#so the brain farts get contained here

[thousandbuns]

Branching this off to the sideblog so I can do an extra bit of late-night weirdo-screaming in peace.

Like... I get it. I do. I’m not an anti-shipper with reading comprehension that’d shame a literal child (even if my brain sometimes dips into a rotisserie chicken mode because I’m kind of dumb by default and prolonged exposure to social media only made it worse). I sometimes joke about my own 40K characters, and for the vast majority of them I’d have to mark “(Chaos) Space Marine” on GW’s faction census. I call them silly little things like “dad who stepped up” (for a renegade Iron Warrior sergeant), “sweet cinnamon bun too pure for this world” (for a Khorne-influenced ex-Space Wolf) or “sopping wet little meow-meow” (for a Thousand Sons exile turned Tzeentchian Sorcerer). But that’s just that, a shallow little personal giggle I’m having while remaining acutely aware that it’s, at best, a very superficial and quirky-fandom-shitpost reading. And if you ask me to actually go into details (or somehow patiently wait for me to stop faffing about, do my “research” and actually start writing My Big Dream Project instead of just doing more out-of-context-who-the-hell-cares rambling on social media), I’ll talk your ear off about toxic masculinity, fascism, destruction and exploitation of human emotions and bonds, cruelty and pointlessness of war, inability to break out of broken systems, imbalance of power, generational trauma, systemic abuse etc., and how all these things coalesced into some utterly fucked-up and largely amoral people.

Because you can’t really be a good person as an Astartes, no matter how hard you try to be or claim otherwise. You wouldn’t even exist as an Astartes, loyal or renegade, if a fundamentally and irredeemably evil empire wasn’t first raised on a galaxy-wide mound of corpses using your forebearers as a vital part of its murder-machine. You’re a child, a teen at most, torn away from your family and transformed into a living weapon. Your humanity is at best a tool to control you, and otherwise a defect - an undesirable flaw, or even a source of your damnation. You’re a victim. You’re also the perpetrator, and the suffering you’ve inflicted may surpass your own thousandfold.

But just because you’re meant to be a crude, obedient tool of oppression doesn’t mean you lack depth. There are layers and nuances to you, to how you spiral downwards or fight to stay afloat, how you cling or let go of your humanity and how your personal agency aligns or clashes against what seems to be the hand of Fate itself. You’re a broken, messy thing caught in a dysfunctional system that feels too large to tackle on your own, and that means there are many parts of you scattered around that someone may be inclined to collect and piece back together.

The issue isn’t with relating to and obsessing over borderline-conscience-free lumps of personal hangups that conduct themselves in ways that lead to a death toll in the hundreds every other day. It’s with taking that shallow, or even a joke read - often steeped either in the universe’s own propaganda or skewed fandom interpretations - and treating it as the text, the body, the core. It’s somehow buying into the idea that Primarchs were “kind fathers” because they felt sad for all of five minutes over hundreds of their child soldiers dying while conquering another worthless rock for the sake of painting some distant corner of a galactic map gold - and ignoring the fact that the existence of said soldiers was precluded by deaths and mutilation of countless other children. By conquest of another planet, subjugation of another society, and destruction of some part of its culture, be it by force or through extreme propaganda. That even a “peaceful” and “enlightened” society, like that of Prospero - a society formed by outcasts fleeing from injustice and persecution! - was made to agree to surrender hundreds, if not thousands of young boys to feed a giant machine of colonial destruction that existed by and large only to tickle one man’s oversized ego.

I’m not saying you can’t dig into (to continue with the above example) the Primarchs and find something that will resonate with you. You can enjoy them, and you can joke about them, and treat them with as much spur-of-the-moment levity as I do my characters whenever I sit in this corner to gurgle something about “cringe-ass gay nae-nae baby Khonsu”, or whichever else byproduct of my maladjustive daydreaming I happen to be fixating on this week. Just... remember to take a step back once in a while, give yourself a tap on the shoulder and do a little reality re-adjustment. It’s not meant to be patronizing, by the way - it doesn’t mean you’re low on reading comprehension or anything, just that even fictional propaganda can be very insidious and human brains are illogical things that love to entrench themselves around things that feel “right” or “pleasing” to them (even if they are neither of these - like certain persistent thoughts plaguing many depressed people, myself included). And unfortunately in the case of 40K, the in-universe narrative also swings dangerously close to violent IRL ideologies and bigotry - so a good dose of self-awareness and caution is all the more advised, as this punk bar is already full of skinheads.

We've talked a lot about the primarchs but in general who in 40K is the best parent? Grandfather?

We talking actual named characters or generally? Because Nurgle is an asshole, so not him. Probably one of the Eldar gods, most likely Isha. She is, by all accounts, actually just nice and did a lot for her children, based on her domains.

If we go overall, then it’s absolutely some random single parent on a factory world, slowly dying from seven kinds of miner’s lung but still using their work pittance to buy their kids decent food and tell them fun bedtime stories every night.

Got a bit bleak, didn’t it? Ough

[ccrites]

Signal Lost

I've had something happen to me that's so incredible and that I could have never hoped, something so touching and so unbelievable that it made me rethink a whole lot of stuff: a wonderful reader on Ao3 started reading my long-form fic (101k words!!!) and commented basically every chapter after a certain point. And wow, I would have never thought something like this might happen.

And yeah, it is my first fic with plot in it, yeah I will never believe it to be perfect, but it's good enough. And receiving all those emails from Ao3 really was the highlight of my days over the course of which I saw said reader slowly go through all my favorite parts!

And so I wish to give it some spotlight here, while I'm finishing up my school year and work and whatever! I will post this here for now, but I will drop chapters every few days and make a Masterlist for it this weekend. (nvm I don't have the energy to do this any time soon lmao) I have too many loose ideas in my head so this is just to pass the time till the brain worms wiggle all in the same direction

So without further ado:

Link to AO3 here : Signal Lost - a John Price x reader fic

----- here's a blurb to pique your interest!

“I don’t think I’ve ever received a document as classified as this one. What am I supposed to do with it, Kate?” he says, dragging his thumb across the pile of papers, each file filled with more ink than the last.

“You asked for proof, there’s your proof,” Laswell says.

“You said you’ll bring someone competent, and who can help us, this doesn’t tell me shit.” He stares blankly at the screen, tired. She stares back.

“The Captain specifically asked to keep this under wraps.”

He rubs at his face, scratching at his beard. It’s getting long again.

“Who is he, anyway?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

He groans again, picking up the file on top. No photo, no name, no age, no height, weight, no nothing . And he thought Simon was secretive.

“What can you tell me?”

“It’s the closest we’ve ever gotten to him. Did things a particular way.”

He shifts through the papers. “And the discharge?”

“Left after the entire team got wiped out. Messy stuff.”

“That why he doesn’t show his face?” He bends forward, grabbing the cigar from the ashtray and bringing it to his lips.

“John.” Her voice carries a heavy warning.

“Just sayin’,” he says, biting around the cigar with one side of the mouth. “What kinda captain doesn’t go down with his men?”

“Got enough guilt as is. You’re lucky I convinced them.”

They both remain silent. They know the missions would be a slippery slope. One wrong move and a war is started. He puffs a cloud of smoke.

“Anything else?” John asks.

Kate looks to the side, her face illuminated by another screen. He can see her hesitate, her lips are pursed in a thin line as if she’s debating her options.

“You’ve worked together before.”

His face lights up. “Finally! Who?”

Her face immediately hardens back up. “Can’t tell, John, my hands are tied.” She sighs. “You were still a Lieutenant.”

Years ago then. He mentally catalogs everyone he’s ever worked with, but he knows that at that age, he was throwing himself at every available mission, wanting to make a name for himself. “So an old fart then? How’s that gonna help us?” If the guy was a Captain when he was still a Lieutenant, and he felt himself grow old, he can’t imagine who Laswell is bringing back from the dead.

Laswell’s face distorts, he knows he’s pushing her buttons, but he has to know.

“Not older than you John.”

His eyebrows raise. “Oh?”

---

or

returning to the military to hunt Makarov is hard enough, to do it with your past lover is even harder. a "friends to lovers to enemies to friends and back to lovers" story

---

Tags and other CW: will be posted for each chapter containing warnings for more hardcore stuff (i.e., torture and angst namely), but this is a fanfic, with smut, so if you want all the tags feel free to check the ao3 link bc there are a LOT and I am lazy to retype them all here

[previousloversandmuses]

FREQUENCY: Episode 7 - A Soldier Boy Story

FREQUENCY: A Soldier Boy Story

EPISODE 7: “Dead Man Walking”

WORD COUNT: 6033

PAIRING: Soldier Boy X Reader

WARNINGS: (NSFW) SMUT (spoiler sorry) (finally) P IN V UNPROTECTED SEX (pls use proper birth control in your everyday life) Mentions of suicide, depression, drug & alcohol use. Violence, stalking. Homelander and SB being themselves. Offensive slurs.

A/N: This story is dark, and covers mature themes. The main character, as well as other major characters, are offensive in nature, and may offend some people. Please peruse with caution, and remember that this is fiction. Reader discretion is advised. Please message me for any questions, comments, or concerns.

PLEASE DISREGARD SPELLING ERRORS AND FORMATTING ISSUES SOMEONE BROKE MY COMPUTER AND I HAD TO FINISH WRITING AND UPLOADING THIS ON MY PHONE. I WOLL EDIT THIS WHEN I GET HOME TMRW ON MY DESKTOP BUT I WANTED TO GET IT UP ASAP ILY

Masterlist | Taglist

Sure, he could have ventured downstairs and harassed Vought Security by now, but no. He wanted the satisfaction of guessing this. He wanted to know how well he knew her. He wanted her to know how well he knew her. That he would appear on her doorstep like a knight in shining armor. But right now, he’s convinced he doesn’t know her much at all.

He started with her birthday, which he didn't know, but neither does she-- at least, he didn’t think she did. He’s not sure when his birthday is either, and they were both raised in the lab, so. That makes sense, right? He tried her favorite color, which he thinks may be green? That would make sense? She likes the forest? But it also could be pink because she is a woman after all, and all women love pink. Celebrity crushes? Him, of course, but that doesn't work either. And he thinks he doesn’t have the emotional security to even try another name.

“ILoveJohn…”Johnandme”...“John123”… “john1234” … ”homelander” … ”ilovehomelander”...”green”...”green123”...”password”... “frequency3” … “frequency123”... “freak+john”... “freakandjohn”... “ilovepink” …

She has her real name too, not “Freak”. Her real name, her given name, her birth name-- which he's sure is beautiful and suits her well. He just has no idea what it is. He has scavenged every computer file attached to Vought for years trying to find out even a hint. It has always come up dry. Without a lead. He has brutally assaulted security personnel over it.

“How fucking hard is it to find a fucking name? A registered supe name?” He would scream.

They would stammer, and quiver, and beg for their lives. Saying some Vought files are strictly kept on paper, so they could avoid the possibility of a cyber attack. That, of course, was never good enough for him.

“And you can’t even tell me the location of the fucking file, at least? Are you that fucking incompetent and mentally retarded? How the hell did you idiots even get a goddamn job here?”

Then he would raid storage rooms all round the city. Data centers from here to DC, which contain the most sensitive information. Of course, he’d threaten them too.

The worst part of it all, the only person he’d met that knew her name, was her. And of course, she never, ever told him. She taunted him with it. He begged like a dog salivating over raw meat.

He works at it for a few more hours until he goes for help. He must've just spelled something wrong, or is having some sort of brain fart.

When he enters the security room, the intern from the other day is already there. She had the night shift tonight, he's assuming. Although he hopes she isn’t on the clock as she snores onto the keyboard in front of her.

He clears his throat, looking around awkwardly--which does nothing. He then grabs a pen from next to her, and pokes her with it. Still nothing. He rolls his eyes, then claps so hard her hair flies back in a gust of wind. She jolts awake. Disoriented. She grabs her ears in pain.

“What the fuck?” She cries.

“Move.” Is all he says as he pushes her out of her swivel chair and takes her place. He hands her the computer from over his shoulder like it's a piece of paper. She grabs it reluctantly.

“What is this?” She asks, rubbing the side of her head to self-soothe.

“You have eyes. I need you to unlock it for me.” He mumbles, peeking down at his cuticles.

She inspects the computer, then sets it on the table next to him. She squats down onto her knees so she doesn't have to bend over. Grabbing a cord from the computer, she connects it and then waits for her main system to boot up.

“I need you to move a little, please…Sir.” She grimaces, moving over his shoulder to begin working on unlocking the computer.

He sighs, craning his neck over to the left so she could squeeze in. She begins to type, pulling up some system he doesn't want, or care to know about. She taps her hand impatiently on the mouse until-

“A-ha,” She says smiling, leaning back over to the laptop and typing in the information. “There you go.”

She hands the open laptop back to him. He inspects it with hesitance. Almost nervous to see the contents inside.

“What was it?” He asks, trying to be nonchalant.

“What was what?” She asks, not daring to look him in the eyes.

“The password.” He presses, glaring at her.

“Oh, um,” She pulls at her collar. Was it getting hot in there? “It was uh, fuc….”

He tilts his head towards her in a feigend attempt to understand what the fuck she just said.

“I’m sorry, in fucking english please.”

She swallows the lump in her throat.

“It was, uh, fuckyoujohn…nicetryasshole…” She grimaces.

He nods his head. Right. Of course it was.

---

When a maaa-aan loves a woman

Can't keep his mind on nothin' else

He'd trade the world

For the good thing he's found

The club had gotten significantly more packed as the night went on. The two of them are squished together, her back to his front. He nestles his face into her neck as he sings along to the songs blasting through the speakers. They are both wasted beyond belief. Ama and Asher had bought everyone a round of drinks after the long awaited makeout.

If she is bad, he can't see it

She can do no wrong

And turn his back on his best friend

If he puts her down

This was it. This is everything he needed to feel better. It was like he was floating. Her smell was intoxicating. He had never been this close to her skin before. It radiated a bouquet of roses and vanilla, even through the sweat and cheap liquor. He would never admit it to her, but he thinks he was pining for her since the moment he saw her. Like a mirage. It was one of those moments where the breath is stolen from your lungs. Where you’re taken aback by the sheer intensity of the moment.

When a man loves a woman

Spend his very last dime

And trying to hold on to what he needs

He'd give up all his comforts

And sleep out in the rain

If she said that's the way, it ought to be

When a man loves a woman

He begins to think in his foggy, mashed potato brain, that maybe, just maybe, everything he ever did, everything he ever experienced, was to lead him straight to her. That his time hidden away, chilled to the bone, was the universe crafting her especially for him. Like she was a hot summer day, and he was a piece of ice thawing out on the hot pavement. That he got to spend thirty years in hell to reflect and remember and regret, so he could be ready for her.

I give you everything I've got

Trying to hold on to your precious love

And baby baby please don't treat me bad

When a man loves a woman

Deep down in his soul

But he could just be drunk. Lovesick after what felt like eons of being starved of affection. Maybe he was more drunk off the scent of her than the liquor. He used to be able to hold it much better than this. But as she sways, and sings, and keeps her sweet feet planted on the ground, he can’t help but imagine that this was all he was ever made to do. Gee, when did he become such a sucker?

