#them boys are just... woof. ya know?

[transgender-catboy]

got some stickers in the mail!!! Courtesy of my beloved friend and mutuals ( @jazzums ) redbubble

[charliemwrites]

Good morning! This is just a warm up, not canon to the series.

Anyway — bark, woof, awoo

It’s a cool fall day when you nearly die.

Johnny’s run off into the woods barking - not his scary bark but his excited bark. You’re worried that he’s gonna get his teeth in some poor local wildlife and go hurrying after him, boots unlaced.

Of course it’s hopeless to go chasing after a wolf-dog even running at half speed, but you can’t stand the thought of him coming home with a dead bunny or something. So off you go, clomping through the trees, calling for your big dumb fluffy butt to come home.

But it’s not your Johnny that comes trotting out of the trees. No, it’s an even bigger, wolfier looking dog. Creamy white fur, honey gold eyes, and odd black markings around the face like a skull. You instantly know he’s not like your goofball, a little less human-friendly, perhaps more feral. Looks at you like he’s trying to decide if you’d make a decent meal.

Is someone breeding them and just.., letting them out?? Some weird poorly thought out attempt to reintroduce wolves to the UK? The thought makes you frown, praying that you won’t come out here one day to find some poor pups struggling in the wilderness.

For now though, you’ve got yet another gorgeous animal in front of you.

“Well, hello,” you coo, softening and smoothing your voice. His ears tick forward. “Look at you, handsome thing. Have you seen my Johnny boy?”

The dog tilts his head - your first indication that he is familiar with humans, recognizes the tone of a question. You hum.

“Alright big guy, would you like to come with me to find him or are you doing your own thing?”

He doesn’t respond (of course) except to make a little “ruff” noise. You consider him for another moment, then decide he’s not being aggressive and it’s safe to continue your search.

You turn and continue on the path, calling for Johnny. Don’t get far before your new friend sweeps in front of you, blocking the way forward. You make a noise as you stop quick, nearly losing your balance to avoid stepping on his paws.

“Oh you big jerk,” you huff. He instantly starts pushing at you, big shoulders pressing against your stomach as he shoves a big, wet nose into your neck and face, focusing on your mouth. You roll your eyes and gently push his nose away.

“Knock it off,” you grumble, trying not to laugh. “You wolves are so rude. You don’t need to do that to smell me.”

He moves on to your clothes, all the way down to your crotch. You’re ready this time though, taking a big step back and guiding his face up by the chin.

“No.”

He snorts and shakes off, looking almost annoyed.

“Oh, yeah, how dare I not let you sniff my junk?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Grow up, you big baby.”

A deep, raspy grumble starts up in his chest. You ignore him, patting at the thick muscle of his shoulder.

“Yeah yeah, you’re a big scary boy,” you joke. “Ya gonna bite me? Show me your big pretty teeth?”

When you reach for his face he takes a step back, ears flicking. Looks almost shellshocked. You finally break, giggling as you croon baby noises at him.

“Oh, poor boy, did I spook you? I’m sorry, baby. No, no you’re very scary. Very intimidating.” You start scooting around him, amused how curves around you almost like he’s afraid you’re going to touch him. “It’s okay, buddy, I just need to find my boy. I’m not out to get you.”

As if on cue, Johnny comes bursting from the trees. He barks when he sees you, then almost comes up short when he realizes the other dog is there.

You become acutely aware that you’re not all too sure how Johnny will respond to another dog - especially one so close to you given his protectiveness. You instantly move between them, calling his attention.

“There you are, Bonnie Johnny! Where have you been?! Naughty boy, you better not have eaten anything fluffy.” His ears go back, a little whine starting up. He ducks his head to let you grab at his muzzle, inspecting him for anything gross. “I do not feel like wrangling you to brush your teeth.”

Luckily, he seems clean. Whatever had him so excited, he must not have caught.

Movement behind you catches your attention, the other dog loping closer. Your eyes bounce between them, watching body language for any aggression or hostility. To your relief, Johnny seems almost excited by this new friend - the other one… well, he seems a bit more subdued, but lets Johnny lick at his chin and bump into his side.

“Okay, ready to head home, baby boy?” you ask, giving Johnny’s collar a gentle tug. “I have to start making dinner.”

He whines, turning those big blue eyes on you and positioning himself behind the other dog. You groan.

“Johnny, really… I don’t know if I can handle two of you. I don’t even think he likes me very much.”

As if to spite you, the other dog sits and leans in, licking at your hand. And damn it, it’s cute.

“Alright, hold on, let’s just see if…”

This time, the other dog lets you touch, feels around his neck for a collar that unsurprisingly isn’t there. You feel around his shoulders too, hoping for that tiny bump that means he has a microchip, but nope.

