feels different. none of you brought up the whole interview and none of you seem like you want to continue mission 'stalk hongjoong' after running around town like headless chickens in the heat. so you decide to settle down in a baby blue booth at a japanese dessert cafe somewhere on level five by the wall-to-ceiling windows.

"you don't like the cake?" wooyoung asks before taking a long slurp from his strawberry milkshake.

you glance down at the strawberry cream cake, mindlessly poking the icing-dusted strawberry with your fork. "it's good."

"why aren't you eating?"

maybe because you just announced to the whole world we're married with three kids and a dog ??? — is what you want to yell at him but instead, you calmly lie, "i have ibs."

wooyoung lets out a verbal 'LOL' then proceeds to rake his bag for a familiar green bottle of ibs medication. you don't even realise he's been carrying one of those with him—he doesn't even have ibs. wooyoung coolly hands you a pill. "take this."

"thanks," you mutter, pretending to swallow the pill only to swiftly spit it back into your palm when he's not looking.

ugh, why does it feel so awkward all of a sudden. awkwardness and wooyoung has never coexisted, even during your most embarrassing moments like that one time in eleventh grade when he walked in on you with nothing but your spongebob underwear on. or that one time he farted in the car and you almost died from the fumes. it's always been fun and games with wooyoung. nothing is ever serious for the both of you—that's why you click.

until now.

"y/n, what's wrong? i can see it in your face so don't even lie to me," wooyoung threatens playfully as he steals a bite from your cake.

"i don't know."

what you do know is wooyoung looks so good today with his long black hair, slicked back in a half-up ponytail with the hair tie he stole from your vanity. a few loose strands of hair covers his eyes; eyes that are gazing into yours like it's harbouring something you don't know. his ears are studded with chrome hearts earrings and a matching necklace that dangles off his neck—his favourite. he's wearing the black tee you got for him last christmas. the thought makes you flustered and you can't help but look away.

and of course, wooyoung being quick-witted and sly, instantly catches the dust of pink on your cheeks and smirks, "holy shit, y/n, are you ... shy?"

"no, i'm not!"

"you are!" wooyoung laughs, "no way, is it because of that interview?"

"oh my god, stoppp," you let out a muffled shriek in your palms.

wooyoung is enticed. he's never seen you this shy around him and honestly, he could really get used to it.

"oh, y/n," he coos, drawling your name in a tone so sweet, so flirty it makes your stomach flutter. "if you wanna get married, you could've just asked, silly girl."

he leans in from across the table and whispers, "you want my babies?"

you gawk at him in horror and flick a strawberry at his face. "you perv!"

"ah—" wooyoung yelps, wiping off the smeared cream on his eyelid, "you almost made me blind! the fuck— wait, where are you going?"

you pick up your bag and hurriedly scoot out of the booth. "away from your stupid ass. i can't be in the same space as you right now."

"what, is it 'cause i'm too hot?" wooyoung grins, "just sayin', we'd make a hot married couple, you and me– baby, come back!"

[laswells-ashtray]

John never thinks too hard about his childhood, he thinks he's past it. Drunken dad who died when he was a teen, mum who died the day he was born. No point wasting time on that and he thinks he's outgrown that point in his life. Maybe Dad was a bit heavy-handed with the belt but that was more acceptable back then, no need to fuss, and when he compares it to the stories Simon let slip when they both went a little too hard with the drink, he has nothing to complain about.

He never shares any family stories, yeah, Soap will share a story about how he was named after his dad and it sparks a conversation, Kyle will explain the origin of his name proudly, Simon will offer a sparse answer and none of them will ask for any further context. John will offer some half-assed explanation about being named after his old man's old man, someone he never met and never thinks about. Kyle asks him about his mother with a gentleness that can only mean he's noticed that John never talks about her, he offers the classic "never knew her" and it isn't a lie. It isn't. Because he didn't know her, she left earth the same day he made his appearance on it, the value of his life has always been at the cost of another, it's why he makes such a good captain. And he's sick of hearing "oh, I'm sorry" whenever he mentions that he's dead. He's a grown man, he can only hear so many apologies before they become just pointless words that hold no value.