On the other hand, she definitely doesn’t have the capacity to even think in abbreviations, let alone full, complex, and poetic run on sentences about how they quite possibly had been made for each other. She was so drunk, she almost called him John a few times now. I mean, like father, like son, right?

Ah- there it is. There’s the thing she was so eager to stow away into the deepest parts of her brain the moment she even began to feel an inkling of attraction to this ancient man.

Her hand flies over her mouth- she thinks she’s going to be sick. What a way to ruin a great moment.

She goes stiff in his arms, he doesn’t notice at first until he looks down and sees her clawing at Ama.

Her eyes are wild, nervous. She hates being sick like this. Vomiting was no fun for someone who not only was a germaphobe, but experienced the five senses tenfold. A simple puke in the toilet became something of midevil torture when you considered the sights, the tastes, the smells-

Ugh, why the hell did she take that last shot?

Ama holds onto her shoulders, cocking an eyebrow, visibly confused. That is until she sees just how cartoonishly green she is. Her skin is completely rid of all colors. Her legs giving out on the dance floor.

Ama yanks over one of the other girls from the res and peels Freak out of Ben’s vice grip.

“What the fuck?” He shouts over the music, watching as the two girls float her out of the crowd.

He follows them out, tripping over Amas heels.

“I was in the middle of using that!” He shouts.

Ama pushes Freak and her friend into the bathroom, and whips her head around to him, rolling her eyes.

“Okay, well that can’t hold its liquor and is about to spew chunks all over the place. So I’d recommend going back with Asher.”

“What?” He asks, trying to push past her and into the ladies room. “Is she alright? Let me through.”

“Oh no no no,” she says, stepping in front of him. “You can happily wait out here.”

A club goer leaves from the bathroom, her flaming, flamboyant gay as her accessory. She looks Ben up and down, scoffing.

“Pervert.” She sneers.

Her gay friend, who is wearing more makeup than she is, glares at him even harder. Ben watches them in shock as they go back out onto the dance floor.

“Was that a girl or a guy?” He grimaces.

Ama cocks an eyebrow, scoffing.

“Please go listen to NPR, or put on CNN, I’m begging you. For the good of the world.” And with that she shuts the door in his face.

Ama walks over to the stall Freak is currently knelt in. Their friend holds back her hair as she dry heaves into the toilet.

“J-John-“ she groans incoherently.

Ama and the girl look at each other.

“Who is John?”

She puked again. Coming back up for air, “John- he’s John…”

BLEH

The two girls turn back to freak, cocking their eyebrows.

“Right…John…” Ama says, reaching down to pat her back.

Freak pulls herself away from the toilet, wiping her mouth off, trying to turn around to them.

“No j-john… he- Ben..”

BLEHHH

The girls grimace as she hurls into the toilet again.

“Freak, what about Ben?”

“He’s his dad…”

“Who is who’s dad? What about Ben’s dad?”

Freak grips on to the sides of the stall now, trying to bring herself up to her feet.

“H-homelander,” She grumbles.

Now that’s a name they know. And a name they know that she knows very well.

“Wait, Homelander is Ben’s dad? How would that even work?” Asks the other girl.

Ama glares at her, then turns back to Freak.

“What about Homelander? Does he know you’re here?!” Ama is worried now, grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her towards her face.

She looks half asleep. She doesn’t answer, just smacks her lips and feels around for some sort of water source.

“What about Homelander??” Ama cries.

“He-“ She hiccups. “Homelander is Ben’s son.”

Amas eyes widen. She lets go of freaks shoulders and steps back, hitting the door of the stall.

“I forgot- I feel like a pervert.”

Ama rubs her head, “No, no, you’re not a pervert.”

She squats down to get onto freaks level.

“He- I don’t know. This may change things. How angry would Homelander be if he knew you were going to screw his dad?”

Freak smiles, her eyes glossy and heavy. It’s a goofy smile, one that makes Ama grimace. There’s no way this girl had only four drinks.

“Let’s just hope,” she hiccups. “That Ben doesn’t find out I screwed his son.”

And with that she passes out onto the grimy tile floor.

-----

Her computer is exactly what he thought it would be like, organized and hard to maneuver. He didn’t understand her filing system, and he sure as hell wasn't going to ask the intern to figure out any more of her offensive passwords.

As he looked around in the files, he noticed that almost everything had been wiped clean. All the folders were empty, just leaving the titles of what could have possibly resided in them before. Bringing his eyes up to the top of the screen, he sees the history tab. He thinks there is no way she wouldn't have cleared it, but it's at least worth a try. He brings the cursor up, and selects.

Yahtzee.

She cleared everything else but this. Quite possibly the most valuable information of all. Her search history.

He begins to scroll down, taking note of the last visited websites. Wikipedia, and mapquest. He goes for the mapquest link first. It takes him to coordinates that look to be in the middle of nowhere in upstate New York. No buildings for miles. He sighs. Scrolling back up to the top of the screen, he then selects the wikipedia link. The color drains from his face. He looks like he's seen a ghost.

“Soldier Boy”

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

----

A picturesque morning. The birds are chirping. The sun is shining in through the cracked windows. A stream crackles along in the distance. The smell of coffee brings her out of her slumber.

Ah, what a beautiful day.

She sits up slowly, stretching out her sore limbs. Cocking her head to look out the window, she is greeted by sun rays--only then to let out a rough groan, grabbing her head in pain.

Fuck, she thinks. What happened last night.

The memories flood back like a scrapbook. More like images than pieced together scenes. She can see hints of the night, the important parts obviously sticking out like a sore thumb.

She drops her hands into her lap, looking down at her palms with shame. Was that- is that blood? No, no. It’s lipstick. Okay, just lipstick.

Turning her head cautiously, she checks the other side of the bed. It wasn’t undone, so it obviously wasn't slept in. She nods, applauding herself for not doing anything too stupid. Peering down at her body, she notices she’d been dressed in her own pajamas. That’s also a good sign. She knows for a fact if Ben undressed her, he would've just put her into bed stark naked.

From what she can ponder through the ringing in her ears, and the relentless pounding of her head, she doesn’t think she regrets the acts of the night before. She knew the moment she stared into his eyes last night that she had obviously felt something for him the whole time. She wonders if it's the mutual trauma bond. Similar to the one she and John share. John…his son. Bleh, and there is the warranted nausea. She doesn’t even remember how the hell she got home.

Did Ben carry her? Did Ama and the girls drag her down the road by her hair? Judging by the Sinatra playing from the kitchen, there really is only one way to find out.

She stares at the door in deliberation, stretching one last time. Why is her heart racing? Taking a deep breath, she pulls herself out of bed and through her bedroom door.

He sits on the sofa, coffee in one hand, the paper in another. She squints her eyes at him, dumbfounded.

“I’m sorry- are you reading the New York Times?” She gapes, cocking her eyebrow.

He turns back to her, taking a quick intake of breath. He smiles softly, setting his coffee down onto the table in front of him.

“I made coffee too.” He says smiling, like it was some huge feat

She looks around with her eyes, wondering what was so impressive about that. He notices her aloof response and sighs.

“I haven't made coffee in thirty years…and that one has a computer in it.” He crosses his arms.

He refers to the digital screen on the Keurig.

“Ohhhhh,” She says, grasping the importance. “It’s not a computer you idiot.”

“A small celebration for you and an all encompassing victory for me.” His ego was visibly bruised by her indifference.

She smiles at him softly. She thinks something would have been different. That maybe he would have lifted her off her feet when he saw her. Spinning her around and placing hundreds of little kisses all over her face. Enveloping her in their beautiful slow burn love story--unless last night was really just the heat of the moment. I mean, he was the player of the century after all. She looks down at him from her spot in the kitchen, and he meets her with the same eyes he always has. A sharp pain rings out in her chest, her heart sinking down into her stomach.

What a silly little girl, she thinks. A silly little girl to think something like that wouldve really meant something to him. The guy was out of his mind on any substance the facility had to offer last night. Nearly a gallon of liquor, for starters.

She looks down at her feet, then bends down to pick up one of her earrings she assumes fell out during her wrangle inside. She stares at it, turning it over in her hands. Her eyes are bruning. Are they- is she really welling up with fucking tears right now? Because she thinks some prehistoric asshole wouldn’t be willing to give her the time of day? She huffs, turning around and making her way into the bathroom.

“I’m taking a shower.” She calls as she closes the door behind her.

He sits on the couch with a confused expression.

She looks in the mirror. God she looks awful. Her makeup smeared, her eyebags sinking deep into the pits of the socket. Her cheeks hollowing out. She looks grotesque, and gross. Obviously someone who is planning on being gone within the next few weeks.

Right, she forgot about that. The activities with him from the night before distracting her from her imminent demise. A distraction, right. Thats all he is. She doesn’t need to be wasting her time on a man anyway. The future was what was really important. Her end goal being the greatest win of all. The most satisfying feat.

She steps in the shower, letting the warm water cascade down her hair and skin. She cups the water, bringing it up to her face, rinsing off the night before. She sticks her hand out of the shower, grabbing her toothbrush from the counter. She makes quick work of her teeth, also making sure to properly cleanse the impurities from her face and body. She sticks her arm back out to place to toothbrush back on the counter. A hand wraps around hers, grabbing the toothbrush. She jumps in response. How the hell did she not hear him come in there?

He takes the toothbrush and sets it back down on the counter. She rolls her eyes at him.

“A knock would be nic-” And before she can finish her sentence, he rips the shower curtain wide open.

She jumps again, her wet body fully exposed to him.

“Ben-” She begins, going to cover her breasts.

“Don’t,” He says, stepping one foot into the shower, fully clothed. She stammers, objectively confused. He shakes his head, looking down at her figure, and then back to her face, caressing her pretty cheeks. He then leans in. She's reluctant at first, her eyes staying wide open. She still has her body covered. But he takes his arm and wraps it around the small of her back and she's putty in his hands. She melts into his embrace as her eyes flutter closed. His mouth and hers mold together as the kiss becomes heated and sloppy. She can taste the fresh toothpaste from her mouth inside of his. The waster rushing in between them making it hot, wet, and messy. The water is hard, tasting vaguely of minerals. She doesn't care. She pulls back a little, but his mouth follows the flow of her face. She takes in a quick breath, gasping for air.

“Your clothes,” she starts, through broken peppered kisses all over her mouth and face.

“So take them off.” He mumbles like it was obvious.

This was a new one for her.

His clothes are heavy and fully drenched. She goes to lift off his skin tight shirt but struggles. He just reaches up and pulls at the collar, the whole thing ripping in two from the middle.

She looks down at his now exposed torso, brining a delicate hand up to rub up the ridges of his stomach. He looks down at her with gritted teeth. He hadn’t been touched like this in a very, very long time. He thinks he feels his skin burning. He sucks in air into his parted lips. Her mouth is agape, admiring his chiseled torso. She drags her hand up to his chest, her nails digging into his skin. Bens eyes roll back into his head. She’s not sure what to say.

“I,” she starts, chasing the rest of the sentence.

He looks down at her through heavy eyelids, bringing his hand up to her jaw and gripping it tightly. He holds onto her awed expression. Searching her face for any sort of reluctance. He sees nothing, although she is hard to read. Such an intense gleam of bewilderment.

He takes her hand from his chest and moves it down to the front of his pants. He lets out a deep groan. She looks up at him with the innocence of a girl gone untouched for years. She palms him gently, trying to elicit some sort of verbal response again. She enjoys the sounds he’s made. No sex had ever felt this intimate before.

She grips onto him harder, wrapping her nimble fingers up and around the button of his jeans. He watches as her hands make quick work of the top of his pants, beginning to drag them down the length of his legs. She follows them down to the floor of the shower, now ending up on her knees. She stares up at him through her eyelashes, staring directly at his rock solid package, begging to be set free.

He steps out of his pants, she grabs them and throws them out of the shower. They plop into a puddle on the floor. Her reaches down and grabs her chin again, pulling her up to meet his lips. He slips a strong arm behind one of her knees, hiking it up around his waist, never once breaking eye contact. Their lips graze, never touching. He reaches his hand behind her and grips her ass, kneading it like dough. She tilts her head back, letting out a small gasp. He leans into her neck, leaving a trail of nibbles from her clavicle all the way up to under her ear. She writhes under each one, her body struggling to stay upright. He doesn’t mind of course, this was light work for him. She was light as a feather.

He drags his other hand up her chest and around her supple breast. He toys with her nipple, pulling and twisting at it. He watches her pleased face from the crook of her neck. Then moving his mouth down and wrapping his lips on one of her stiff peaks. He sucks on it, nibbling slightly on the top. She watches him from her spot on the tiled wall. Her hand moving up and into his hair, scratching up and down his scalp. She swears he’s moaning more than she is. His eyes have gone white, making a new home in the back of his head.

He pulls back, now hiking both of her legs up and around his waist. He pins her against the tiled wall. Their noses brush, their lips grazing over each other. Her womb aches, begging to be filled. She had never felt this way with John.

“I’m rusty,” he whispers.

“If this is rusty I’m scared to see you well practiced.” She laughs breathlessly.

He smiles into her, kissing her gently.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, genuinely curious.

“Better now,” she coos.

He chuckles, planting a kiss on her cheek. His hands massage her ass, pulling apart the skin. Grazing his fingertips around the spots she so desperately wants him to fill.

“I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression this morning.” He starts.

She rolls her eyes, leaning her head back into the headboard.

“Is now really the time for small talk?” She asks, cocking an eyebrow.

He laughs again, moving one of his hands around to her front. He cups the soft skin of her pulsating heat. Teasing his digits around her swollen bud.

She moans, which in turn, elicits a big goofy smile from him.

“I didn’t realize you wanted me so bad.” He toys.

“I didn’t either,” she starts, arching her back off the wall. She gets in closer to his ear. “If only the V worked the same way on you. The only thing I could smell last night was how much I needed you.”

He groans into her neck, slowly inserting a long, thick finger into her dripping cunt.

“You feel that?” She asks.

“Fuck, do I?” He breathes.

He starts his slow assault on her pussy, rubbing his fingertips up and around inside of her. Massaging his augmented digits around until he can hear himself reaching the right spot. With her long, strung out moan, he can tell he’s gotten there.

From that, he inserts another, and begins to pulsate his hand in even, steady beats. She writhes against the wall, her stomach pushing into his. He kisses at her neck, biting and nipping, sure to leave a mark. All this talk of V has him forgetting how fragile she really was.

He pulls his hand out, and drops her legs. He steadies her as her feet slip around on the wet shower floor. He rips the curtain open. His hard cock standing at attention. Her mouth waters at the sight.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart.” He motions his hand out for her to take.

She looks at it reluctantly, then he leads her into the bedroom.

“I’m soaking wet,” she starts, yelping as he picks her up and tosses her on the bed like a ragdoll.

“Mm, that’s an understatement.” He smirks, crawling up the bed and nestling himself between her thighs.

“What if I told you I need you inside me right now?” She asks, pleading with him to fill her up.

He smiles, leaning down to face her pretty slit.

“Then I’d tell you you’d get it right after I had myself a quick taste. I’m starving you know?” He rebuttles, only then licking a thick, wet stripe up her dripping hole.