“If I have a nickel for every time I found a wolf-dog in the woods…” you sigh, turning back for home. “It would be two nickels but it’s weird that it happened twice.”

When you notice both pups stalling, you whistle sharply.

“Come. It’s getting cold.”

Johnny instantly bounds ahead with excitement while your new companion is slightly slower, staying just a bit behind and to the side of you so that you can see him from the corner of your eye.

Back at home, Johnny leads the way inside. The strange dog looks around curiously, sniffs at a few spots. It’s then that you remember Johnny marking the house his first couple days and notice that Mystery Dog is also unaltered.

“Hey.” Both dogs turn to you. You point at the new one sternly. “If you pee on anything in here - anything - I’m dying you pink. By god I’ll do it, there are dog safe hair dyes.”

You get a sneeze for that and he walks away with disinterest, but at least he keeps his leg down. You’ll take it.

Dinner is interesting, no fussing or fighting over food from either of them. When they’re done, you retire to the couch, Johnny happy to follow up until he sees that his new friend isn’t coming as well.

He starts yipping, bouncing, bowing, trying to get the new one to follow. You’re amused up until Johnny nips and the bigger dog growls, showing teeth. You plant yourself instantly between them.

“Hey.” You look the new dog in the eye, get into his space and back him away from Johnny. “No the hell you’re not.”

The new dog stares, eyes locked on yours, ears swiveling. You don’t back down, watching and looking waiting, still bodily between him and Johnny. Until finally his ears go back and he sneezes, laying down.

“Good.” You soften your voice, sigh. “Good boy.”

You offer your hand. Get a sniff and a resigned lick, then scratch at your new boy’s ears.

“You be nice, big boy. Everyone in this house is mine. I take care of everyone.”

His eyes do a weird thing then. You’re not sure how to describe it, combined with the way his head tilts. But you just chalk it up to Weird Dog Things and finally return to the couch, an oddly subdued Johnny clambering up with you.

“You can join us, honey,” you call to the other dog. “You’re welcome up here if you behave.”

He doesn’t take you up on it for awhile. You and Johnny settle in for your usual nightly shows. And then, about an hour later, movement draws your eye. The Mystery Dog, standing at the edge of the couch with his tail down, ears neutral.

Earlier drama forgotten, you smile at him.

“Hi there,” you chirp, “you want up? C’mon, bud. Up.”

He hops up with surprisingly gentleness, picking his way around your limbs and Johnny’s. He ends up crawling over your dog and settling half on top of him, and half on top of you, his chin settled between Johnny’s stupid perky ears. Johnny seems thrilled so you laugh a bit.

“What good boys,” you coo, giving them each a scratch and receiving a kiss in return. “Alright, this isn’t so bad.”

You fall asleep there, already trying to come up with name for your new pup. Maybe Phantom.

Main Story | Konig pt. 1

Masterlist

[atinylittlepain]

Marcus Pike x f!reader

(there is no masterlist for this man, good luck to this man)

He's looking for something other than vanilla, and she is more than happy to provide such a service to him.

warnings | 18+ this is smut, pegging, rimming, sucking and fucking, sex work, lowkey sugardaddy!marcus, sweet shy marcus getting his world rocked, and then pancakes and a blackberry and a black american express card so ya know, the works.

a/n | this was written LAST MAY woof - i think originally it was supposed to be for the first round of the PMAMC (also woof) but she's here now :') special thanks to @wannab-urs for resurrecting this fucker. there is a part two... just sayin

..............................

The first thing she notices about him is that he’s nervous. He keeps loosening and tightening his tie, eyes glancing around in quick, anxious sweeps. He’s definitely never been here before, she would’ve remembered a face that handsome, strong jaw under a little scruff and big brown eyes that set a smile tugging at her lips when he finally meets her gaze. 

“Hey there, handsome, welcome in. First time?” His eyes drop down to the floor, a clipped laugh coming out as she steps closer to him.

“Am I that obvious?” He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes crinkled in a shy smile that sets warmth spreading in her chest, bringing a delicate palm to his shoulder.

“Just never seen you around before, that’s all. What brings you to Pandora’s tonight?”

“Well, I, uh– I wanted to– um–” He cuts his own rambling off, jaw slack as he watches a man in head to toe latex walk by, being led on a leash by one of her coworkers. 

“Hey, don’t worry about them. I wanna know what you want. Would you feel more comfortable talking some more in one of our private rooms?” Eyelashes fluttering, spine arched, she knows exactly how to reel them in, noting the dip and bob of his throat as he nods.