So, it doesn't bother him. Two people he knew are dead, they started the list of countless other names that he doesn't bother thinking about.

And then he comes back from a mission one day, it was a shitshow. Nothing went to plan because their intel was fucked and everyone is frustrated. Ghost had to get stitches in a wound on his arm, isn't the end of the world but it was avoidable. Gaz, the poor fucker is concussed and Soap has the fun job of waking him up every two hours to check on him, a job he was assigned by a medic after they pulled the glass out of his hand. John is almost certain his ankle is sprained, his entire body is a bruise, he lost a good fucking cigar and he snapped at Laswell over comms so he owes an apology that he's planning in advance.

He wants Nik, it might be juvenile but he's tired in a way he can feel in his bones and he wants his pilot.

He finds Nik, he doesn't have to say anything as they head back to his room. Nik knows, Nik always knows. There's the briefest of exchanges as he strips out of his kit and he heads to the shower with the slightest relief knowing that his night is going to end in lazy sex and being stuck under the warm blanket of the Russian bear of a man.

He walks out with damp hair in a pair of boxers and socks because the floor is fucking cold with the constant draft and all but collapses face-first onto his bed. He'll offer Nik a murmured apology later for being selfish but he just isn't sure he can form the words right now.

He can hear Nik kicking off his boots behind him with little care as to where they land, it's a familiar sound from nights like this. He's as relaxed as he's going to get until he hears it, the sound of someone fumbling with their belt buckle. For years it's been just a noise but for the briefest of moments he tenses up in preparation, shoulders raised instinctively to try and block the leather from catching the back of his neck. He's not sure if he's breathing and he can smell whisky, the old fucker must've lobbed the bottle at the wall again and the last dredges of Johnnie Walker red label are soaking into the carpet again. If he doesn't remember to clean it before he goes up to bed then he's fucked, the old drunk will wring his fucking neck just like last time when he-

"John?" The hand on his back is warm as it lands between his shoulder blades, it should be comforting and he should relax into it. He doesn't. He's ashamed of the way he flinches, kicking out a leg as he tries to push himself up the bed and away from it hits him. It's Nikolai. The hand belongs to Nik.

He turns to face the other man, lying on his side and propped up with an elbow. He isn't sure if the sheer mortification he feels is obvious, or the tremors in his hands. He hasn't reacted like that since he was a boy.

"Fuck, Nik. Sorry, just lost in my own fucking head- Sorry, give me a sec and we can get to it." It's humiliating, he's the one who asked for sex and a fucking belt sends him over the edge.

"No, no `getting to it`. We shall continue another night." And there he's gone and done it, his fucking inability to keep his composure has just put a dampener on their sex life.

The cautious way Nikolai reaches out for him hurts, he's being treated like some scared animal. The large hand on his shoulder does act as a source of comfort when he knows who's behind it. "John, перестань. Talk to me, captain."

"I don't- I don't know, just give me a moment." How long can he spend pleading for just a little more time before Nikolai gets sick of it.

"The belt."

He looks up at the Russian with wide eyes, mouth open as he tries to form a denial of some kind, waiting for words that won't form.

Nikolai stares down at him with a look so gentle he has to look away, he can hear the faint sigh of resignation and the following mutter of something Russian that he isn't paying enough attention to in order to translate it in his head.

He sits in silence as the other man joins him in the bed, leaving a gap between that and offering John the chance to cross it on his own time. He shifts over and plaster himself against his partner's side, face buried in his neck.

"I assumed the scars down your back were from torture, just not the military kind."