She tosses her head back, mewling. Her legs going to clamp around his head. He grabs her knees, spreading them apart, and pinning them down to the bed.

“Keep these open.” He mumbles.

He dives in feverishly, like he hasn’t eaten in years, and all things considered, he hasn’t. He starts on her clit, drawing circles with his tongue. Going back and forth between kitten licks and long thick stripes. He makes audible slurping noises, lapping up her juices from her hole, only to spit back into it making it even sloppier.

She is writhing back and forth, shaking as she fights to close her legs. Not that she even wanted to. Her body and brain were disconnected in this moment. Her muscles constricting and spasming. Her altered touch sense doing a number on her reproductive organs.

She tries yanking him up by his hair. Obviously he doesn’t budge. Still going forward with his assault.

“Ben,” she moans, giving up on physcial methods. “Ben please, I want you.”

He mumbles what she thinks is a “you have me”, but she isn’t too sure. Either way he doesn’t stop.

“No,” she whines. “I want you inside of me, please. Need it so bad.”

He lets out a deep groan, rubbing his hard cock into the mattress. Doing everything he can to relieve the intense pressure.

He sticks his head back up, his face glistening with her sweet juices. She moans at the sight. Sticking her pointer finger up, she beckons him towards her. He crawls on top of her until he’s hovering over her mouth.

Their lips barely touch, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip. She wraps her hands around his torso, digging her nails deep in his back. He sucks in air through his teeth. He lifts her knees up and over the bend of his arms, pushing them down onto the mattress. She watches from under him as he lines his angry, red cock right up to her slick entrance.

He sucks air in through his teeth as he sheathes himself inside of her hot core. His eyes roll back into his head. Fuckin A, he thinks. He feels like an addict getting their crack fix. He feels like a caught fish being thrown back into water. This was it. This is everything. Now he remembers why he was such a fiend back in the day. When good pussy was his only kryptonite. But pussy never came like this, he thinks. Pussy with personality, and similarities to himself, and beautiful eyes, and darkness, and light, and human. For once something he dips his cock in really feels human.

“Fuck me,” he groans, beginning to move into her slowly.

Her mouth is wide open, nothing coming out but strangled grunts. She takes it like a champ. Savoring every second his big meaty cock massages her deep, tight ridges.

He watches her face in awe, bringing one of his hands up and brushing strands of hair away. He kisses her lips, keeping his mouth there as he begins to speed up, hiking her legs up higher, and plowing into her sopping wet pussy.

The room is loud. Wet sounds and muffled moans fill the space. It’s hot, and humid. He swears the windows have begun to fog up. The two of them are ravenous. He tries to hold her down but she’s able to lift her hips up to meet his in a fit of impressive determination. This girl is a dream.

He readjusts, hiking her legs up onto his shoulders, admiring her smushed, fat pussy glistening under the flourecents. He watches himself disappear into her juicy folds, hugging onto him like a warm coat. Like a life vest. Squeezing him like a fucking blood pressure monitor.

He’s relentless now, pounding into her, and leaning down to suck her perky tits into his hot mouth. She gapes, her face contorted in pure ecstasy. No sounds leave her lips. Having the breath fucked out of her.

She regains it, letting out a shallow, strangled breath.

“Just like that,” she gasps. “Please, God, don’t stop.”

He smirks at her, wrapping a secure hand around her throat. Not squeezing, just simply for his own leverage. He goes harder, her poor legs definitely will be bruised by his fingertips tomorrow.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He shouts through gritted teeth.

His head flies back as he spills himself into her. She milks him for all he’s worth. He thrusts into her a few more times before collapsing on top of her chest out of pure exhaustion. He takes deep breaths, trying to catch his breath, which never happens to him. But this took everything. Something so pure and raw and good. A craving that had finally been satisfied. She rubs her hands into his scalp as he lays his head on her sweaty chest. He leaves cute, and quaint little kisses. This is it. He thinks. This is every reason to stay.

If only she felt the same way.

——

He stalks up to Ashley’s office, an unreadable look on his face. He barges into a meeting with her and some other Vought executive. Both of their heads flying up in surprise.

“Homelander, what a nice surprise.” She exclaims.

“Shut it, Ashley,” He presses, turning to the executive. “Get the fuck out of here.”

The executive looks at Ashley, and then scrambles away out the door. She watches him in horror as he leaves the room, the door slamming behind him. John doesn’t take his eyes off of her for a second.

“Why didn’t you tell me that the CIA had Soldier Boy's body?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow.

He gets closer, staring down at her with an intense gaze.

“I-,” she starts. He holds a hand out to stop her.

“And why the fuck didn’t you tell me that he had been fucking kidnapped from the bunker in upstate New York?”

She stumbles over her words as he glares at her. She can’t bare to look him in the eyes.

“Okay, first of all, we were under the impression that he had been eliminated.”

“Well, obviously he hadn’t been fucking elimated, Ashley!” He bellows.

She trembles, finally turning to face him. His nostrils are flared, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Let’s slow down. How do we even know he’s still alive? How do we know that he’s even escaped?” She searches for the right things to say. The way she knows to console him.

“Are you really fucking questioning me right now?” He scoffs.

She just stared up at him with big eyes, unsure how to continue.

He sighs, beginning to pace around the room. If Vought found out about Freaks' plan for the summer, they would surely kill her, which he didn’t want. Killing him? Obtaining Soldier Boy? That was fine. He’d happily fly him into the arms of the military and let them do whatever the fuck they wanted to him. But she was off limits. Anything that would happen to her would be in his own hands. He decides to not push it. Maybe just letting Ashley know about his disappearance was enough.

“You know what,” he lets out an ominous chuckle. “It’s fine. It’s fine! I’m sure he’s gotten himself out and is halfway through South America by this point.”

Ashley looks around, nodding her head. Anything he says goes. She'd rather keep her head than question what the fuck he had to say.

“Forget I even said anything.” And with that, he walks out of her office.

He’d take care of this himself.

Masterlist | Taglist

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[mutable-manifestation]

The Ghost King (of Miscommunication) Ch.22

Part 1-12,Part 13,Part 14,Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21

Part 22!

***

Jason knows Danny is letting him keep the lead - he’d seen how effortless it had been for the guy to outpace him before - but the ‘race’ is fun, anyway.

It’s less fun when he realizes Danny is giving him a bit of a lead while he is rapidly approaching a location with two complete strangers.

Not that all of his kidnappers hadn’t been relatively polite so far, but if you flip enough coins you’re bound to get tails eventually.

He glides to a stop just before the corner to the dining room doors and looks back to wait for Danny.

“Nervous?” he asks as he slows, (mis)understanding in his eyes. “Don’t be, they’re gonna love you.”

He smiles, wide and reassuring, and wow is the whole ‘this a forcible adoption’ thing is looking more likely. Which: what???

Asking Danny would be incredibly awkward if he’s wrong, and Wulf probably reports everything he does back to the guy so he’s out as well.

He’ll ask Elle or Jazz about it next time he sees them, he decides - he doubts he’ll find a way out of here before then.

Danny waits to let him take the lead, so he eventually floats out from behind the corner to approach the second couple he’s met waiting by the dining room doors.

Both of them share the same white hair and green eyes as Danny and Elle, and both look a year or two older than Danny, but that’s where the similarities stop.

The girl’s - Sam’s - skin is a pale, mint green color.

A lavender dress stretches from the base of her neck to mid-thigh, both ends having a jagged cut that makes him think of the leaves of the tower-tree. The dress sits under a deep black jacket a tad longer than the skirt. Matching black leggings lead to yet more bright lavender in the form of combat boots.

Platform combat boots.

Except the platform appears to be made of spikes.

If not for the fact that everyone seemed to prefer floating - even himself, by this point - Jason would fear for the floor.

The boy - Tucker - is back in normal human skin color territory at a medium brown. If you ignore the glow.

He wears a sky-blue long sleeved shirt and snow-white cargo pants - both trimmed in gold. Jason only knows his hair color from the small bit that peeks out from beneath his hat: a long, black beanie that drapes over either shoulder - also trimmed in gold. Strappy sandals take the place of shoes on his feet - the near polar-opposite of Sam’s footwear.

Both perk up from where they’d been whispering to each other as they catch sight of him and Danny, Tucker waving exuberantly while Sam shakes her head in amusement.

“Hey! You must be Jason,” Tucker smiles, lowering his arm as they float into a more conversational distance, Danny moving to peck Sam on the cheek and wrap the tip of his - ‘Are his legs gone, is that a tail? What?’ Jason mentally screeches - tail around Tucker’s waist.

“Or should I say… Jay-SON.” Tucker winked and made real, actual finger guns at that.

Well. That’s another point for the weird adoption theory.

Sam sighs, eyes rolling - fondly, judging by the contrasting smile.

“Ignore him. He died in the middle of a brain fart and it’s been going ever since.”

‘Died?’ Jason thinks, anxiety shuddering back to life from where it had finally begun settling down.

“Hey!” Tucker yells in mock-offense.

Sam and Danny chuckle.

“Anyway,” Tucker shakes his head, “Nice to meet you. I’m Tucker Phantom. The T ‘Ph,’ the Too Phine, husband to these two solid 10’s, the Ghost King 2: Electric Boogaloo himself.”

He points to Sam and Danny, then ends his little introduction with a dramatic bow. All Jason can focus on is the ‘Ghost King’ bit.

Sam picks up where he leaves off.

“Sam Phantom, Ghost Queen and wife to these two chuckleheads.”

Jason can no longer contain his questions, panic mounting.

“Ghost King & Queen!?” he shrieks, voice hitting a pitch he’d forgotten he could achieve when he was actually 15. “Wait- wait, you said King 2; DANNY is KING ONE!?”

The Tucker and Sam exchange looks before turning to Danny.

“Did you seriously forget to mention that you were High King of the Infinite Realms?” They chorus.

“Ah,” Danny scratches the back of his neck, “I guess so? My bad.”

Sam and Tucker double over cackling.

“Dude,” Tucker says, “How do you forget to mention that?”

“It’s not like it was relevant!” Danny’s cheeks puff out.

“Yeah, no big deal,” Sam teases, “‘Oh yeah, forgot to mention I’m the high king of the afterlife and all the dead bow to me, lolz.’”

“Wait, wait. Wait no,” Jason interrupts, terror lurching in his chest as he processes the lack of denial. “What do you mean dead and. And ghosts, I thought you were fae and- and why do I look like this? Did you KILL ME!?”

He hovers higher into the air - further away - anger and fear and denial and betrayal forming a roiling pit in his stomach.

(I can’t be dead I can’t be dead I’m NOT dead not dead notdeadnotdeadnotdead-)

“WHAT!? NO!” Danny’s reply is immediate, all three staring at him in wide-eyed shock and slowly creeping concern. “You’re a halfa! Like me! I explained this when you were in the healing tube back at the Far Frozen, don’t you remember?”

“NO! I DON’T REMEMBER! I COULDN’T HEAR ANYTHING IN THERE. WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!?”

“Man, I forgot how much human hearing sucked,” Tucker blinks.

Sam smacks his shoulder, hissing “Not the time!”

Jason takes heaving breaths, staunchly ignoring the wet sensations on his face in favor of glaring at Danny as he approaches, floating slowly, hands splayed in a gesture of peace.

“Jason, you’re no more dead now than you were when I found you.”

His voice is calm but firm. Factual and gentle at once. Jason can’t help but feel a bit safer.

He hates it.

“I’m sorry to have scared you,” he continues, “I should’ve sat down to talk with you when we first got back, but I let myself get distracted. That’s on me, and I am so, so sorry. But I promise I’ll explain everything-”

“Like I’m supposed to believe a kidnapper,” Jason cuts him off bitterly, resolutely ignoring the honesty he’d gotten so far.

“Wha-kidnapper? I’ve never kidnapped anybody!”

“Right,” Jason scoffs, drifting further away from them, “So I’m not kidnapped and unable to leave. And Wulf is actually my bodyguard and not just more anti-escape measures dressed up as someone who's meant to help me to lure me into a false sense of security.”

Sam stares at him, jaw dropped. Tucker is the same until he breaks the expression to turn to Danny, who also is in a similar state - though more heavily tinged by despair.

“Dude.”

“No,” Danny starts, voice strained, expression mournful, “I am so sorry you thought that, but no. I explained all this when you were in the tube- but you couldn’t- you didn’t hear any of it- I thought you just never said anything because you were shy-”

Danny’s hands move to scrub at the back of his neck as he speaks, eyes distant. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

Jason surreptitiously wipes his face.

“Okay,” Danny breathes out, eyes opening. “Okay. To start with - initially? Yeah, okay, to be fair you were - technically - kidnapped, since I kinda didn’t explain anything before dragging you Frostbite. But ONLY because you needed a doctor pronto if you wanted to stay not-increasingly-dead, especially when you were actively absorbing literal poison with no internal defenses and- and I’m rambling. That’s not the point. The point is, you were - and are - free to leave at any point-”

“Prove it,” Jason demands. “If I’m really free to leave, open a portal to Gotham.”

“I- okay. Alright, just. Here, Tucker has your phone ready - everyone’s numbers are pre-programmed in.”

Tucker pulls a phone out of one of his many pockets and tosses it to Danny. He catches it smoothly and holds it out to Jason, who looks at it suspiciously.

“You can call whenever you want - if you have more questions or just. Want to talk to someone about all this. Or for a portal back if you need or-” he grimaces “-want to visit. It should be able to take almost anything the living world can dish out, so if you’re worried about being tracked or something you can just. Toss it in a lake or something and fish it out whenever you want to use it. I’ll just- I’ll send a text. About…being a halfa. And everything.”

With that, he swipes a hand through the air, opening a portal and floating back to give him some distance.

Jason eyes the phone, then promptly floats by without it.

Danny doesn’t move to stop him.

He sticks his head through the portal.

On the other side is Clairemont St, the same alley Danny had found him in. He takes a moment to look over the dirty brick and rusty fire escape. It was every bit as trash-strewn as he remembered it.

The stars are out, he notes.

He hadn’t paid as much attention before, too eager for home and family and escape, but there must be a time difference between Gotham and Phantom Palace.

Halfway through the portal and no one’s moved to yank him back, even without the phone on him.

He pulls his head back out just in time to hear a harshly whispered “-outside of a damn medical center with an audience, Danny! And yes Frostbite counts as an audience! He’s a stranger to him!”

“I think he knows, Sam,” Tucker winces as he looks between the two.

Apparently they hadn’t noticed his return, Danny having floated back to the ground so that they were all well beneath him and the portal.

“It’s fine, Tuck,” Danny says, visibly drooping. “I deserve it for… for pulling a-” he swallows harshly “-a Vlad.”

He says the name with all the hatred and disdain of a vampire faced with sunlight.

Even Sam looks sympathetic at that.

“Danny-”

“I did Sam! He thought he couldn’t leave! He’s been here for over a week!” He runs a hand roughly through his hair. “And now he distrusts me enough he has to, what, make sure I didn’t open a portal to the middle of a lava lake?”

“I hadn’t considered that, actually,” Jason says, causing the three to jolt and look at him guiltily.

“Ah,” Danny starts, floating up - still so slowly - to be closer to eye-level, once again holding out the phone . “Did you want this after all…?”