“I– yeah, um, yes please.” Manners, she likes that. She slips her hand down his arm, taking his hand before turning heel and tugging him down the dark hallway, taking them into one of the vacant playrooms. It’s one of the tamer rooms, a four poster bed in the middle, red silk sheets, and a dark chest of drawers off to the side full of all sorts of fun. She guides him to sit down on the end of the bed beside her, his hands immediately going to his thighs in a nervous squeeze. His eyes are still darting everywhere, but mostly to the tops of her breasts, pressed up in the strappy leather corset she has on, though he doesn’t let his gaze linger there long before jerking his eyes back up to her face. 

“You don’t have to be nervous, baby. I just want to hear a little about why you came in, and how you’d like to be taken care of tonight, alright?” He nods, clearing his throat a few times before replying.

“I just– you gotta know that I’ve never done anything like this before, really. But, I don’t know, I guess I wanted to try something different? My, well my ex-wife, I think she thought I was too, um, vanilla. So I guess I want to– not be– um, vanilla anymore. And, Jesus Christ, you probably think I’m crazy, huh?” Somehow, he manages to still be handsome and look like a kicked puppy at the same time, and she has to resist the urge to push his flop of hair back and press a kiss to the crease between his brows.

“Not crazy at all. So when you say not vanilla, what does that mean to you?” When he gives her no answer, eyes only widening as he seems to wrack his brain for what to say, she laughs lightly, bringing a palm to his thigh and giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Why don’t we start with the basics? Do you see yourself being more of a dom or a sub?” 

“I– what does that mean, dom and sub?” Oh boy, more basic than the basics then.

“Dom is shorthand for dominant, that’s the person in control in the relationship, and they’re usually the one inflicting any pain, if you’re into that. And sub means submissive, that’s the person who follows the dom’s commands, who gets taken care of.” 

“Oh, right, that makes sense. I mean, I don’t think I’d be very good at being in control like that, so I guess, more submissive?” I’ll say. She offers him a nod and smile, still trying to coax some of his anxiety out of him.

“Sounds good, handsome. If it’s alright with you, I can be your partner for the night. Let’s get some paperwork for you and then we can get started, ok?” He only nods, something she’s going to have to work on with him.

“For this to work, I’m gonna need you to always use your words with me, alright? That way I know exactly what you do and don’t like.” She says it to him over her shoulder as she rifles through the chest of drawers, getting out a waiver and a pen for him. 

“Uh, yes, ok, I can– I can do that.” She sits back down beside him with a hum, passing him the paperwork, watching his brow furrow as he reads over it.

“That’s a list of kinks we do and don’t participate in. Are there any that you’re particularly interested in exploring tonight?” Another clear of his throat, keeping his eyes glued to the paper when he responds.

“Do men– do men really like that? I mean, I’ve heard of it, but, does it feel good?” She looks over his shoulder to where his finger is pointing, her lips crooking into a smile when she sees what’s caught his attention.

“Mmhmm, it can be very pleasurable, with an experienced partner, of course.”

“And you– are you, um, experienced?” Her smile broadens into a grin at his question, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“Oh baby, I’m very experienced. Is that something you’d like to try out tonight?” He seems to consider it, his eyes darting from her lips back up to her gaze a few times before he finally nods.

“Fuck it, yeah, I wanna do that. But is it ok if that’s the only thing we do on this list? I don’t think I’m really into the whole– chains and whips thing.” She laughs at that, giving his shoulder a squeeze as she nods.

“Whatever you want. Just need you to sign that waiver which basically affirms that we’re all clean here at Pandora’s, and you are too. You’re familiar with our pricing, right? It’s three hundred for an hour, and five for two.” 

“Is it ok if I do two?”

“You’re the customer, honey. What you say goes.” With a decisive nod, he ticks the box next to two hours on the form, signing his name on the dotted line before handing her back the pen and paper.

“Nice to officially meet you, Marcus. You can call me Daisy, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.” As she sets the paperwork down on the chest of drawers, he lets out a light laugh, drawing her attention over her shoulder.

“That’s not your real name, is it?” Stepping out of her heels, she pads back over to him, standing right between his legs, setting down the items she grabbed before guiding his hands onto her hips.

“It’s not, is there something else you’d like to call me for the night?” He takes a sharp inhale as she drags his hands from her hips, up and up until his palms are cupping her breasts through her corset.

“I, um– Daisy’s good, yeah.” Letting her hands fall away from his, his eyes search hers, obvious in looking for permission that she’s happy to give.

“You can touch me, Marcus, whatever makes you feel more comfortable.” 

“Can I take this off of you?” His fingers are toying with the laced-up front of her corset, which she lightly bats away.