"From years ago, don't matter much now do they? Taken a lot worse than a belt since then." His body was covered in scars of varying sizes, from anywhere to the scar on his hand from slicing a bagel to the silver band wrapped around part of his left thigh from a bastard with a blade that damn near nicked an artery. He'd stuck that poor sod's blade through his own throat and left him to gurgle on his blood.

"I assume your father is dead?" The fact that Nikolai sounds hopeful isn't lost on him.

"Drank himself into oblivion years ago." John had always thought it would've been his liver that did him in, would've bet money on it. Would've lost too. The old man had asphyxiated on his own vomit, silly prick.

"Good."

[aryxchse]

the hot lifeguard. | percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader.

a / n : no one's requesting for my husband so i simp for him on my own (and with my girl annabeth chase ofc)

warnings ; cursing, you being a simp (totally not inspired from me), him being a simp, maybe nsfw mentions idk just horny teens, hot percy jackson, my baby annabeth because she's too cute for you to handle, ALSO LONG ASS FIC WTF, well you know me, i'm a sucker for daughter of hera trope

having a crush on percy jackson was normal in the campers.

he was hot, powerful, funny, sarcastic, kind, loyal, and believe me, the list goes on.

so when he started working as a lifeguard in the camp, suddenly everyone was in the water. he, the little shit he is, surfed once in a while too, to give a little show to the girls and boys. he was the aphrodite cabin's precious, which piper was disgusted. but he was proud.

today was another day for the camp to be at lake, swimming. annabeth dragged you out from the peaceful hera cabin, saying that you should at least get in the water to survive this hot weather. even though you wanted to stay inside, she was right, like always. the weather was hot and you started to get embarresed from the amount of times you asked jason to create a wind for you.

now you were going to use percy's element to cool down, which is, your secret crush.

"having a crush on percy isn't bad as you think." annabeth said quietly, carrying her and your beach bags. you, who was carrying the snacks and your surfboard, sighed. "oh yeah? i'm literally in a fucking cult annabeth. the 'i-have-a-crush-on-percy-too' cult. and believe me, there's so many of us."

annabeth laughed at you and found a good spot while you were rambling. she put the bags down on the sand and pulled out a blue picnic blanket to claim the area.

"i know the cult, i was a member of it when i was like, 12." she joked, now putting the bags on top of the blanket to keep it in place. "then i left, realising i wasn't really in the cult."

you smirked at her as you took off your big camp shirt, laying on the blanket with your matched blue bikini. "see? you should know what i feel."

annabeth shrugged, taking off her own camp shirt, leaving herself with her yellow swimsuit. "not really." she said. "besides, there's no one like you in the cult. you're quite famous yourself."

you raised an eyebrow at her, taking a lemonade from the little fridge standed beside you. "how so, blondie?" you asked, taking a sip.

"well, you're the only daughter of the famous hera, and literally the definition of good. everyone knows and loves you, you're always helping people. the little kids call you mom sometimes for gods' sake." she explained, and you chuckled.

"what's that have to do with percy?" you asked as you grabbed a diet coke from the fridge. annabeth groaned, taking the diet coke from your hand. "what i'm trying to say is, you probably have his attention already. you're as famous as him and you're literally gorgeous."

you 'awww'ed at annabeth which she gagged playfully. you left a kiss to her cheek. "thanks annie, but i'm only successful at being little boys first love. not getting the famous percy jackson's attention."

annabeth groaned louder, laying on her back. "man, people talk about the skinny white boy like he's some god." she said. "when he was twelve, he was basically a loser."

you laughed at her and stood up, taking your surfboard. "how nice of you to talk about him like that." you joked, and annabeth made thumbs up to you. "anyways babe, i'll surf a little. there's a lotta good waves goin' on right now."

annabeth looked at the ocean and sighed. "you sure? it looks dangerous today." she said, and you only giggled at her worries. "oh please, you know i'm good at surfing as much as percy."