He takes a moment to look at Danny appraisingly, then snatches the phone up to dump in one of his many utility pouches before drifting closer to Sam and Tucker - away from the portal.

He stops at a conversational distance, looking back up at Danny - who blinks at him with a look of stark confusion.

“I believe you,” he explains, “For some reason. I’ll want to go back to Gotham later, but right now? I have questions. You have answers.”

“Yes!” Danny jolts to life, waving the portal out of existence to drop down to join them. “Right.”

Jason gestures at the dining room doors, “Might as well do this over dinner - assuming the food will continue its trend of not killing me?”

Danny makes a keening noise and covers his face with both hands.

“No,” comes the muffled answer. He lifts his head. “All of the food you’ve been offered has been and will continue to be perfectly safe for you to eat.”

“Great.”

With that, he leads the way into the dining room.

***

Guys. I figured it out. I cracked the code. Why Jason is so adoptable? It’s in the name. Ja’SON’!!! WAKE UP SHEEPLE (/j)

Anyways.

Miscommunication has finally been identified! Next chapter: Q&A!

Sam has her +10 years jacket that she got in my au a year before she died because that’s the one part of her redesign I really liked. Eyes/hair & colors are inverted because of Danny, but the dress resembles her green undergrowth dress & the shoes have spikes because that whole thing - and her own adoration of plants - also influenced her self-concept/assumptions about what she’d look like dead.

Tucker’s Eyes/hair & colors are inverted also because of Danny, but the gold trim, white pants (which would’ve been red), & longer beanie come from his self-concept being influenced by the whole ‘reincarnation of a pharaoh’ episode/memory.

@mayoota-blog1 @kyrianclawraith, @do3y, @someonebored0100 @omegasmileyface @a-star-with-a-human-name @akikoyuii @newgraywolf @tytythehistoryguy

[sitcom-muppet]

I asked ChatGPT to write a Nostalgia review of Furry Vengeance

Disclaimer: Please be advised that the following text contains strong language and may not be suitable for all audiences.

Title: "Furry Vengeance? More Like Furry Bullshit!"

Hey guys, it's your favorite Nostalgia Critic here, and today we're gonna talk about a movie that made me wanna rip my own fur off! That's right, I'm talking about Furry Vengeance.

First of all, what kind of stupid-ass title is that? Furry Vengeance? More like furry bullshit! This movie is about a group of forest animals who team up to take revenge on a greedy developer who wants to destroy their habitat. Sounds like a great concept, right? WRONG!

Let's start with the casting. Brendan Fraser plays the main character, a real estate developer who's supposed to be the bad guy. But here's the thing - Brendan Fraser is too likeable to be a convincing villain! I mean, this is the same guy who played George of the Jungle, for Christ's sake! You can't make us hate him!

And don't even get me started on the animal characters. They're so poorly animated that they look like they were designed in Microsoft Paint! And the voice acting? It's like they picked up a bunch of random people off the street and said, "Hey, can you make some animal noises for us?"

But the worst part of this movie is the message. The whole thing is supposed to be about protecting the environment, but it's so heavy-handed and preachy that it just comes off as annoying. And the fact that it's all done through slapstick humor and fart jokes just makes it even more insulting!

I mean, I get it. Protecting the environment is important. But you know what's not important? Making a movie that's so bad it makes me want to claw my own eyes out! I'd rather watch a two-hour loop of the Dancing Baby than sit through Furry Vengeance again!

So if you're thinking about watching this movie, I have one piece of advice for you - DON'T! It's a waste of your time, your money, and your brain cells. Stick to watching documentaries about real environmental issues, or just go outside and appreciate nature for yourself. And for the love of God, stay away from Furry Vengeance!

[bbysamu]

Helloooo!! I know you most probably have a list of your upcoming works, but can you do another part of the HQ boys losing you in the mall?? 🥺👉👈 this time With daichi, kei, tobio, and wakatoshi?? Thanj you!! 💟

Haikyuu boys losing you at the mall // pt.3

featuring:: SAWAMURA Daichi, TSUKISHIMA Kei, KAGEYAMA Tobio, USHIJIMA Wakatoshi

genre:: slice of life / fluff 

warning:: none! 

⤷ Part 1 | Part 2

a/n:: thanks for the request! I always have so much fun writing this series. Pls lemme know if you have any other characters you wanna see! 

❥ SAWAMURA Daichi

Daichi seldom loses you because 1) he’s very careful and 2) the two of you are almost always touching in some way. Which is all the more reasons why he’s was surprise to feel himself grabbing onto empty air. “Y/N?” He looks around, trying to spot you in the crowd of people. “Y/n?” He shouts louder this time and catches the attention of the nearby security guard. “excuse me, sir, but are you looking for your child?” “no, my wife.” “well, she’s a grown adult so there’s no need for you to be shouting in a public area like this.” Daichi feels his cheeks get red and quickly mumbles an apology. Right on cue, you come running towards him with two ice creams in hand. “babe, look what I got for us!” Daichi quickly nods his thanks and drags you away as the guard looks on in disapproval. “Princess! where’d you run off to? I was shouting for you and got scolded by the guard.” You look at him curiously, “I said I was getting ice cream for us remember?” Daichi thinks back and vaguely remembers a distant memory. “right, but next time bring me along okay? I don’t ever want to experience a scolding from a guard again.” 

❥ TSUKISHIMA Kei

All it took was him taking off his glasses to clean them and you’re gone. Tsukishima sighs and pulls out his phone, shooting a quick text to you, “where’d you run off to this time? I’ll be waiting by the fountain.” Ten minute passes and still no reply from you. He quickly loses his patience, this was the third time this month you’ve run off while he was cleaning his glasses. Was it so hard to wait thirty seconds for him? He walks over to customer services giving the lady at the desk his sweetest smile. “hi, I seemed to have lost my wife, is it okay if I borrow your broadcasting system to make an announcement?” “uh...it’s not normally protocol for customers to make broadcasting announcements themselves, but since you’re asking so nicely...” Tsukishima smiles as the lady hands over the microphone. “Y/n, Y/n, please come to the customer service desk or I'll let this entire mall know how many times you fart in a day and--” Your husband gets cut off “sir! that is not appropriate!” You giggle as you quickly make your way over to customer services, not doubting your husbands threat for a second. 

❥ KAGEYAMA Tobio

“babe, I gotta run to Sephora real quick, meet me in about 10 minutes at our usual spot okay?” “wait, where’s our usual-?” Kageyama looks on helplessly as you get swallowed by the crowd. He looks down at his phone only to find it conveniently out of battery. The tall man stands in place, wrecking his brain for usual spots. About ten minutes later, Kageyama waits outside Panda Express. When you don’t show up, he moves to the next possible usual spot, the bench outside Victoria Secrets. When you still don’t show up, Kageyama starts to get worry, the way his brows furrowed and his fists clenched tightly drew the attention of the nearby sales. “um..sir? are you okay?” Kageyama looks up slightly embarrassed, “yeah I'm fine, I'm supposed to be waiting for my wife at our usual spot, except I don’t know where that is.” “oh um...would you like to use our intercom broadcasting system?” “oh sure, that’d be helpful.” He watches as the lady press the broadcast button, “Y/n, Y/n! Your husband is currently outside Victoria Secrets waiting for you. Please come here at your earliest-” Kageyama unable to contain his anger, interrupts with a “BOKE! HURRY UP AND MEET ME HERE!” “sir!---” Hearing your husband’s outburst on the intercom had you laughing and running at the same time, making a mental note to never leave him by himself at the mall again.  

❥ USHIJIMA Wakatoshi 

He lost you because he got distracted by a flyer about some discount on bags of rice and you lost him because you got distracted by an announcement of a Dean fan-meet at the mall. By the time he realizes, you’re already on the other side of the mall, waiting in line to get your high-touch. Ushijima tries the first logical thing, to call you, but reception was terrible and all he could make out was the screams in the background and you going, “m so excited--”. For a few minutes, Ushijima simply stands in front of the map of the mall. His big, intimidating presence scaring other costumers, who dare to only hover a few feet away, trying to catch a glimpse of the map. He sighs and starts to wander, hoping he’ll eventually find you. And he does. Ushijima literally finds you in the food court, looking down excitedly at your hand. “Y/n! where did you go? and why are you just looking down at your hand like this?” He tries to hold your hand, only for you to slap it away. “don’t touch this hand right now, I just high-fived Dean.” “who?” You don’t answer him, smiling down at your hand instead. “whatever, next time bring me along to see this “dean”. I don’t want to lose you again.” 

▸ Taglist: taglist is acting up, currently working out logistics. Sorry for not tagging you, I am trying to figure it out!

▸ Join My Taglist!

stay fetch, xoxo

[lssugaluv]

From Closures to New Beginnings.”

 This is part 8 to the “My First” series. 

Sorry for taking so long to upload. I have entered a brain fart with this series. I originally had this written but I decided to make a few changes. As I tried, I entered a brain fart so I decided to take a break from it. Now I am back. 

Please share or interact. <3 

Contains: Angst, yelling, quick makeout sesh, mentions of sex, injuries, reassurance, fluff moments. 

Time Skip Atsumu. 

For part 7, click here: “My Family” Part 7 of “My First” series.

You wake up the next morning and first take a shower. You then grab Benji to shower him. You had to get situated with your job transfer and new home. You decided it was best to find an apartment that was big enough for you and Benji.

Your phone rang and you saw it was Atsumu. You pick it up to hear his voice. "Y/n, meet me outside your home in 5." You quickly put on a matching track suit that was colored lilac and had your hair pinned with a clip. You then put on some slippers and walk out.

Atsumu arrived and he had a bouquet of sunflowers in one hand, while he had a dinosaur shaped cotton candy for Benji. "Can you bring Benji please?" The pretty setter asked as he handed you the bouquet. You ask your mom to put the flowers in a vase while you pick up Benji.

Benji saw his dad and ran to him. He yelled when he handed him the cotton candy. You three had a seat on the front porch's steps. It was a nice day outside, it was fresh but sunny. Benji sat on the grass eating his cotton candy while you and Atsumu began to conversate.

"Have you spoken to Akira?" You say as you place your hand under your chin. "No, not yet." You turn to him and tried to convince him too. "Look Atsumu. I know all this is new, but I didn't come back for you to cancel your whole plans. I came back so you can have a relationship with your son. You and I don't have to be together just because of Benji." He turned to you and answers your sentence. "I meant when I said I searched for you. I really wanted something with you. That night, it wasn't just another "sex" time. I made love to you. You mesmerized me. You were completely different from any girl I've ever dated or slept with."

You giggled a bit while he leaned his head on your shoulder. "Why does it feel like we're back in high school, but with a whole ass child." You ask as you both began to laugh. "Talk to her. If you want something with me, we both need to prove it to each other. But she also deserves closure." He agreed with you and took his leave.

                              Atsumu meets with Akira in her home.

" I came to talk to you Akira." Akira allowed Atsumu in her home. She looked like she cried all morning. "I want to apologize. I know this is all sudden. I came to properly call it quits with you. That's what you deserve, a proper closure." Akira stands up and puts her arms around the pretty setters’ strong shoulders. "After all we've been through, you decide to leave me?" She says as she pecks his lips. "I can't do this." Atsumu tries to respectfully push her away.

  "What am I?! What are we?!" The supermodel began to once again raise her voice at him. "Look, there was a point in life where I did fall for you. But I just never can get her out of my head." Akira slapped him straight to the face. He took the slap because he felt like he deserved it. "So you used me? You used me to forget about her?" She began to cry and Atsumu wiped her tears with his thumbs. She hugged him and began to cry. "I don't deserve this." He hugged her tighter and agreed with her.

  Akira pulled Atsumu's face towards her and pulled him into a passionate kiss. He tried to resist but she always had him wrapped around her finger. He wrapped his arms around her waist and they walked to her couch. She sat on him and slowly started to move her hips on his growing buldge. He felt his phone vibrate and he stopped kissing her, though she proceeded to his neck.

  She was leaving small bruises on his neck to remind him that he belonged to her. He looks at his screen while making small groans. He saw you were calling him. He quickly pushed her off of him and answered. "Y/n?!... Sorry I'll be there quickly."

Akira looks at him as he began to fix his shirt. "I need to go. My son fell and is going to the hospital." Akira tried to stop him by clinging herself on to him and continued kissing his neck. "Akira stop! I didn't come to have sex, I came to end things. I can't get married with someone I don't truly love. You and I were addicted to sex. That was the only thing that kept us together. You knew I was never happy with you. She's back. She's back with my baby. I need to be with her."

  Akira began to yell and tug his shirt. "You can't leave me!!" He grabbed her arms off his shirt and said "I'm sorry." He placed the ring on her table and exited her home.

Atsumu gets to the hospital where he sees Benji have a small cast around his arm. He quickly ran to you and hugged you. "What happened?" You told him that Benji was hyper and began jumping on the bed. "I- I told him to stop and he didn't. He fell as soon as I turned around and broke his arm."

Atsumu grabbed your head and pulled you to his shoulder. You got small faint of expensive perfume. You then looked up to see the small hickeys on his neck. You pulled away from his grasp. "Did you guys make up?" He looked at you confused. "What are you talking about y/n?" You then walk him to the nearest mirror in the hospital room and showed him his hickies. "I didn't know she did that. I really went for closure." You began to push him away. "Why did you come here? Why won't you go back to her?" He scoffed as he rolled his eyes. "I called off my wedding. I was never in love with her. I tried too but she was in denial. She came up to me and began to kiss me. That was all. Because of you, nothing else happened and I thank you."

"What are we Atsumu?!" He once again hears those words, but now coming from you. "We're Benjiro Miya's hot parents." He says trying to lighten up the mood. He grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle kiss. "I promise you that I ended things with her. I left the ring on her table. I told her I was sorry, but I was meant to be with you y/n." You then gave him a tight hug. "You really drive me nuts Sumu." He gave you a peck on the cheek. "Let me drive you crazy in bed sweet heart." You playfully hit his arm and then heard a knock on the door. The doctor came in and told you guys how to treat Benji's broken arm.

Before you guys exited the hospital, the doctor asked Atsumu for a picture. He accepted and you three walked out to go to the car. Once in the car Atsumu asked you if you can stay at his place. "I really need you and Benjiro." You agree and hold on to his hand.

Afterthought:

• I'm so happy that y/n did believe him. She knew deep inside that this must've been hard on Akira to begin with.

• See you on the next chapter. :-)

[morningstarlucemon]

RP Starters And Prompts Based On Stupid Shit Me And My Friends Have Said On Discord Calls (NSFW)

Adapt as needed~

Oh that's great! Encourage children to go out and grab neurotoxin lizards.

Cat-Litter Cooch sounds like a B-list Batman villain...

Biting me in the arm will not fix Japan's declining birthrate, Seven.

You have a very visible butthole.

Empty not thine bowls in the can into with thine brother screams.

Yo dawg can your clitoris run DOOM?

A tooth-brushing amount of mustard.

I want to smash my [redacted] against your [redacted].

Broke: bonding over kinks; woke: coming together.

X, NO THOSE ARE TEH ANAL BEADS!

... and send me your pp.

Thankfully, it was parasites.