“It’s a little tricky, let me.” She makes deft work of unlacing the garment, a known path for her fingers that usually bores her, though there’s a little kick of something else, him watching her and the fine flicker of her hands. Marcus lets out a laugh at the grin she offers him, fizzling in his throat when she lets the corset fall away to reveal herself to him, standing before him in only her barely-there shorts. The heat of his hands just hovers over the swell of her breasts, and she can’t help the sigh that thrums in her throat when he finally lets his palms press against her skin. It’s not often that a client affects her like this, and she has to clear her throat to refocus on the real task at hand.

“Why don’t we get you out of your clothes? Sit back for me.” She’s undone dozens of ties, worked her fingers through miles of shirt buttons, and doesn’t even have to look to get trousers unfastened now, but she can’t shake the prickle running up her spine at the way his eyes follow every movement, and she can’t hide the shudder that runs through her when he tentatively tucks her hair behind her ear as she works his pants down his hips. 

“Have you been doing this for long?” She shoots him a look from her spot between his legs, his pants discarded to leave him in just his briefs.

“Are you really trying to make small talk?” Oh, he’s blushing now. She likes that, crawling closer and dipping her head down to press a kiss to the center of his chest before dragging her lips up and up, catching at the bob in his throat before letting her mouth just hover over his, feeling the shaky pants of his breath.

“There’s no need for that, Marcus. I’m gonna take care of you now, and I need you to tell me what you like, and what you don’t, do you understand?” His voice comes out a little hoarse, and she can feel the thrum of it where her chest is brushing against his.

“Yes, I understand.” A grin is all she gives him, ducking down before his lips can meet hers as she lets her mouth drag a trail down his torso until she’s nipping at the waistband of his briefs. 

“Can I take these off?” When all he does is nod, she gives his hip a light pinch, something between a laugh and a grunt jumping from his chest at the sensation.

“Yeah, you can take them off, I– sorry.” She smoothes her palm over the spot she pinched, smiling up at him.

“That’s ok, baby. Just remember your words for me.” He can’t be real, that’s all she can figure when she gets him totally bare before her, his cock a perfect pink that matches the flush on his chest, thick enough to set her jaw aching in anticipation, and long, pre-come smearing in the tuft of hair over his pelvis. She can’t help but wonder why the fuck anyone would ever want to leave him when he’s this pretty to look at. 

“Can I touch you? Get you warmed up for me?” He’s propped up on his elbows to watch her kneeling between his legs, lips swollen from how much he’s been biting them, slightly parted in something like wonder.

“Yeah, yes, please.” 

“Hmm, I like a boy with some manners. Just relax, Marcus, and remember, I’m here to take care of you.” With that, she presses a kiss just below his belly button, smiling against the twitch of his muscles before dipping down and letting her lips ghost over the underside of his cock. It’s involuntary, the hum she lets out when she takes him fully into the heat of her mouth, relaxing her throat like she’s learned to do, a necessary move in order to take all of him. And he’s perfect beneath her, thighs flexing under her splayed palms, low moans rumbling in his chest as she alternates between swallowing him down and lapping at his leaking tip. She knows she’s done her job, that she’s loosened him up, when those moans start to get a little louder, a little more drawn out, and he slumps down off his elbows to run a hand through his hair, eyes scrunched shut. A kiss over one hip, then the other, keeping her palm steady on his heaving belly while she reaches for the lube, his eyes squinting open to see why she stopped. 

“You ever used lube before?” 

“No, never needed to, I guess.” 

“Well it’s gonna be your best friend tonight. I’m gonna warm a little up in my palms and then I’ll let you get used to the feel of it, ok?” He hums out an mmhmm, watching her hands rub in quick circles, his eyes following the subtle shake of her breasts with the movement. And when she gets her hands on him again, slicking her palm up his cock, a hiss slips through his lips.

“Sorry, is it still cold?” 

“No, fuck– just feels really good.” She grins at that, letting her wrist flick, hand in an easy glide as she slips her palm down to cup the weight of his balls, his groan cracking and shooting up an octave, hips jolting at the sensation. 

“Has no one touched you like this before, baby?” 

“I– Jesus, no– no one’s done that before.” 

“Well that’s just not right. Feels good, huh?” A little squeeze to punctuate her question sets another moan loose in his chest as he presses his head back into the sheets.

“Y-yes, feels really good.” She nudges his thighs open a bit more, letting her hand slip down lower, not pressing, but circling, gauging how he reacts as she keeps her other hand easily stroking his cock. 

“Remember, need you to tell me what feels good and what doesn’t. We can stop at any time. Do you like what I’m doing right now?” His eyes are still shut tight, one hand fisted in his hair, the other tangled in the sheets, pleasure pulling his whole body taut.

“Yeah, I like it. It’s, hah– it’s different, good, different good.” His words go a bit slurred when she presses her finger forward, opening him up as he lets out another breathy moan. 

He takes it well, whimpers and moans crackling in his throat as she starts a steady thrust, only pausing to work a little more lube over her hand. 