"yeah, sure. don't let piper hear that'." annabeth yelled after you as you walked away. you waved at her without turning back.

you looked around a bit. the apollo kids was blasting music in the food corner, which was now full of demigods. dionysus kids was making cocktails without the alcohol, because their dad's were watching them. chiron was just chilling next to mr d, a sunglass on his face, and the aphrodite kids was playing beach volleyball with the demeter kids.

then you looked at the right. oh, there he was.

percy jackson, sitted on the guard chair -you really didn't know what it's called- with that tan and muscular body of his. he had a sunglass on his face and an ice cream stick in his mouth. he lazily swinged his feet once in a while, and the blue shorts of his were looking so damn good on him. the red whistle hanged around on his bare chest, not that he touched it often.

you stopped staring when a girl accidently bumped you, apologising right after it. you smiled and said it was nothing, internally thanking the girl for making you turn back to life again. you were damn sure annabeth was making fun of you.

little thing you didn't know that percy, was observing you in that blue bikini, behind his sunglasses. what do you think was the reason of him wearing them? to be cool? nah, he doesn't even need those to be cool. he's just watching you secretly. you, didn't had any idea you were making an eye contact with him until that girl bumped to you.

he watched you dive in the water like you were poseidon's champion or something, getting on that white surfboard of yours like a damn model. percy felt like he was drooling at the sight, which he probably was.

he was snapped out of his gaze with mr d yelling at him. man, you were just about to bend over and stand up on that board.

"yes, mr d?" he said lazily, rolling his eyes behind the sunglasses.

"this little shit needs to find the bathroom, go show him." mr d pointed some little boy who was holding his shorts like his life depended on it. percy jumped down from his seat like it wasn't 2 feet tall, and smiled at the boy.

"don't mind him, he's an old man who's angry he can't drink." he said to the boy, ruffling his hair. the boy only nodded. "i don't really care anyway, i just need to pee."

percy chuckled as he picked the little boy in his arms, already taking him to the bathroom. "i'll carry you little fella. just be careful not to pee on me."

"i won't, thank you percy." the little boy said. percy wasn't suprised that he knew his name. "no problem. what's your name kid?"

"peter." he said. percy chuckled again. "yeah? mr d used to call me peter. he still does sometimes."

the little boy laughed as percy entered the bathroom. "really? so that's why he calls me percy sometimes." he said, forgetting he had to pee. percy smiled. "probably. go and let go all your pee boy, i'll be back on busin-"

he couldn't finish his sentence when annabeth rushed to the boys bathroom. "percy!" she yelled.

percy turned around to look at annabeth and smiled. "hey 'beth, nice to see you. not a really good spot for meeting don't ya thi-"

"there's no time for joking seaweed brain! she's fucking drowning!" she yelled at him. percy immediatly took of his glasses as they already start running towards the ocean.

"who?" he asked.

"y/n! you know her right?" annabeth said breathlessly.

of course he did, he fucking adored her. percy's worry only growed when he saw how big those waves were. the demigod's were already in panic as they looked at the sea. chiron called percy and said that the daughter of hera needed to be saved immediatly. percy didn't even stopped to listen to chiron as he dive into the water.

you thought you could handle it, or at least swim up and sit on your board. but no, poseidon was definetly in a bad mood, and he was taking his anger out from you, probably.

as you lost your balance and fell into the water, you didn't panicked and started swimming as usual. but big and strong waves hit you back and forth, until you were tired, swallowed too many water and fainted.

when you opened your eyes, you thought you were in elysium. or it was just some another version of the little mermaid.

percy smiled at you as you opened your eyes, his big hands cupping your face. he was panting, not because he was tired from all the swimming, no. he was panting because he fight with the thought of losing you for the past five minutes as he worked on getting out the water you swallowed.

"there you are, breath honey. can you do that?" he asked, and you caughed a bit. you nodded softly as he lifted you until you sat up, his strong arms still supporting your back.

you looked around, there was only the two of you, the crowd was long gone. you looked at percy again as your hand find it's way to your forehead. "what happened?" you asked.