Normal brain: fear boner; galaxy brain: dangerection.

Excuse me, sir. Would you like some Pineapple Fuck-Off?

Oh wonderful there's crop tops.

Why does his face look so familiar when he's compressed like that? I feel like I've sold onions to this person at Wal-Mart

I will ass-vore you, I swear to god.

SOULEY WOULEY.

"Ya good?" "NO!" "Oh, good, my work here is done then."

Dipple-fucking-docus.

Forethought, schmorethought.

Cannibalism can't solve all your problems, but it can solve one of them, i guess. Might create some more...

If the thing you're eating can have babies with you, not taking gender into account, then yes, i think it's cannibalism.

Oh no, my Adderall!

Panic! At The Mystery Flesh Pit National Park.

Listen... fuck you. I'm gonna sneak into your house in the middle of the night and place a Kraft cheese single on your forehead.

Broke: agnostic; woke: religion't.

Nidhogg Anal Beads.

What if Fazi Bear was a Pacman Amogus?

3 am A-and-B-got-left-alone-in-vc things.

Develop a Jacobson's Organ, 4head.

X enters: “The great cataclysm, faithfully recreated.” Y, immediately: *sneezes three times.*

Does Hoisier call his dick Hooshel?

Don't use the Tokomon as a fleshlight.

Fish the giant hole.

“  -- before he came out as Ishgardian--”

A: I fucked ur mom, shitlips. B: *just fucking vanishes* A: Oh no.

X takes a sippy.

New Autism just dropped.

Mommy Merlwyb said it's my turn with the strap!

A: *presents a jar to B* Get in. C: What on earth are you all doing?

They’ve gone to the jar.

X: *leaves, then comes back* THE CUM AR IN THE SKY.

Use your inside teeth.

Literally never seen you hop into something faster.

X: *asleep in a designated corner with a sign over it saying “X is asleep”*

Y: *points at X* asleep.

Head day.

Do Harry Potter, Starwars, or Shrek qualify as mythology?

UwUterus.

WHY WOULD YOU PEEL AN AU RA???

Tell your mom to redo you...

Don't sing hymns to my ass.

Lord fart-quad.

Can you re-route the piss tube to your mouth?

A: Speaking of piss, I'll be right back.; B: Oh he's gettin' it STRAIGHT from the tap.

Naughty Elezen get sent to the Praetorium to atone for wolf crimes.

Are you immune to smallpox?

Someone remind me that I am an adult and can eat as many enemas as I want.

Scream all you want, the moogles can't hear you from here.

This truly is the Aurum Vale of conversations.

It's MY Ixion, and I'll objectify him if I WANT to!

So Aymsy-waymsy. ya wanna run the fuckin' country?

They're like jello. -- (about catboys)

X: "It's gonna get loud in here I gotta crinkle" *crinkles* Y: "I expected it to be louder" X: "DID YOU WANT IT TO BE LOUDER" Y: "YES" X: *CRINKLES LOUDER*

And, finally,  A and B Slowly Losing Track of Their Singular Collective Braincell at 4AM the album, containing such hits as...

 "She wears snorp snirps, I wear sneep snops..." 

 "UwU ... Sussy Baka, walkin' down the street..." 

 "Your own... personal... Nitwit..." 

 and the classic... "Animal crackers in my Ass..."

[samstrugglingwithlife]

Extremely Shy And Cute S/O That Loves Physical Affection

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Ushijima, Sugawara, Akaashi

Warning: I’ve had six coffees in the past two hours so I have no clue what I just wrote. I kinda blacked out so there may be swearing. Let me know what I wrote.

A/N: I’m really sorry that I used this request to try and get over writer’s block. I hope you like it still and enjoy the headcanons, bulletpoints brain farts, thing types stuff down there. P.s. Reader, whomst the heck gave you the right to be this cute. I am in love.

USHIJIMA

This guy over here looks like he ain’t never felt shit in his life ever, but those who know him, I’m talking about the team, know that mans is whipped for your very existence. How can he not? You’re so cute and soft and cuddly, and you’re so sweet when you shyly scoot close to him so you can feel his warmth.

It’s a surprise, that you, who is so shy and cute, a true definition of smol uwu baby, is dating this intimidating, socially inept, giant, God of War looking guy. Tendou loves to point this out every chance he gets.

You somehow wormed your way into his heart, and now you’re never leaving, ever. 

You’re a cutie, despite being very timid and smol, you’re a very affectionate individual. You love to cuddle, hug, hold hands and wear your boyfriend’s extra-large sweaters. Wakatoshi loves to give you what you want; cuddles? He’s opening his arms wide open, so you can crawl into his embrace and nuzzle into his warmth. You want kisses? Wakatoshi will give you many kisses. You want a hug? He’s picking you up into his arms and hugging you so tight that it feels like nothing in the world can take you away from his arms. He does it all with a smile on his face.

Of course, it wasn’t always like this, the fact the two of you started dating is in itself a miracle, but the real issue is that you’re affectionate, you like to give and receive affection. Ushijima, however, is one dense son of a bitch, he didn’t really initiate any form of physical touch other than maybe holding your hand; you dropping hints did nothing to help, so you had to tell him, using words, that you want more affection and want to give more affection. Your face has never felt hotter and more flustered than it was on that day.

From that day onwards, Wakatoshi has been paying more attention, even though sometimes he fails to figure out why you’re holding your arms open and looking at him like that, but y'know A for effort.

Tendou likes to playfully gag or hoot when during breaks, in between practices, you’re sitting next to Wakatoshi, clung onto his side, wrapping your arms around his bicep and excitedly telling him about your day as he listens and even adds in his two cents to your conversation.

Oikawa hates watching Ushijima enter the competition venue with you walking beside him, his arm around your shoulders and the whole team walking behind the two of you. How come Oikawa keeps getting dumped and that brute Ushiwaka has such a cute little lover, it is beyond him. Oikawa has accused Ushiwaka of black magic and dark arts.

Anyway, my point, mans is learning to give just as much affection to you as you give to him, he has no problems with you hugging him and snuggling to his side, heck! he has no problem if you cling onto his back like a koala bear; you’re his baby and he will do anything for your cute, shy, uwu baby self. I said what I said.

SUGAWARA

Very opposite of the mans above. You don’t have to ask, thank God for that, your shy soul has been saved, Sugawara will coddle you no questions asked.

He is a very sensible, slightly feral, guy. He understands that you love physical forms of affection like cuddling and hugging and kissing, but you’re afraid to ask due to your timid nature; so after some time of getting to know you, he knows just what exactly you want with a single look at your face.

He also enjoys physical affection just as much as you, so rather than him, you should be the one prepared for a barrage of kisses and hugs.

Sugawara finds you extremely cute when you stumble over your words some times or when you get flustered by something and avoid making eye contact with people. 

He feels very protective of you then, and in most cases, he comes running to your aid if you’re having trouble communicating with strangers; however, he also insists that he wants to help you gain the confidence to speak up; only because the you that he knows is so charming that the world is missing out on your personality.

Many times he has to contain his ‘fanboying’, for the lack of a better word, when you shyly wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his warmth. He will wrap his arms tightly around your form and sway a little with a content sigh.

He calls you his ‘sweet cocoon’ whenever you show up in your ginormous sweaters, boy can’t contain himself, he has to physically restrain himself from either jumping onto the nearest surface with you to cuddle you to death or fucking kiss you until you want to stop.

Listen, I have this headcanon that one of his types is a soft, cuddly and affectionate lover so yeah. I can write so much more but then I’d just be repeating myself. He loves you, you cute, shy little baby. The end.

AKAASHI

First of all, he keeps malfunctioning because you exist. How are you even real, Y/n?!

Seconds, this dude LIVES for you. You’re so soft and sweet, he has a tough time coming to terms with the fact that you are dating him of all people.

Now that that’s out of the way. Akaashi wasn’t really into physically showing his love and affection, that is until you came along. 

Akaashi thinks you’re so sweet and cute, with your cute little sweater paws and your shy downcast eyes. You’re quiet because of your timidness, but you’re so cute when you finally lift your head to peck him on the lips or when you shyly wrap your arms around his neck in an innocent little hug.

Whenever the two of you are alone, you would raise your arms, silently asking for a hug or cuddles, Akaashi always chuckles and teases you for a bit by purposely asking if you want a high five, or do you want to dance, or are you stretching. However, he never stalls for too long and always relents within moments.

Akaashi always gives you what you want without asking any questions or demanding anything in return.

He feels so blessed that someone as affectionate and giving as you wants to be with him. He completely understands how you’re too shy to say anything, and he always appreciates your efforts when you try to step out of your comfort zone and say things you’re too shy to say.

Akaashi simply adores your timid, cute, loving and giving nature and he has no problems giving you want, that is cuddles and kisses and hugs and holding your hand and calling you cute nicknames. Even if Bokuto and his teammates are teasing him for being this way.

[ao3kiribaku]

Chapter 2 is out

@kirikiriwhoops

I’m having a great time making Notes While Reading

--

Starting of strong with this Denki pearl

He looked like he was farting rainbows

My little pony Denki

--

Mina winked back

I spy with my little eye an evil master plan

--

Not all of us are pretentious hipsters who order black coffee during summer

Ei said it and I stand by it.

Coffee:

Me:

--

Katsuki sipped his coffee slowly, then folded his arms and slouched down his seat.

Right now he’s making the “ridiculously rich old woman who thinks way to highly of herself and just delivered a remarcable yet subtle and polished blow to another ridiculously rich old woman at their weekly brunch at the golf club" expression. Or, ya know, a pretentious hipster smirk

--

Mina and Denki had anticipatory smiles

Evil master plan, I'm telling you

--

Their bickering gave me life, my serotonin levels are now ba-lan-ced u.u

--

Hitoshi facepalmed. “Katsuki, what the fuck?”

Red (me), trying to contain a grin and telling my brain that a high five would be improper: Gosh, Katsuki, that was uncalled for, very welcomed, but uncalled for.

A power bottom asserting dominance. 

---

“You fucking pussy. Get back here, asshole. Turning your back again?” Katsuki said.

Again? Again?? I'm getting mixed signals here, what the hell happened between them?? Kirishima what have you done your bleached brain moron? Why would he be scared of you??

--

Evil master plan, I'M TELLING YOU! I want in!

--

He's gonna drive, isn't he? He's gonna pull an Unexpected

Does this hand gesture has a name? I couldn't find another gif with someone doing that

--

Hanta is like a mom friend who is hanging by a thread, he's gonna flip everyone, call it quits and leave mumbling that no one listens to him. That or he is silencing everyone with a murderus glance, even Katsuki knowing not to piss him off

--

Katsuki mumbled something, but none of them had heard it.

He better be mumbling that he would never be an ass to Her

--

Called it! Ha! He's driving

--

Hehe, roadtrip

--

Fine, fine. Jesus. So freaking bossy

... Ya know... I said it... I'm just saying... I said it, it's not news, but I still said it

--

Why are they talking about hurting again? Why context gives fisical hurt and not emotional? Why looks like he avoided the word to not bring up unwanted memories?

--

But whenever he tried to open his mouth, it was as if it was screwed shut. He couldn’t find his voice

🤔

--

Can’t kill what’s already dead

What

In

The

Flying

Fuck

Happened??

--

Is the bickering getting softer?

"Yup, and yup, and yup to whatever your question is, dear."

Mika, Anika and of course Gran are ship crew. We are all ship crew.

--

Do you want me to sleep commando in the middle of your family home

Look, it wouldn't be a problem going commando AND no underwear would need to be shared If he slept in Kirishima's room...

Problems solved!

--

“G’mornin’.” He greeted Katsuki

....

Kirishima:

Also that one tiktok audio (link)

Check it out, it has a lot of Kiribaku videos, it's just perfect for them

--

This was awesome, gosh, I laughed the entire chapter.

So Fucking good!

The insults just get better and better

I love Katsuki and Gran being buddies. Oh, my bittersweet headcanon

Ship crew only gets grows and I love it

I needed that, thanks.

[restlessfandoming]

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 3) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

[part 1] [part 2]

hello sorry for the wait my brain just be straight up farting sometimes

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link]

the president and the troublemaker (part 3)

When Lumine woke up, she was back in her bed at home, with Aether taking a damp towel off her head. The morning sunlight shined in through the window. 

“Did I sleep through the entire night?” Lumine asked, her voice hoarse. 

Aether hummed out a ‘yes.’ “I think your body was absolutely exhausted.” He sighed sitting down next to the bed. “Sis, you have to stop overworking yourself; I worry—we all worry.”

She gave a small nod. “I know. And I’m sorry.” 

“Just take the day off to relax, okay? I promise the whole world isn’t going to blow up.” He stood up. “Also, mind telling me why Childe of all people brought you back here?” he asked, eyeing Lumine’s hands. 

She hadn’t even realized it; her hands were set atop a red scarf—Childe’s red scarf—and only then did she vaguely remember him wrapping it around her as he carried her home. Clutching it, she answered, “About that...he may or may not have found out I’m Outlander.” 

Aether’s eyes widened. “He found out? And he didn’t tell the whole school?” 

“I’m surprised as well. He actually seems...nicer ever since he found out.”

“Maybe he’s trying to mooch off your earnings. Or blackmail you.”

“See, I thought that too, but he hasn’t done any of those things.” She gripped the scarf again. “In fact, he offered to be my coach.”

“Your coach? What, he does the underground fighting too?”

Lumine shrugged. “I don’t know. Apparently he has ‘connections.’”

“Are you going to accept?”

She looked out the window. “I told him, ‘no.’”

Aether silently regarded her, looking like he wanted to say something, but then shook his head. “Well, remember to relax today. Your work has been taken care of, so just take it easy, okay?”

He left the room, and Lumine turned onto her side, eyes cast out the window. Without thinking, she brought Childe’s scarf up to her nose, breathing in. She was caught off guard as the scent of salty beach shores filled her senses. 

Her face flushed and she thought, How do I even pay him back?

* * *

Lumine pushed open the door to the school’s rooftop, taking in a breath of the gentle breeze floating by. Sitting near the edge of the roof was Childe, his orange hair ruffling slightly in the wind. Lumine took a moment to observe him; he looked so serene, and suddenly Xiangling’s words intruded into her mind: He’s so handsome. 

“So, Pres, did you call me up here just to stare at me, or did you actually want something?” he asked, not even turning towards her.

Lumine felt a vein pop out on her forehead, and she proceeded to stomp towards him. “I was not staring,” she argued. “Here.” She harshly held out a little paper bag which contained Childe’s red scarf. 

His eyebrow raised an inch, and he took the bag. “You could have just left this in my locker, you know?” 

“Why do you have to make everything I do so difficult?” 

A chuckle. “I’m just teasing you, Pres. Thank you for returning it.” 

She gave him a stiff nod, then sat down next to him. “I...I also wanted to say thank you. For helping me.”

Childe tilted his head, regarding her curiously. 

Before he could say anything, she continued, gazing out at the city. “And thank you for not telling anyone. I don’t know why, but really—thank you for not saying anything.” 

From the corner of her eye, she saw his lips turn upwards in a small smile. “Of course. Wouldn’t want anyone else enjoying our little secret, now would I?” 

“This is fun to you?” she grumbled. 

“Very much so.” 