“Doing so good for me, Marcus. You wanna try taking a little more?” He sits up on his elbows, surprising her a bit with his firm reply.

“I want more, want you to use that on me, please.” He tilts his head over to the strap laying on the end of the bed, once again catching her off guard.

“You sure you’re ready for that?” He tilts his head at her, a crooked smile on his face.

“Didn’t you say something about the customer always being right?” She lets out a real laugh at that, shaking her head at him as he just grins, clearly pleased with himself. 

“I guess so. Alright, handsome, why don’t you get on your hands and knees for me? We’ll take it nice and slow.” He seems a bit taken aback by that request, his smile going a little slack as she gets off the bed to step into her harness, though he catches himself, clearing his throat and shifting around on the bed into the position she asked for.

She can’t help herself, getting back on the bed and kneeling behind him, laying a quick pat to his very cute ass that has him craning his neck over his shoulder to look at her.

“Sorry, just looks so good I had to give it a little tap. You ready for me?” He hums his assent as she slicks her fake cock in lube, bringing one palm over his low back in a reassuring circle as she scoots in closer. 

“Just relax, Marcus, this is about you feeling good. That’s it, open up for me.” She works her strap in slow, curling over him to press her lips in a murmuring of praise into his shoulder blades as he whimpers beneath her, his hands fisted tight in the sheets. 

“How’re you feeling, baby? Is it too much? We can go back to what we–”

“No, no. I just– just need a minute, fuck– didn’t think it’d feel this good.” She’s not being professional about this, she knows it too, but she doesn’t care. A professional would be checking the clock, making sure that he gets his before his time is up. A professional wouldn’t be laying kisses over his shoulders, whispering to him that he’s doing so good, that he can take it, that he’s so pretty like this. But nothing about the way she wants him right now feels professional, the way she wants to take care of him, to make him feel good, to keep him feeling good for as long as she can.

“Just say the word. I move when you want me to.” 

Slow and smooth, nothing but patience and permission in how she fucks him, her hips slotting with his again and again and again, simmering down into a close press, her chest draped over his back and her hand working his cock in time with her thrusts when he finally unravels beneath her. He slumps down onto his forearms, a slur of curses punching out of his lungs as she runs her palms up and down his shuddering back. But what he does next is so unexpected she finds herself at the mercy of his movements. The moment she pulls her hips away from his, he turns over underneath her, still catching his breath as his hands find her hips, insistent and harsh in the way he pulls her down onto the bed. He’s certainly a sight, cheeks flushed and hair perfectly mussed up in every direction, his eyes blown dark and wide as he hovers over her.

“Can I take care of you now? Is that allowed?” A professional would say no, that his time is up, get him a towel and a glass of water and process his credit card.

She doesn’t say no.

He fumbles a bit with the straps of the harness, letting out an impatient groan that makes her giggle, quick to bat his hands away and make easy work of shimmying the whole thing down her legs. And the smile he gives her as she does is downright sheepish.

“That’s, uh, a bit tricky.” She brushes his hair back out of his face, thumb settling against the dimple in his cheek, a move that’s entirely too sweet and she knows it.

“Just a little. I’m all yours now though.” He doesn’t waste any time, ducking his head down to press a sweet kiss over the top of her breast that turns salacious when he slides his tongue down over the tight peak of her nipple, her back arching up into the heat of his mouth as he lets his teeth graze over the sensitive skin. His hands are splayed around her hips, greedy and insistent in the way his fingers curl and press into her ass, lifting her hips up to slide her tiny shorts off her legs before he settles back between her thighs, his nose brushing against her twitching stomach, dark eyes flickered up to meet hers.

“Is this ok? Can I taste you? Make you feel good like that?” He steals a move from her book when all she does is nod, his hand that’s still curled around her hip laying a gentle pinch to the swell, his grin going boyish as she huffs out a laugh.

“Can I have your words, Daisy, please?” She tilts her head at his shy question, enjoying the flushed flare creeping up his cheeks.

“Hmm, you’re a fast learner, huh? Yeah, baby, I want your mouth, Want you to make me feel good.” 

It’s not that she had been expecting him to be bad at it. But she also hadn’t been expecting him to be so fucking good either. Head thrown back, thighs trembling around his scruff, moaning his name good. He’s not precious about it, licking a flat stripe through her cunt before letting his tongue catch on her clit in a harsh press, dipping back down to lap up the slick pooling at her entrance, a continuous circuit of pleasure that has every muscle in her body tensing up. He groans low in his chest when she rakes her fingers through his hair, tugging just a bit unkindly when his teeth graze her clit. One large palm snakes up to grasp at the swell of one of her breasts, his other hand pressed across her pelvis to keep her spasming hips still as he fucks her with his tongue, the strong hook of his nose dragging across her clit with each pass. And it hits her all at once, that snare of pleasure snapping hot and hard as she comes with a stilted moan of his name, her heel pressing between his shoulder blades, keeping him exactly where he is, and he continues to work her over as she comes undone on his mouth. 