"nothin' to worry about angel, just some big waves." he explained, caressing your back softly. you let your body rest on his chest, sighing as you remembered what happened.

"didn't thought the waves would get this crazy." you said, voice still hoarse as you caughed again. percy nodded as he patted your back. "me either."

after a minute of silence, percy finally speaked up again. "i... i'm sorry i was late, i took this little kid called peter to the bathroom because mr d asked me to, i swear i'd help you quicker if i didn-"

"percy, hey, it's okay." you shushed him, your hand caressing his arm. "you already saved my life."

percy nodded again. "yeah i know, i know. but i just," he sighed. "i don't know what i'd do if i lost you before i even asked you out."

you giggled to his chest. "yeah? you were gonna ask me out? when?" he smiled into your hair.

"today. been watching you for sometime now."

"creep." you joked.

"observing beauty, i'd say." he said, smirking.

you sat straight and looked deep into his eyes, which now matched with the color of the sea.

"i'd love to grab some lemonade with you, as a way of thanking you i guess." you said as you smirked back at him. percy chuckled as his hand caressed your cheek.

"who am i to refuse a sweet thank you, right?"

[thecherrygod]

why the fuck is it that it doesnt matter what i choose with regards of my skin one of the options always involves pain

[spellbinding10]

Okay… so Umbrella Academy season 4…SPOILERS!!!!

I know that maaaannnyyy people were not happy with Lila and Five, but I’m not gonna lie, in a way they were meant to be.

Now there’s the supposed “age gap” but we have to remember that, although he’s physically 19/20, Five is older than Lila. Yes she “watched him grow” from a mid teen but Five was so many years his own senior. And he was a legal age He was mentally 68 and has lived 2 maybe 3 lifetimes already. And for the most part he lived them alone.

I think that we all need to remember that five was alone for so long. He went back to his family, wounded, isolated and with foreknowledge that no one could comprehend. Lila is the only one that truly understands what it feels like to feel out of place in Time. They were raised by the same morals and merits. They understood what no one else could. They both have been through unimaginable pain and suffering. And I think they had the ability to heal one another, in fact they did. Five saw Lila for who she truly was, he cherished her and appreciated all of her. Her chaos, her madness, compassion, courage and mind.

Now I had the start of Lila and Five returning to her family scene paused for sooo long. I couldn’t bear watching it. Did I? Yeah, love me a bit of angst. I really didn’t like how hurt Diego was, truly, but Five knew what Lila and he had was real and I can understand his anger. Do I condone cheating, absolutely not. I’ve been cheated on. But I’m also one for “the right person”, so in a FICTIONAL world I understand. I can also understand why Lila needed to end it ,for the sake of her children, because that’s what true love is, the love of your children. But he was there when she had to let her family go. He stood by her side and comforted her even though she had broke his heart. And thank BrOKe me!

There also seems to be a lot of posts about the REAL Five Hargreeves. Guys that is character development. Is it positive. Eh, ish. But not all people grow in the same way. Yes Five would do anything for his family. But I don’t think he “gave up”. Five has always been logical, from the very start. His sole purpose in life was to get back to his family and save the world. Save the people of that world, their lives, the very essence of life. And he did that. He didn’t give up. Five found out that his family was the cause of it all. He didn’t sacrifice them to be selfish. He couldn’t stand to watch his family die over and over. They would never rest, never know peace and they would spend the rest of their lives knowing that each apocalypse was their fault. It took courage to tell them. They could have kept going on. Klaus, would have kept using. Luther would still be in anguish over Solan (also where the fuck was she in all this? - anyway, no, another time) Allison would have kept loosing Claire. And every one of them would have kept loosing something in that particular time line that they cared about. I dunno man. I think Five is the same as he always was. He lived alone in the apocalypse surrounded by the destruction of life. He ensured it wouldn’t happen ever again. He did his job. He saved his family. The world.