Lumine sighed. “Anyways, I don’t like to be indebted to people, and I couldn’t think of a way to pay you back—so please think of something.”

“In that case…,” he said almost instantaneously.

“You already have something in mind?”

He leaned towards her. “Let me be your coach.” 

...

...Of course he would say that. 

* * *

“And you’re sure Childe is trustworthy?” Aether asked Lumine as they walked through the bustling city of Snezhnaya, located in the next city over from their hometown of Mondstadt. 

Lumine readjusted the strap of her gym bag on her shoulder. “I mean...he hasn’t said anything yet, right? And anyways,” she muttered, “I owe him for saving me.” 

Aether frowned, crossing his arms. “I guess you’re right…It’s just...He’s been a constant pain in your ass for the better part of your council career, and now he just suddenly wants to be your best friend?” 

“He’s not going to be my best friend. Maybe he just felt sorry that I have to do all this for the sake of money, so he’s helping us out,” Lumine tried to reason. “If he’s my coach, we’ll get better conditions and pay.” 

Her twin nodded, looking around at the modern, high-rise buildings surrounding them. “Snezhnaya is really a rich city, isn’t it?” 

“I guess that’s a good sign.” Lumine stopped in front of a building labeled “Zapolyarny Palace.” She glanced down at the business card Childe had given her. “I think this is it: the gym he told me to go to.” 

The two of them took in the building before them: a gym with large windows through which they could see many members training intensely within. The building itself was made of sleek, silver materials, making the gym look like a glittering gem in the sunlight. Definitely an upgrade from the concrete basement of Kaeya’s establishment. 

Lumine was first to climb the steps, Aether following closely behind her. She pushed open the heavy glass doors, and immediately noticed everyone inside watching her from the corner of their eyes. 

“Lumi, these are some real scary looking people,” her twin whispered. 

She nodded, but continued walking forward to the front desk. The receptionist looked up at her; her name tag read Ekaterina. 

“How can I help you?” she asked. Her tone wasn’t friendly, but Lumine suspected that was the nicest the woman would sound. 

“I was told to come here by a friend,” Lumine answered. “By, uhm, Tartaglia?” 

Ekaterina looked her up and down, then stood. “Follow me.” 

The three of them walked through the gym, heels clicking against the dark slate flooring. The gym was huge, all of the high-tech equipment greatly spaced out, machines Lumine hadn’t ever seen before. 

The group made their way towards a boxing ring, elevated off the ground, and even from far away, Lumine could tell it was made from very expensive materials. 

“Tartaglia is up ahead,” Ekaterina said, gesturing towards the boxing ring, then went back to her desk.

Currently, there were two people sparring in the ring. To her surprise, Lumine recognized them both. 

“Is that...Kaeya? And Childe?” Aether asked.  

Lumine didn’t even answer, finding herself speeding up to get closer and watch the fight. 

She had only heard of Kaeya fighting from others in his arena, and that he was a fierce opponent due to his training in the military where he had actually been a high ranking captain. Childe, on the other hand, she had only seen in schoolyard scuffles, and never as an actual fighter in the ring. She was mesmerized by the two. 

Kaeya’s moves were very sharp and sneaky, while Childe’s style was lighter and much faster—until he struck, which he did so with great force, like the sudden crashing of a powerful ocean wave. Despite the huge gap in years of experience, it seemed like Childe actually had the upper hand in the fight. 

Childe threw a jab at Kaeya’s face, which the captain easily blocked. But then, Childe quickly switched his footing, twisting his body around to prep for a spinning heel kick to Kaeya’s unprotected side. As he turned, Lumine made eye contact with him for a split second. 

His foot would have slammed into Kaeya’s face, but suddenly, Childe stopped short, his leg still in the air, foot hovering right by Kaeya’s face, who regarded the near hit with wide eyes. Stopping a powerful kick like that took a lot of strength, Lumine knew, and she could see it in the way the muscles were flexed in Childe’s leg. 

“It was fun, captain, but it seems our guest is here,” Childe said, relaxing his leg and setting it down. 

Kaeya let out a shaky laugh. “It was indeed fun. Though, it seems like I need to get back into proper shape; it’s been a while.” 

Childe ducked under the ropes, sliding out onto the ground. “I look forward to that rematch then.” He picked up his water bottle and looked at Lumine. “You made it! Good job not getting lost.” 

As he drank his water, Lumine couldn’t help but look him over, at his exceptionally well-toned body. Usually his long limbs were covered by their school uniforms, but now he wore a gray tank top with gray sports shorts. It didn’t help that he was practically glistening in sweat. 

She cleared her throat. “So can you tell me why Kaeya is here?”

Her manager walked up to them, offering his signature smile. “Why wouldn’t I follow my dear Lumine to the next step in her career?” 

“I invited him,” Childe said. “I figured you’d want to keep him around.” 

He wasn’t wrong; it was nice that Kaeya was there as another familiar face. She wasn’t really sure what to expect from Childe now.

“I see you brought a guest as well,” Childe noted, his blue eyes on Aether. 

Aether subtly put his hands on his hips, defensively. “I’m Aether. Her twin.” 

The ginger tilted his head. “Ah, the Vice-President. How cute.” 

“Okay, so you’re my coach,” Lumine said. “Now what?” 

He held out his hand. “Where’s your Outlander mask?”

Lumine blinked at him, but then pulled the mask out, handing it over. He flipped it over in his hands, then chucked it behind him. Both her and Aether gasped. 

“You won’t need it anymore,” Childe said. 

Lumine glared at him. “What do you mean, I won’t need it anymore?” 

“Are you trying to get her arrested?” Aether spat. 

Childe held up his hands. “Relax. The reason I wanted you to join me is because we’re no longer going to have you fighting illegally. So no need for the mask.”

Kaeya nodded. “Yup. We’re bringing you into the world of legitimacy.” 

Lumine crossed her arms. “Kaeya, you know the reason I came to you in the first place. You get me way more money, much faster, than any legitimate competition. Especially at the beginner levels.” 

“And that’s why you’re here now,” Childe interjected. “Fighting here will give you even more money without having to worry about the cops busting in and arresting you one day.” 

“What if people from school find out?”

“No one from our school is going to come here to Snezhaya, much less to a gym.” 

Lumine and Childe stared at each other, unyielding. 

“Excuse us,” Kaeya said, pulling Lumine and Aether away from Childe. 

“Kaeya, you know it’s dangerous for her not to be in a disguise,” Aether hissed. 

“It was dangerous when she was fighting in my arena,” Kaeya said. He put a hand on Lumine’s shoulder. “Look, Childe is trying to help you, not hurt you. He knows you need that money, and that you’re good at this. He, like the rest of us, doesn’t want to see you get arrested for just trying to help your family out.” 

Lumine bit her lip. “What makes him so qualified though?” She turned towards Kaeya. “You guys are always talking about his ‘connections,’ but you haven’t really talked about who he is in this community.” 

“All you have to know is that, despite you guys being close in age, he is a known professional in this field. He’s fought and won many competitions.” He sighed. “I mean you saw him earlier: he almost handed my ass to me in that little spar. And I was a captain in the military.”

Aether sighed as well. “Lumi...as much as I dislike Childe...I think they’re right. I’ve always worried about you in those illegal fights. You’ll be safer here.”

As scary as it was that she was no longer concealing her identity, a part of her relished at the freedom. And they were all right. It was safer here, down this road. 

Lumine nodded before leading them back to Childe. She stood in front of him, arms crossed. “When do we start?”

* * *

[part 4]

[josiebelladonna]

literally stumbled upon a blog just now, one that i never interacted with once in my life, and saw they had blocked me.

the reason why i’m making a big post about this is because... holy shit. this one is nuts. like, some of the people on here, i get it completely, i get why you don’t me to interact with you. but the more i think about this, the more i feel tumblr going this way in the future. like, this is legit terrifying when i think about it.

now, understand, after the block party of last summer, at this point, no skin off my nose—does seem a little strange that i have never seen you in my life, let’s see your pinned post:

um… 🤭

i’m sorry, i have to laugh at this. it’s so over-the-top that it actually got a laugh out of me. why are you here if you don’t want people to follow you? this isn’t instagram or twitter where you can put your account on private and refuse who follows and who doesn’t. i mean, i do see the logic somewhat—instagram will shadowban you when you make art with eroticism or violence and twitter is virtually impossible to use now, but still. sort out your shit before you come here.

okay, that first part makes complete sense. i post risqué stuff from time to time and i want everyone to use discretion as a result because i’m a wild card—after the shit with daveigh/xxgreendruidessxx i am so wary of ageless blogs. that second part, though. i’m not into that stuff myself (i think it’s gross, tbh) but saying it’s not “true” bdsm or that it can’t be is a little overblown, don’t you think? (never met anyone who wanted to gatekeep bdsm of all things, too, like damn)

”usually”, meaning there are exceptions and they can be taught how to dominate properly, you just are refusing to do the work for whatever reason. next question.

excuse you, it is just a word, like in the phrase “come to mama, baby”—emphasis on “come” and i like to call him baby because he’s precious to me and he gives me butterflies.  something tells me you read fifty shades of gray and took it way too literally.

hey, i have hang-ups with fandom myself but i’m a fan of a lot of stuff. this blog is all me. what’s wrong with that? that’s kind of sad, actually, not being a fan of stuff. bring in the gatekeeping and i feel you must not have a sense of wonder. like, your private life must not contain anything childlike or pure (notice i said “childlike” and not “childish”). that’s really sad, such that i kind of feel bad i’m doing this. like, hehehehe, see some tumblr bitch make fun of someone who doesn’t like stuff hur hur.

that being said…

jesus fucking christ, are you serious? i h8 the utter circle jerk of posts about each other’s mutuals because they’re obnoxious noise at this point but i’m always flattered when that happens. like, whoa, dude, i woke up to a shitload of notes on my posts, thank you, person! (bonus if it’s my art.)

hey, i do, too, but you don’t see me bitching about people going through and reblogging a bunch of things. the fact you outright declare you post memes (and not art) tells me everything i need to know, too. *twirls paintbrush*

so, according to you, kinks outside of bdsm are invalid. you think people who are into porn, either out of curiosity or genuine enjoyment, are brain dead. you think people who like erotica are brain dead. get out of your sight? how bout i fart in your general direction while i leave? make you smell me because i have a delicate stomach and shaming people for their kinks is not okay.

forget a private life being sterile: your private life is more poisonous than the basement at chernobyl.

THEN WHAT THE HELL AM I LOOKING AT, LADY

and you’re one to talk given you came here in the first place, and you use the colored text, an html modification. something tells me that you do understand it.

and to really revel in the insanity:

yeah, i bet you would also tell people they’re fat and ugly so they lose weight. also “20% effective”? i like how she—and i checked, it’s a “she”—forbids people who are into adult diapers and yet she probably hasn’t had hers changed since she first got off the potty. love the use of the word “perceived”, too—why not just say “seen”? and again, if you’re so hell-bent on controlling your own image, why are you here? you can’t control how someone sees you. that’s just life: people will misunderstand you no matter what happens. yet another person so consumed with appearing mature and sexy that she winds up being immature.

i’ve known a fair number of people who were into “tightly knit” groups and they were just like this, too. there was nothing you could do to convince them otherwise, either. they’re misers, caught up in their own echo chamber to the point they no longer think very broadly. i worry, that with the aforementioned circle jerk of posts directed at each other’s mutuals, this will spread to the rest of tumblr. this place will become like this woman here: obsessed with each other’s mutuals until they start telling newbies to gtfo.

moreover, there’s this trend i’ve seen with blogs that have blocked me is that they’re run by very miserable people. there is nothing about them that strikes me as “oh, man, why did you block me? you’re awesome, i wish i could do something to fix things.” i think there was one where i actually thought that (and really, the only reason why it was all so upsetting for me was because it felt as if every time i turned around it was happening. i never saw explanations or anything like that, just angrily worded vague posts. it was upsetting because of the frequency and no one would give me a straight answer).

[agapi-kalyptei]

sickblogging: took 80mg methylphenidate today. my previous max was 60mg, tried it 3x and each time it felt like way too much. today? barely feels like it’s doing anything, I’m just... not half asleep. An unorthodox method, but I guess it works! for now.

brain dump, with wildly unrealistic non-medical explanations:

(1) This is most certainly not a reliable explanation for my dizziness, but here are some thoughts. Sometimes when I get excited about meeting new people, with or without romantic interest, I get dizzy. Usually when talking to them, my head just gets filled with hot air and I start floating above fields and meadows. It’s like an extended brain fart you get when you suddenly meet a celebrity you admire.

(2) That said, I’m not in love, not in the usual sense. Would I go on a dinner date with Triin Ruubel if offered? Oh, absolutely. A thousand times yes. Do I, like, think about it more often than twice a month on Friday evenings? Not really. I’m def going to store this explanation for later as a joke tho.

(3) So, what else? What if I’m just overwhelmed, on a much wider scale? I very rarely get dizzy from being overwhelmed. Mostly I just curl up on a couch/bed/binge video games and feel tired for a bit. Not dizzy. Being overloaded with choice + with my ADHD, if anything, makes me paralyzed and indecisive. When it’s work related, I either discuss it with senior devs, or just jump to whatever my gut tells me is right. I might not be the most competent/confident decider, but it can be done. And I still stay dizzy on my days off work.

(4) But, what about my hobbies? With the growing daylight, and because Cymbalta actually worked for me as an antidepressant, to get me back to having a wider emotional range, to laugh more often, and feel like a human, I also started getting excited about life. Not that I didn’t already have literally 10 musical instruments at home, a cinema camera, a speed editor and a color grading panel, and about 40 books I “really” want to read. I am getting more excited about gamedev again, and start contemplating learning Unreal Engine 5, Godot, Rust, and Blender.

My continuous refusal to accept my mortality and denial about the generous budget of 168 hours I’m graciously gifted every week is getting... honestly, just embarrassing. Like, really. Blender. I can’t draw. I can’t paint. My aesthetic sense is the quality of a 10 year old slipper, never washed, from a supermarket. Like, I don’t even have a project in mind that I’d want to use Blender on. What I do know is that I’d find it exciting and fun to learn.

Which, maybe comes to my worst quality - I love learning. Or maybe rather, I love learning more than doing the hard things. I’m going to get blood test results for my 38th aliveness anniversary, and instead of getting stable and grounded, I’m literally the married man from Juno who starts flirting with a teenager*. Again: in denial about my mortality. Never growing up from the child-like joy of learning new things - which isn’t bad on its own, but it is bad because I promote this over making the hard choices in my life. Giving away my instruments would mean admitting defeat, mortality, limited time and energy, lack of focus and excessive clumsiness. While I keep all my clutter, and keep buying more, I get to feel like I can do anything in my life. Like I’m the quirky manic pixie dream guy that’s so interesting and lovable!

[* not actually flirting with a teenager]

(5) Yesterday, I (regrettably) allowed myself a bit of daydreaming. What if I did ask Triin Ruubel out? Then I looked at my malformed body, my pile of biodegradable food containers, my messy (not in a cool way) green hair, my last 6 weeks spent on a couch, my lack of brain and body power to even cook anything besides manna, and thought - how do I prove I’m interesting? How do I prove I’m lovable??