She tugs at his hair again when it becomes too much, her hips jolting at the thrumming chuckle he lets out when he finally pulls away, resting his cheek against her hip while she tries to catch her breath. They lay like that for a hiccup of time, just staring at each other, a dazed smile on his glistening lips that she knows is mirrored in her own hazy grin. Eventually she lets out a long sigh, reaching out for him and thumbing away some of her arousal that’s smeared across his jaw. 

“Do you wanna, like, get a burger or something?”

“Is that– is that a part of my two hours?” “Oh baby, your two hours were up a while ago.”

…

He’s waiting for her right outside the club, and she mentally kicks herself for having worn sweats and a hoodie in for her shift earlier, though he doesn’t seem to mind, smiling big and broad when she steps outside to join him. 

“I know you said burgers, but there’s a diner around the corner that does the best pancakes in DC. Sound good to you?” She likes this version of him too, confident, certain, a bit old-fashioned with the way he holds his arm out for her to take like they didn’t just wreck each other a few moments ago, letting her hold onto him the whole walk over to the diner, opening the door for her, the whole chivalric production.

It’s so late at night, they’re virtually the only people in the place, tucking into a cracked vinyl booth and putting in their order, pancakes and scrambled eggs and bacon, the works. And they share every last bite, having both clearly worked up an appetite after their evening together.

Though he’s vague about it, she can suss out for herself that he’s some sort of higher-up government type, she knows them well, and in turn, she answers his questions about her, that her work at Pandora’s is good enough to be supporting her through college, Marcus seeming to perk up when she tells him she’d like to be an art teacher one day. He’s older than her, at least enough to have already been married and divorced, but she can’t find it in herself to care about that, too busy enjoying their easy conversation, the subtle game of footsie they have going on under the table, and the way he smiles at her, all of his attention on her. It’s so strange, so different, so starkly contrasted to the way her nights usually go, not that she minds the simple rotation of disinterested clients, but she hasn’t had someone look at her, really look at her the way Marcus is, in quite a while. 

“I have to admit, I wasn’t really expecting my night to end like this.” Plates long cleared, each of them nursing a mug of coffee as the first sweeps of dawn start to light up the streets outside, she smiles at his admission.

“Good surprise or bad surprise?” He grins at her question, leaning in on his elbows like he has the wildest secret to tell her.

“Really good surprise. I mean, I just think you’re– amazing. Fuck, is that weird of me to say?” She mirrors him, leaning in on her elbows, a smile threatening to quirk her lips.

“Hmm, no, it’s cute. For the record, I think you’re kinda amazing too.” Their faces are so close, and she realizes all at once that she hasn’t even kissed him yet.

“Only kinda, huh? Guess I didn’t do my job then.” She can almost feel the curve of his smile as she laughs at his simpering response, the sound getting swallowed when he closes the space between them, pressing his lips to hers. And he’s good at this too, his palm coming to cup her jaw, thumb stroking along her cheek as he deepens the kiss, licking into her mouth and nearly melting her on the spot. Though it’s over too soon for her liking when they get interrupted by someone clearing their throat in front of their table, pulling away to see the rather annoyed looking waitress setting their check down and shuffling away with a sour side-eye. She opens her mouth to protest when Marcus reaches for his wallet, but he waves his hand, black American Express glinting in the diner’s fluorescent lights.

“Don’t worry about it, baby, I’ve got it. It’s the least I can do after going over my two hours.” She can tell he means it as a joke, a flippant remark, but her stomach still sinks at even the suggestion of this still being a business transaction. It’s a sore spot for her, and though she’s more than comfortable with the work she does, her exes hadn’t been, nor had they been kind about it for that matter.

Busy signing the check, Marcus doesn’t notice the way her face falls, and she’s already out of the booth and halfway out the door of the diner when he finally calls out for her, further rubbing salt in the wound when the name he uses is Daisy. 

“Woah, woah, hey, what happened in there?” The hand he hooks around her bicep is gentle but insistent, and she can’t help the tears threatening to spill over when he turns her around to look at him in the faint morning light.

“Look, if that’s all this is to you, just business, that’s fine, but I have enough respect for myself to not–” He cuts her off, bringing his broad palm to cup her cheek again, his eyes wide and unwavering.

“Hey, that’s not what this is– I mean, at least not anymore. We did meet under some, ah, particular circumstances. But this isn’t business to me now, if that’s ok with you?” He thumbs away her stray tears, and she nearly goes dizzy with the relief she feels hearing those words from him. 