So yeah, you’re all entitled to your opinion and you have your reasons for it. This is mine. I liked Five and Lila. The ending was, peace and love to the writers, bullshit - though bittersweet I suppose, but bullshit.

[medusapelagia]

Love at first sight

written for @corrodedcoffinfest (Prompt 6: HEARD IT IN A LOVE SONG) and @steddie-week (Day 6, Prompt: Dizzy / drunken confessions) Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: none Words: 997

The music pumps in his ears and Steve might have drunk a little bit too much. Not enough to run to the bathroom but enough that he feels dizzy and happy for no reason, so he slams his glass on the bar counter and moves toward the dance floor.

The people are dancing around him like a human tide and all he wants is to go adrift. Someone grinds against his ass but he doesn’t even turn. Steve needs this, a little bit of human contact, the feeling that he’s wanted even if his parents just sent him their last check with a letter saying that from now on he’s on his own.

He should have told Robin, but she was on a date with the pretty barista she had a crush on since forever so he just crumpled the letter and threw it in his drawer, took his keys, and got to his favorite gay bar and started to drink the last money his parents gave him. No better way to spend it after all.

Someone bumps into him too hard and Steve loses his equilibrium. Trying not to fall on the ground he grabs the first thing he can, which apparently it’s a leather jacket.

Fuck.

Leather jackets mean bikers or metal heads, usually closeted ones that will get really angry.

“I’m sorry…” he slurs, “I tripped and…” Steve starts to apologize, but the man that’s looking at him is the most beautiful man he has ever seen. Long curly dark hair, deep dark eyes, and a mischievous smile painted on his face.

“You ok, sweetheart?” He tells him, holding Steve up, “Too many drinks, huh? It happens to the best of us.”

The man chuckles, making sure Steve is stable enough on his feet before turning toward his group of friends, but Steve’s hand is still holding tight on his leather jacket.

“If you could let go of me we could go back to our friends, sweetness,” the man smiles, prying Steve’s hand open.

“No.”

“No? Don’t you want to have fun with your friends?”

“No friends.” Steve tries to explain, and the man frowns.

“You here alone?”

Steve nods, but the sudden movement makes him feel dizzy again. Luckily the other man grabs his arm and stabilizes him once more.

“Sorry… my head is spinning.” Steve apologized, hiding his face behind his free hand.

“Why don’t we sit for a moment, huh?”

“Eddie, come on! This round is on you!” Someone yells next to them, and Steve notices at that moment that he’s not in the middle of the dance floor anymore, but close to the bar counter.

The man grabs his wallet from his back pocket, one hand still holding Steve’s arm tight, “Need to get back to the table. Take what you need.”

“But how can I bring all the beers back?”

“I’ll ask Jeff to help you, don’t whine!”

Steve looks at the dark-haired man and asks, “Eddie?”

“Yeah. That’s me. What’s your name, sugar?”

“Steve.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve. Why don’t you sit with me and my friends for a moment?” he proposes, dragging him toward the bar's private area, “We’re celebrating. We just signed our first contract with a musica label.” Eddie winks, “What about you? Something to celebrate?”

“My parents officially disowned me. And I’m drinking the last money they sent me.”

Eddie hums with a sad smile, “I know a thing or two about shitty parents. But maybe getting drunk in a bar alone isn’t the best choice to deal with things like that. People could take advantage of your state.”

“Are you going to take advantage of me?” Steve asks innocently, “I would let you if you wanted to.”

Eddie snorts, “Thank you for the offer but I’m the kind of guy who prefers full consent to drunk consent. Hey guys! This is Steve! He’s having a bit of a hard day so he’s staying with us until he feels a little bit better and we can send him home safely.”

“Hi Steve, I’m Jeff. Would you like a glass of water?”

“That’s a great idea. Why don’t you get one for him while helping Gareth with the beers? I gave him my wallet.”

“You gave your wallet to Gar?” another man asks, ginning, “He’s going to spend all your money. I bet twenty dollars he will come back with the most expensive bottle he can find.”