And I drew a blank.

[just-a-quirkless-loser]

How Could You Love Me🥺🐬

Gang Orca x Reader

I’ve never seen any fanfiction for this character and I think he deserves it🥺hope you enjoy it.

—————————————————————

It was no secret that Gang Orca was a scary looking figure. Hell, his fanged teeth often hung over the sides of his mouth and his hands had pointed fingers, making his look more like a monster than anything else. He had dealt his whole life with coming to terms that the public would always see him as a monster.

However, no one knows what type of person he really is. No one knew that his real name was Kugo Sakamata or that he can’t stand to eat certain seafood or that his heart fills with sadness whenever people tremor with terror when they see him. No, the public knew him as this savage beast.

Luckily for him, whenever he enters his favorite bakery, all his anger and sadness leaves. All because he sees you, a lovely woman with bright eyes and a full smile. You sit behind the counter and greet him the same way as you have dozens of times before.

“Haiii, Sakamata. I saw you save a bunch of kids from that fire yesterday. Are you okay? I know heat really bothers you. I made some special tea cakes for you today anddddd they have little orca decorations. Get it? Cause you’re an orca? It might not be the most original thing ever but I just thought it was cute,” you hush to him as he enters. At the beginning of your daily encounters, he couldn’t believe how friendly you would be. He hadn’t been expecting friendship when he entered the shop for a quick snack run.

“I think it’s nice how passionate you are. And, I’ve told you to call me Kugo. We’re friends,” he grinned as he looked at the tiny cakes on the counter. “And, I think those cakes are perfect. They’re all for me?”

“Yep yep. I wanted you to have something special this morning,” you started putting the cakes into their container. “You didn’t answer my other question though. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You know, I can tell when you don’t tell the full truth. The left side of your mouth twitches up,” you wipe your hands on your apron as you hold out the box for him to grab.

“Well, I’m doing as well as I can be.”

“Did it happen again?” You were referring to the reactions the hero would get whenever he saved someone. Even if he’s a pro hero risking his life, people still chose to scorn him and his looks.

“I can’t really blame people for how they act. I’d be scared too,” he held out the bills for the cakes. You pushed the bills back towards his body, refusing to make the man pay after all he does for you. He even does extra patrols around your shop to scare off and villains. “Let me pay you.”

“No, I pay you with delicious sweets. And, if it’s any consolation, I think people are fools for what they’re doing to you. I’d never be scared of you,” you smile. Unknown to him, your feelings had been growing for the man. You loved his dedication to his work and his steady positive attitude. If it were up to you, you would have him return your feelings. However, you’re a chicken.

“I’ll be back later. I’ve got more work to do,” and he was gone just as quick as he came. While he had come into the shop with a small frown, he left with a large smile which seemed to scared civilians enough to part for him as he passed on the street.

He munched on his cakes, wondering if you tasted the same way. His mind often wandered to what it would be like to be with you without having to pay you visits at your shop. How would it feel to kiss you and worship you? Would you shy away from his? Were you as vocal as you normally are as you’re being held down and pleasured beyond your comprehension?

‘I need to stop this thinking. It only hurts more knowing I can’t have her,’ and it hurts even more for you to watch him leave your shop every day, taking a bit of your heart with him

Gang Orca walked through the town for the day, patrolling for any crime and appreciating the fact that it was a slow crime day. He only had to stop a few purse snatchers which wasn’t hard given they ran away as soon as he appeared.

He walked back to your shop, an extra pep to his step as he thought about seeing you. You’d most likely be closing up with a few strangling costumers, flour dusting your delicate cheeks, your shirt sleeves rolled up to your elbows as you cleaned up the rest of the sweets that weren’t sold.

“Oooops sorry, Kugo,” he walked in only to be ran into by your smaller body. You had been carrying around (well, more like dragging) a table. “Would you mind help?”

“I’d be honored to help. And, you should pay more attention. What if I was a robber?” He picked up the table from your grasp. You continued to smile up at him, rocking from side to side as you jumped from excitement. He briefly wonders why you’re so happy.

“Then, I’d be getting robbed for money that they’d have to pull from my cold, dead hands,” he sputtered. How the fuck can you say things so casually?

“No one is getting robbed. You’re missing the point, Y/N. You need to be more cautious,” he chided you with a gentle chop on the head. You pouted but nodded your head in agreement anyway.

“Yes, dadddddy,” it was meant to be a joke but, your words made him growl lowly. You cocked your head at the sound, wetness slowly pooling.

“Uh, sorry,” he looks away from you and you swear you see a ghost of red across his smooth skin.

“Yeh it’s-it’s cool,” you waddle away to go get three bottles of water. It’s become routine for you and him to share drinks so he can replenish his strength. A few of your costumers are still at their tables, some frozen with apprehension of the hero.

“Mommy, is he a villain?” Kugo can hear a hound boy ask his mother. They sit right behind him, right behind is large frame that shrinks to make the boy feel more at ease. “Mommy, I’m scared.”

“He is kinda scary but, it’s okay. He’s a hero. Let’s just leave in case he isn’t friendly though,” you come from the back just in time for the woman to be caught trying to rush out.

“Umm, you have to pay,” you push the water bottles into his chest and turn to the mother with hands on your hips. “You didn’t just sit here and eat all those fucking bonbons just to steal them. And, in front of a hero nonetheless.”

“We we’re going to pay. Just...tomorrow,” the woman shuffles from side to side, throwing anxious glances at Sakamata.

“Why when you could pay now? I should make you cough everything up so you can eat it tomorrow then,” it’s moments like these Kugo is reminded you’re not always as sweet as your aura suggests. He’s learned that you’re not a pushover when someone pisses you off.

“My son is afraid?”

“Of what?!?! There’s a literal fucking hero here. I know you saw him; he’s impossible to miss.”

“No, you misunderstand. He’s afraid of the hero,” there’s a pregnant pause before she speaks again. “See, I knew you’d underst-“

“Get the fuck out of my shop and never come back,” you say it with such venom it surprises him. You look at her with fury as you close into her space. “You think you get to encourage your son judging him without consequences? People like you make me sick. You should be teaching him to appreciate people, no matter what they look like,” you angrily shove her shoulder backwards, making Kugo step in to pull you into his chest.

“Calm yourself, little one. Don’t get yourself worked up over me,” he whispered into your ear. You sank into his body, allowing him to calm you.

“Did he just threaten you? Do you need me to call someone?” She just had to say something. Self-restraint has never really been your thing anyway.

“He just saved your ignorant ass. I already told you to get out of here. If you aren’t gone in the next moment, I’m going to slam your face into the wall behind you and make your your child watch as I pull your hair from your scalp. Then, he’ll see that anyone can be a fucked person, no matter how sweet they may look,” you had a dark look in your eye. You sound more like a villain than he looks (and that’s saying something). The woman scurries out, followed by some of your costumers that had heard the incident. Something tells you they won’t be back any time soon.

“I never knew you could be that scary, little one,” with your costumers gone, the large bakery felt hot and heavy. Sakamata seemed to dominate the air with few words, making your inner submissive mewl in his presence.

“She pissed me off. It’s because of people like here that kids grow up to fear you; discrimination is taught,” you sighed as he pulled you even closer, his hips pressed into your back.

“You can’t put the blame solely on her.”

“So, that just gives people the right to mistreat you?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Then, what did you mean?” You pushed away from him so you could turn around to face him. Why can’t he just accept that this isn’t his fault?

“I hate when you look like that,” he was closer than ever before. Your breaths came out in puffs that mingled with his.

“Like what?” You looked like a picture out of a magazine with your lips slightly parted, your pink tongue farting across your lips, silently challenging him to lean in to taste your essence.

“Like you’re anything other than happy,” he settles for resting his forehead on your own. You could only wonder what the two of you looked like right then; the large man hunched over to meet your small frame.

“How can I be happy when you talk down on yourself? Why can’t you see what I see?” tears flowed as your fists beat on his chest to ecentuate your words. If only you had stopped to feel how hard his heart was beating for you. “Why can’t you just love yourself like I love you?”

Your confession stuck in his brain, hanging around to his every thought. Knowing you felt the same have him a faint hope however, he crushed it just as quickly as it came. Women like you don’t fall in love with men like him.

What type of life would you have if the two of you started to date? He couldn’t take you on normal dates, he wouldn’t be able to show you off as normal people do, you’d miss so many things as you bound yourself to him. How could he possibly do that to you.

“How could you love me,” he pulls himself away. He knows his next words will hurt you but, he’s convinced himself that this is what needs to be done. “When I don’t love you?” And he left you there in your shop, broken to the realization that men like him don’t belong with women like you. Words haven’t been created to describe the pain you feat and the sense of defeat that crossed into you.

It was your fault for falling in too deep. You fell for a man that you had only know from stopping to your shop; a man that you can admit you barely knew. Maybe, you persuaded yourself that your infatuation was something beyond the mere encounters, that your infatuation was blossoming love. Yes, it was your fault.

He stopped coming to your shop and, eventually, you closed your bakery. You couldn’t stand being in the place that you met your first and last love; everywhere you looked, you saw him. You saw him moving tables and chairs, you saw him pouring cream hearts into lattes, you saw him rubbing his worker fingers on your face. If only it was real.

You opened another shop but, instead of working there like the last time, you hired workers. You didn’t have the will to put yourself in that situation again, knowing that he, not only shattered your heart but, stole your smile as well. All you wanted to do was lay in bed and watch t.v., not really paying attention.

“GANG ORCA, found wounded from latest fight with villain. He was rushed to the nearest hospital within-“ that got your attention. You were up and getting dressed. You started to narrow down the possible locations he could have been taken to fill you landed on the one (this being one of the only times your analytical quirk came in hand). You rushed to the hospital in your car, pretty sure you broke all the traffic laws.

Running in to the hospital, you were fearful of how you’d see the man you were still in love with. You knew he’d be bandaged but, you hoped that it wasn’t too severe (although, you knew you’d love him despite what he looked like). An inkling of hesitation was in your mind, not knowing how he would greet you if he was conscious. You can only hope for a good reunion.

“I need to know where Sakamata Kugo is,” you must look delusional with your hair barely combed and your half dressed appearance. You’re pretty sure you didn’t even put on pants. You look down to confirm you indeed only have on a very large sweatshirt (no doubt from the hero you come to visit).

“We can’t just let anyone up to his room,” you knew that what you were asking was selfish but, you had to see him. “Family can wait in the waiting room.”

You were led to a dreary room with tan walls and white stripes. You see his mother (it’s not hard to spot the only other Orca in the room).

“This young lady is here for your son as well,” you blush abashedly. His mother looks similar to him, a few differences in shades between them. Her teeth are still sharp but dull compared to his. While his eyes are bright red, hers are blue pools of pigment.

You sit there with her, rubbing her arm in the only normal way you can think. You wish you could hug her but, that seems too personal. She leans into your side but keeps enough of her weight off of you not to crush you.

“I assume you’re L/N Y/N?” you look like road kill in head lights as you look up at her. “He talks about you a lot. Well, not as much recently. He likes you. I can also assume that you feel the same way?”

“It’s complicated,” you look away from her to stifle a few tears that threaten to pool. Even after months of trying to move on, it still hurts. “I thought he felt the same way but, it was probably just me imaging things.”

“Hmm,” she sighs and places her hand on top of yours. “He’s not the best with emotions but, I can tell that he truly loves you. He’d never speak of you to me if he didn’t. Please don’t give up on my son.”

‘He gave up on me,’ you wanted to spout the bitter words but, you didn’t have it in your heart so, you resolved to nodding your head. You probably wouldn’t even see her again after you saw that he was fine.

“Sakamata Kugo,” a doctor comes from the back. The two of you raise to see him, both of you clenching each other tightly. “He’s fine. The blood made the wounds seem worse than what they were. He’s expected to make a full recovery within the next three months. I suggest that you see him one at a time though.”

“Thank you, sir,” he bids you farewell and you turn to grab your things so that you can leave. You found out what you came for. “Where do you think you’re going?”

‘Well, now I can see where he got his intimidation factor,’ you shiver as her eyes narrow.

“I just wanted to know if he would be alright. Now that I know, I can leave,” you’re pushed down into the seat behind you. She looms over you, she dares you wordlessly to defy her.

“You’re going to see him. I’m going to go in and tell him you’re here and then you both will squash whatever disagreement the two of you are having. And, then, you’ll come back tomorrow so I can get to know you more,” she walks off without waiting for your response. “If you leave, just know, I know your name and your face. I can find you if I really look hard enough.”

‘What the fuck just happened?’ You just sat there waiting, the time ticking by slowly. You really wanted to run but, you couldn’t risk her tracking you down. You can just imagine her dragging you from your home and into the hospital.

“He’s ready to see you now,” his mother pulls you from your seat and pushes you towards his door. You stand in front of it, hand on the knob as you still debate whether or not you should try to make a run for it. You doubt you’d get far but, it could still work.

“I know you’re there, Y/N. Come in,” you gulp at his voice. It still has its deep baritone that makes your panties flood. You peep your head in to see Kugo propped up in bed, his leg and right shoulder bandaged up. His red eyes glowed possessively, beckoning you to come closer. “My mother said you were here.”

“Uh yeah, I just wanted to check on you. I saw what happened on the news. We can just sit here for a few seconds so your mom thinks we talked,” you waddles from side to side.

“What makes you think I don’t want to talk?” His way eyes narrow just like his mothers did. Gulping, you try to look away but, he speaks again to get your attention. “Sit down so we can talk.”

“I just thought you wouldn’t want to after, you know,” you place your care keys and phone beside you as you take a seat next to his side. You lean against the bed to give yourself some comfort.

“I needed time to think. I came back to the bakery though,” why does it feel like you’re suddenly in trouble? “Funny thing though, the bakery wasn’t there. Any idea why?”

“We moved locations.”

“And, you never thought to tell me that?”

“It’s not your business.”

“You are my business,” he pulls you into the bed with him, laying you flat against his chest so that you can sit in his lap. “I never said I didn’t want to see you again. I just had to think.”

“It doesn’t really matter now. You made it very clear you don’t want me,” you sniffle.

“I never said that. I said some things that I didn’t mean. I was just scared of being with you. I mean, look at me, what kind of life could you possibly have with me? What would people think of you?”

“WHY CANT YOU UNDERSTAND I DON’T GIVE A FUCK WHAT PEOPLE THINK OF ME?” You want to punch him for the unnecessary torment he caused you. “You always think you have to spare me from something that’s not even fucking there. Why can’t you just admit you love me? Is it so hard not to give a fuck about other people’s opinions?”

“I love you.”

“Too fucking late.”

“It’s not too late if you came to visit me,” he sounds smug.

“You’re going to make this up to me.”

“I expect nothing less from you. I could start now,” his hands start to travel down your body.

“Uh uh. You gots boo boos. There’s plenty of time for that,” you giggle and flick his hands away.

“We’ll see about that.”

——————————————————————————

Tag List💕

@sakurashortstack @sinclairsamess

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Horse Friends

Yuu runs into Epel and gets an offer worth taking. Contains coarse language, discussions of masculinity/femininity and a fierce case of foot-in-mouth disease. Check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag for more, let me know if you enjoyed it, and if you ever want to let me know what you liked? Please do.