“I’m sorry, baby, it was a stupid thing to say, wasn’t even thinking.” Baby, it’s the second time he’s called her that. She’s never anyone’s baby, they’re always hers, but she likes it now, coming from him, finding herself smiling into his touch.

“I don’t want you to call me Daisy.” His eyes soften, smile tempering as he nods.

“Ok, what should I call you?” She tells him her real name, and with it, the last shred of her professionalism dissolves, and she doesn’t care one bit. He says her name like he’s rolling a hard candy around in his mouth, slow sugar in each syllable before he presses a kiss between her brows, lips trailing down to catch hers in a sweet smack. 

“Can I see you again? And, definitively not as, um, as business?” It makes her laugh, how quickly he shifts between confidence and constraint. She likes both. 

“I would really really like that, Marcus. Am I giving you my number or are you giving me yours?” His eyebrows shoot up his forehead, like he’s surprised she actually wants that, though he’s quick to catch himself, clearing his throat and smiling.

“Uh, both? Both is good, right?” They swap phones, and she can’t help thinking to herself that of course this man has a Blackberry, stifling a giggle as she types in her number. 

“Can I walk you to your car? It’s back at the club, right?” 

“Oh, I don’t have a car, actually. Just take the bus to get around.” He doesn’t seem to like that, lips pressing into a thin line as he looks at her.

“How about I get you home this morning? Would that be ok?” Under any other circumstances, she wouldn’t dream of getting into the car of a man she just met, but seeing as she’s already broken a dozen of her cardinal rules with him, she doesn’t think twice about getting into his sleek BMW that’s still parked outside the club. He keeps a palm splayed just above her knee, thumb idly swiping back and forth, a soothing lull as she gives him directions toward her apartment complex. She hates to admit it to herself, but she’s a bit reluctant to get out when he does pull up to her building, leaning over the console for a kiss that he willingly gives her. 

“So I’ll call you?” She lays a kiss to the small patch in his scruff, smiling against his skin when he lets out a huff.

“I’ll answer. Thank you, Marcus, for a really nice night, and morning.”

When she gets inside her apartment, she slumps back against the door, blowing out a long exhale and shaking her head.

“Fuck.” Her boss is going to kill her, but she doesn’t really care. 

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Hard to Shake (M, cold)

Woof, that was too long of a hiatus. I'm back with some Greyson sickfic! In this, Greyson has a one night stand and ends up 'running into' his hookup in a not-so-stellar way. This was a fun write, I'm feeling a little rusty after taking a couple months off writing but I hope you all like it. Please let me know what ya think, good, bad or indifferent! :)

CW: M snz, colds, contagion, coughing, some M/M romance but nothing above PG-13 lol. 5k words (it's a slow burn, shocker, I know)

Hard to Shake

The club was dark, humid, and loud as fuck - just the way he liked it.

“I’ll get us drinks,” Matt said, disappearing into the crowd to push towards the bar without waiting on Greyson’s response. Not that he would have stopped his counterpart; Matt had a boyfriend waiting for him at the end of this black hole of a night. Greyson, alternatively, was on the prowl for a bed, and someone to share it with.

They had begun the night at two pm, just an hour after brunch ended, since the only way to get a proper buzz on a Sunday was to start early as hell. Elijah had closed the restaurant early – “We’ve had ten guests all day. It’s too damn hot for brunch, and I want to go home” – and Mark was currently on a plane home from England after a week spent with family; it was like the universe was begging them to go out.

The restaurant’s reservations had been capped at a tiny number the next two days to prepare for their food writer dinner on Wednesday, and Greyson was so nervous about this career-shaping dinner that he could barely keep himself from lapsing into panic attacks at the slightest provocation; it was Matt who insisted on the bender.

“We haven’t gone on a good one since Mark and I got together,” the sous chef had said after service. “And you need a drink, you're acting like a psycho.”

Greyson, never one to deny himself a good binge drink, had taken the bait and allowed himself to be paraded through the city for the rest of the day. Now, at eleven pm and with Mark back at his and Matt's place safe and sound, Greyson could feel the night coming to a close. Time to round it out with a good old-fashioned one-night-stand.

Without waiting for Matt to return with the drinks, Greyson sashayed onto the dance floor and began grinding on whoever seemed the most into it – he ground on a group of drunk men, twirled between two gorgeous women who laughed giddily through the song, and put his tongue into so many people’s mouths that he lost count. Of course it was fun; it always was. But the hunt for a bed partner had proven, thus far, unsuccessful.

“There you are,” Matt slurred, coming up behind his boss and shoving a whiskey into his hand. “Why do you always run off? I’m about three seconds away from getting you one of those toddler-leash backpacks.”