“Not my problem, Freak. You know I don’t really care about money.” Eddie shrugs, sitting next to the tall boy who keeps grinning.

“So you found another stray, Eddie?” Freak asks, scooting over to let them sit.

“I can't tell one from another. Did I find you or you find me?” Eddie replies, turning toward Steve who stares at him in confusion, “It’s a line I heard in a love song, always wanted to use it, never got the occasion. Till now.”

“Maybe wait for him to be sober before hitting on him, huh? Don’t worry. Eddie is dramatic like that, but he’s a good guy.”

“I think I love him,” Steve whispers to Freak way too loudly, and the big man chuckles.

“Look at you, Eddie! You just signed your first contract and already found yourself a groupie!”

Eddie reaches out for the glass of water that Jeff is holding and gives it to Steve, “Drink it all like a good boy.”

“I do.” Steve insists, taking Eddie’s hand and putting it over his chest, “Can’t you feel my love for you? It’s like you said. We were meant to find each other.” 

If Steve wasn’t drunk he would feel ashamed of himself, but what he said it’s true. He never believed in love at first sight, but now he would swear by it.

“Ok. Ok. Now drink your water and if tomorrow morning you’ll feel still in love with me,” Eddie says, fishing a chewed pen and writing a number on a napkin “call me.” 

Now with a second part

[msnihilist]

Your idea of playing with your dollies is a father sexually abusing his son. And you romanticize it. And before you argue “Yeah but there’s dark content in media that romanticizes it!” Yes, they exist but it does not mean it’s depicted in a positive light. It’s portrayed as scary and traumatizing to the character in question. And while they’re not an actual person, it hits home to victims. There is nothing okay with going “tee hee rape!”

Yep, it sure is! And I sure do :)

"that does not mean it's depicted in a positive light" I'm sorry, did you think that the cannibalism in Hannibal was just ketchup, too, or something? Dark media constantly romanticizes this sort of stuff. The primary relationship in Hannibal is scary and traumatizing, yes, but also romantic. The good ending is that the two toxic lovers eat people together.

Black Butler has two cousins in a romantic relationship, and their engagement is taken very seriously by them both and is in fact a core component of their characters. It's an incestuous relationship played completely straight and taken seriously by the writer and is definitely not scary or traumatizing.

Invincible has a relationship between an immortal man and a girl who is 20 at the most (literally a part of "Teen Team," I doubt she's older than that), and not only is it shown to be healthy, but her death devastates this man, even having lost so many others in his long, long life.

In Futurama, one of the main characters time traveled and fucked (and impregnated) his grandmother. Not only is this not shown to be scary or traumatizing, it's a reoccuring joke, referenced multiple times, and it is plot-important so you can't even explain the underlying plot of the show without mentioning it.

The Coffin of Andy and LeyLey is a horror game, and the good ending is the brother and sister characters fucking each other. Incest is literally good for them.

So, yes, media depicts these topics in a positive light frequently. Do you know why? Because no one cares.

This is all adult content made for adult consumers, and if you need everything you read or watch to tell you that rape and incest are bad, then you are the problem.

Do you know what does hit home to victims? My writing. My best friend is someone I met through my writing. She told me that as someone who had been abused and groomed, my stories where the underage character and the adult get a happy ending make her cry. Why? Because in fiction, I have the power to make this story have a happy ending.

In my fantasy world, the kind adult isn't secretly a predator. There is no power imbalance. The kid can be emotionally mature enough to handle this relationship. The adult can actually be safe and not just a creep. The relationship can last a long time and be safe and happy for the both — because it's not real.

It gives my friend (and victims like her) great comfort to indulge a bit, and imagine that their story could have ended happily, too. Obviously, it couldn't have in reality — that's why my friend is reading about it instead of running back to her abuser.

Stop trying to police fantasy. You are hurting people — harmless thoughts are not.