~*~*~*~

You like most creatures. Anything that deserves a pet should get one if they want it. So, you'd thought to yourself, let's go pet something you don't get to see every day. That's how you found yourself kicking around the edge of the horse pasture, watching majestic beasts eat and fart and amiably ignore your existence.

"You like them?"

You turned, and saw Epel had come up beside you.

"They're pretty cool. Not something I'm around much."

He nodded. "Wanna see a really big one?"

~*~*~*~

Did the barn smell bad or just like a barn? You couldn't tell, you didn't get to spend time in them and had no frame of reference. Where did they put the waste? You were thinking of asking where they buried the dead ones so you could go hunting with a shovel later when Epel came through the door, with the most fuckoff huge animal you've ever seen in your life. It was so tall you wondered if you could stand under it; a soft dapple grey, with long feathered fetlocks and a mane that reached past it's knees. It had to duck to get through the doorway, and stood, blinking, when Epel stopped, nevermind that this thing could probably swallow him whole if it had half a mind to.

"Are you sure it's not a kelpie?"

He laughed. "Ain't drowned anyone! 's nothing but a big guy. He's friendly! He's the one we use to teach riding."

You tentatively walked over and offered a hand. You did like horses - you really did! But they were very big, this one especially, and were deeply antsy despite being able to trample things easily. The last think you wanted was it to smell your nervousness and freak out.

It simply bypassed your hand, and instead nosed at your face with it's snout.

"He likes you!"

"I like him too." You prrbted his nose while he sniffed at you. "He got a name?"

"Beans."

"No!"

"Yes! Really."

"I can't believe Vil would let that slide."

"Yeah well, Beans was here first." Epel looked back and forth between you. "You want to try riding him? He's very gentle."

"Not today. But I'll take you up on that."

~*~*~*~

"Pull back to stop!"

You pulled back on the reins, and Beans stopped, and then started to back up.

"Nope, too much!"

You eased your grip and he stopped, flicking his ear an an errant fly.

This was the third time Epel had you up on the horse, and the first time he actually let you have the reins instead of simply leading you around. You weren't in a state of panic whenever the beast under you did something unexpected (though you jumped every time he or another horse whinnied; the sound drilled through your ears into the back if your skull in the worst way). The whole thing was pretty fun! Even if your legs got sore from straddling something as big around as you were tall.

Epel moved easily around on his own horse, a delicate-looking white stallion with murder in his heart, clearly a perfect pair. In the little bit of hanging out you'd done, you'd learned a few things about him:

- He hated being called cute. He was, which made it worse, but being treated as something precious drove him nuts.

- He was, by natural inclination, a rough and tumble farm boy. You knew more about motorbi- no, magical wheels than you ever had in your life, and now knew some truly vile curses that sounded wonderful coming out of his mouth.

- He really liked hanging out with someone he didn't have to pretend elegance around; which you had a feeling was part of why he started giving you private lessons. You were many things, but paragon of grace and propriety you were not.

Remembering what he told you, you lightly flicked the reins, and Beans started forward at a sedate pace. 

"There you go!" Epel beamed at you, and you reflected your own smile back at him.

~*~*~*~

Today, he seemed sour, and you could not understand why, so instead of gong in to greet the horses, you stopped and asked what crawled up his ass and died.

"Nothin' you'd know 'bout."

"Try me."

He stood there glowering, until he finally said, "Am I girlier than you?"

You had to stop and really consider that. "Who started on that one?"

"Some asshole. They said you're manlier than I'll ever be."

You snorted. "That's like, a matter of opinion. I'm kinda butch, sure, but what it is is that femininity is... it requires effort." You moved your hands, in an effort to grasp the words. "It takes effort to put on makeup, or shave your legs. Stuff like that is required to be seen as feminine if you're a girl. Neither of which you do? You're not feminine, really. You're young and pretty. And pretty was never exclusive to girls."

This did not seem to help, so you continued digging. "And you're real pretty, Epel. Combine that with being real young, it makes you cute to others, but like... give it a few years. Yeah. You get a little older and lose the young babyface. You'll still be pretty, but you won't be read as cute, not the way everyone reads you now."

All of his sullen fury was now clearly at you.

"I'm sorry dude. I don't know how to use my words right. But I sure as hell ain't more of a dude than you. Because you actually are one."

He still stood there, and you thought of something to lighten the mood. "Did you kick his ass?"

He finally cracked a smile. "Thoroughly."

"Good. You want to do this today, or do you wanna just vent at me over people being assholes?"

He thought for a moment. "The second one, but don't say anything 'til I say so. You suck at making me feel better."

You nod and give an okay sign, which got a snicker out of him.

~*~*~*~

"And he says I shouldn't lift weights! 'oooh Epel, it'll ruin the lines', Vil can fuck right off and choke on mangey pig cock, he hasn't missed a day of lifting for eight years unless he was too sick to get out of bed." 

You nodded, petting Lucius. He'd seen the both of you out on the grass and wandered over to play with people who were friendly, but not desperate.

"He's all Pomefiore ideals this and that and AUUUGH. I wanna stick a fork up his ass and beat down the doors of Savannahclaw until they let me change dorms."

You raised a finger, and he nodded. "But they don't do dorm changes."

"They do not and I hate it so fucking much." He flopped onto the grass, and you offered a hand that he high-fived. "It sucks. They wouldn't even move me when I went to beat Vil's ass when I first got sorted."

"You what."

"I did! Only got a swing in before he beat me down, but I tried." 

"Please say there's a recording of this."

"He cursed every electronic in a hundred-foot radius just to make sure no one had footage."

"Boo."

He nodded. "That could have made all the money."

You nodded, until Lucius caught your eye and you swatted at Epel to get him to watch. Lucius, crawling through the grass, crept, sprung... and walked back over with a headless lizard, the missing piece long down his gullet.

"Finish it up, Lucius."

Lucius, his play done, walked away, leaving you both with the corpse.

"Gross. Should we bury it?"

"Maybe." The gears are turning, and you instead fetch back a grumbling Lucius. "Epel. What is this?"

He raised an eyebrow. "A fat old cat?"

You held up the irritated cat with a smile. "This is, pound for pound, the most efficient land predator on the planet. I know of cats that have single handedly eradicated entire species. Cats are eight pounds of asskicking. They will fu-OW" You dropped Lucius and checked the welling scratches on your arm. "Cats will fuck you up. But cats are also fluffy and cute and like to be cuddled. They're elegant and lovely, silly and playful. The murder and the cute is inherent to the cat."

He frowned. "Where are you going with this."

"I'm saying you're basically a cat."

He was silent for a beat. "Thanks, I hate it."

"How much?"

"Enh." He wiggled his hand. "I get what you're trying to say, at least. As long as you don't run around calling me that I’m good."

"A cat?"

"No, other C word."

Your brain drew the only conclusion you could think of. "A cunt?"

He let out the ugliest laugh you'd ever heard, and things were good.

[do-y0u-have-to-let-it-linger]

hi!!! can i get an x-men shift please? i’m bi (but hetero leaning) and use she/her pronouns. i’m a sagittarius, INTP, and am super into pop culture, movies tv shows music stuff like that. i’m an introvert, pretty shy at first but once you get to know me i’m pretty funny and kinda an asshole. i’m 5’7”, plus size and curvy, with longish wavy brown hair, blue eyes, and wear black glasses. i dress pretty comfy, jeans and t-shirts, sweatshirts, but i also have a leather jacket when i want to look more put together. mostly wear vans and converse. i love taylor swift, star wars, and all the superhero movies out there. i honestly don’t know what my mutation would be, i’ve never found one that fits right i guess. can’t wait to see who i’m paired with! love your blog, and thank you :)

I ship you with Peter Maximoff!

Warning: ✨contains swear words, mentions of being high, and grammatical errors probably✨

Peter is the type of person who thinks of bold and outrageous plans, but is horrible at executing them.

This is especially apparent now that he is part of the X-Men, because of the high stakes that often come hand and hand with these plans.

Yet at this moment, standing in front of you, attempting to respond to your simple and reasonable question, he feels as though the stakes of this plan are higher than any other he has previously made.

You and Peter were very close, most of you X-Men were. Shared trauma bonded you all like a family. So you were very comfortable around each other, like the: "We literally laugh at each other's farts and say 'love ya!' When one of us leaves a room." comfortable, so it concerned you that he seemed so nervous. You repeated your, as previously stated, simple and reasonable question.

"Peter, what the fuck."

You were mid-way through Empire Strikes Back when he first appeared, standing in front of the TV. Generally, when someone is watching a movie alone with the volume level barely audible, at 2 AM in the morning, they do not expect to be interrupted, but there he was. Interrupting you.

So you had asked him if he wanted to watch the movie with you and he said no.

Then you asked him if something was wrong and he said no.

But after he had stood in front of the television long enough for you to have paused the movie, you had come to the conclusion that he was messing with you. Hence the two "what the fuck"s.

He finally responded, seemly returning to his body after his brain's small vacation to who knows where.

"I need to talk to you about something important, and I wanted it to go a certain way but that way never actually happens so I'm doing it another way." Well, that was even more incoherent than his usual sentences.

"Wait- are you high again?"

"No! No. Well, maybe a little- but that's not the point."

"Sure, now what's going on."

"We're like... technically co-workers because of us being X-Men and shit, right?"

"If Bat-Man and Robin are co-workers, then yes."

"Don't be self-deprecating, you're way cooler than a silly side-kick."

You raised your eyebrows at him, "I wasn't Robin in that analogy, but thank you."

"Wait, I'm Robin?"

"You are a grown man who just used the world silly un-ironically, and I feel like that's something Robin would do. Just to clarify I don't know shit about Bat-man."

"Hey I'm barely a grown man- I'm not 25 yet, that would entail being a grown man, and I've got time 'till then! Anyway, stop going off-topic."

"Then move on from being weirdly defensive about being an adult in the eyes of the state."

"Touché. So, we're co-workers."

"Correct. What's the point."

"That's a problem."

"Why?"

"Well, ok this needs to be prefaced so consider this me shushing you in a respectful and not sexist way. You have been shushed."

"...Ok?"

"Shh! Now I get to ramble. So you know movies?" He gestured towards the school's collection of movies that sat next to the tv, and you nodded confused. "So in these movies, things happen certain ways, but those certain ways seem just as scary as the opposite of those ways." Yeah, he was totally high. "So, wow I'm starting so many sentences with the word 'so'. Anyway- I want to tell you something but I don't want it to be like a movie but I don't want it to be like not in a movie either. So I just want to say it then leave. Like- I'm going to run after I say it. Is that okay? You are temporarily un-shushed."

"If you're dying it's not, but if it's basically anything else then yeah. Go for it, you speedy coward."

"Cool. I mean- the nickname hurt but cool. Cool." He looked at you for a second. "Can you like... turn around?"

"Turn around?"

He now acknowledged that that was an odd thing to ask. "...Yeah. Is that dumb?"

"No, no, I'll turn around." To lighten the awkward mood, you made a joke. "A reasonable price for your terrible secrets to be revealed to me." It was not a very funny joke, but you tried your best and earned a (pity) scoff from him.

You were now both sitting criscrossed on the couch, facing the same direction. You were staring at a wall you found very uninteresting, and he was staring at the back of the head belonging to a person he found very interesting.

"So- basically I think you're... pretty..." He said the word intending to add another adjective after it, like 'cool', but he decided against it because that would be stupid. "And I have this problem where when I figure out I want to, quote-unquote, date someone, which is a gross word, by the way, I'm always friends with them. That means it has to be this dramatic thing. But I don't want it to be! You know? I just want to tell you that I have a stupid crush on you like a normal person. And- that's why I suddenly started hating training, because who likes to see people they want to smooch almost fake die, huh? No one! That's who! And I want to explain why I like you, but whenever I talk to Wanda about you, I always end up describing you the way a first grader describes their crush! Like: she's pwetty and smawt or whatever but that's fuckin' dumb. I guess that makes sense because I don't have crushes on people ever, and I barely dated in school, so I have no idea how to do this and I just want to pass you one of those 'hey, do you like me?!' notes with the fuckin' checkmarks!! And I am an adult person who is kind of afraid of kissing! What?!? Also, I don't have abs like Scott! Or boobs, and I know you like people with or without boobs and boobs are great! Also, to backtrack, don't think that I think you would go for Scott, even though if you were to, I would be supportive of you, but also sad because I would prefer if you went for me! So I want to be normal. Normal like the people in movies who meet someone cute and ask them out and not like the movies with the big stupid confessions. Trust me, if I had noticed that I whatever you like a year ago, I would have asked you out! Well no I wouldn't of because I would be too afraid to talk to you. But anyway I made you this," He reached around you and handed you a folded-up note. "Don't open it until I run away, but just leave it here with your response. If you check no, I bet if we paid Jean enough money she would erase this interaction from our brains. I only have seven dollars but I'm betting on a 'friends and family' discount. But.. if you say yes, I can ask you out like a dick in a movie, knowing you'll say yes because I am a speedy coward. I want you to call me a speedy coward when I do cowardly shit speedily, then do this cute thing where you'd be like 'but you're my speedy coward''. Anyway, I'm going to leave now. Love ya, but in the way we always said it beforehand, not in a dramatic confession way. Sorry I delved into my childhood there. Bye." You felt him awkwardly pat your back.

There was a gust of wind that ruffled your hair, and you knew he had run away.

You lifted the note up, mind empty, still processing everything he had rambled to you, and started carefully unfolding it.

It was one of his previously mentioned "Do you like me?" notes.

You willed yourself not to straight-up giggle like a 12-year-old at his note. It was messily written, and clearly on the back of a mission briefing.

Shit, you didn't have a pen. You looked under the couch cushions but there was no form of a writing utensil in sight! The audacity.

You knew Peter well enough to know that he was probably not too far away, waiting for the result of his question and trying not to spy.

"Hey... uh... Peter? I don't have a pen."

Peter hit his forehead with his hand, where the fuck was he going to get a pen? It's not like he owned pens that were actually in a designated spot! How ridiculous would that be, who did he look like, Charles? Charles! Charles has pens in designated pen places!

So Peter ran into the headmaster's office and found a pen. He wrote a small note stating that he borrowed a pen and that he would return it. Looking at the note Peter found it did not fully encapsulate the desperate need for the pen. The note ended up something like this:

Hey Charles! It's Peter! I took borrowed a pen because a very serious situation manner situation has arised. arisen. From, Peter. You can't get mad at me because if you could legally marry my dad you would be married and I would basically be your step son! Thanks half dad!

He thought the addition of the 'step' in stepson effectively hid the fact that Charles was a father figure of his. What was he doing here again? The serious manner!

In an instant of you telling Peter that you did not have a pen, one appeared.

"Thank you!"

You checked the yes box, but had a want to write something adorable. You couldn't think of anything so you just wrote "This was weird." under your checkmark. Well played.

You entertained the idea of resuming your movie but decided against it, you thought it would be more dramatic if you left the room.

The minute you made your exit Peter sprinted into the room. He opened your note, jumped, pumped his fist in the air, realized that was nerdy, and tried to make a cool pose to recover.

Now he just had to figure out how the fuck he was going to ask you out.