“Makin’ friends, Matty boy,” Greyson said, chugging his drink and slamming the glass onto the closest table he could find. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of goin’ home to a warm, naked man in our bed.” Greyson elbowed Matt playfully and the younger man rolled his eyes.

“Fair ‘nough,” he said, sipping his drink. “Hey, actually, I saw someone who was exactly your type back near the bar. Talkin’ about food and everything.” Greyson raised his eyebrows, intrigued, and Matt looped his arm into his boss’s and led him back towards the horseshoe-shaped bar. “Let’s see if we can’t get you fucked to sleep.”

Matt pushed the two of them through the crowd, his head on a swivel, until finally he spotted the man he’d been talking about. “There he is,” Matt said, pushing Greyson towards the bar. “Do your thing.”

The sous hadn’t lied; this man was quintessential Greyson’s type. Shorter than his six-foot-three-inches by about half a foot, perfect skin, hair coiffed in a way that just smelled of total pretentious douchebag, and a full blazer and dress pants at the club. Oh yeah, Greyson thought, pulling the elastic out of his sandy curls and shaking them to fall around his shoulders, there’s the rest of my evening.

“Hi,” Greyson said, pushing himself in front of whoever the guy had been talking to before. “Can I buy you a drink?”

***

In his defense, he hadn't known the condition of the man he'd left with until they got to his apartment. The club had been dark; he could barely hear the sound of his own voice, let alone the wheeze of someone else’s. And he’d been really, really drunk.

“Hh-! EISHH-oo! ISHH-oo!” The man – Reed, Greyson had learned his name was – curled into his elbow to sneeze as he pushed open the door to his apartment. “Shit, pardon mbe,” he muttered, clearing his throat and beckoning Greyson in. The chef, blasted as he was, simply ignored Reed’s constant sneezing.

“Now, where were we?” Greyson purred, pawing the back of Reed’s head and pulling it into his own. The two stood in the entry of Reed’s apartment – a truly incredible fifteenth-story one-bedroom in the Upper East Side with its own doorman – making out until Reed had to pull away to catch his breath.

“Shit,” he said again, panting, “sorry. Thought the worst of this fuckin’ cold was behind mbe but – ISHHOO! Snrf. Apparently ndot.” He wiped his nose on the back of his hand and cringed. “I understand if you don’t want to stay,” he said, giving Greyson an apologetic look.

Greyson remained unfettered. “Reed,” he said, taking a step back towards the other man. “Stop talking. And get in bed.”

Reed’s face colored. He opened his mouth to say something, but Greyson cut him off with another kiss.

“What did I just say?” Greyson asked, taking off his t-shirt and unbuttoning Reed’s expensive-looking button down. “Get in the bed -” - he yanked the shirt off the smaller man and licked him, navel to collar bone, prompting a moan - “- and let me take care of you.”

To his credit, Reed did as he was told. He did as he was told all night long.

***

“Lij, I don’t want to alarm you.”

“Greyson, I don’t want to hear it. Zip it. I’m being so serious right now.”

“I don’t want to alarm you,” Greyson repeated, slamming the rest of the bottle of Pedialyte and holding onto the prep table as if for dear life, “but I think I may be dying. I think I may need you to call me an ambulance.”

Elijah swung his chair around and strode towards the chef. He took the sunglasses Greyson had placed on his face the moment he walked inside the bright kitchen and tossed them across the room. He regarded the chef with an annoyance usually reserved for parents of crying toddlers at Disneyland.

“Your drinking antics, Grey, are what most people would describe as ‘a you problem’. You decide to get unreasonably wasted and then come in to prep one of the biggest dinners of your career? That’s a you problem. I don’t want to hear it. The only thing I want to hear is your knife going into and out of different types of food.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to hear about the incredibly hot guy I hooked up with last night?” Greyson asked, a smile blooming at his lips. Elijah, despite himself, felt his eyebrows raise halfway up his face.

“But you haven’t slept with anyone in months,” he said, annoyed at himself for taking the bait but too curious to stop himself from saying anything. “I thought you were on a self-imposed time-out?”

Greyson shrugged, pushed his hair into a bun at the top of his head, and secured it with an elastic. “I was,” he said. “But - and you’re not going to believe this, but it’s true – I am finally feeling… I dunno. Healed?”

“Healed?” Elijah asked, snorting. “I think you’ve been taking too many hot yoga classes. Like, spiritually healed?”

Greyson tipped his head back and forth, considering. “Kind of,” he said. “Like… ready. Moved on from Collin. Prepared to get back out there for real, not in a self-punishing way.”

Elijah whistled, long and low. “Wow,” he said, patting Greyson’s back. “Well, congrats, man. A little over a year and you’re finally back on your feet. That’s actually quite impressive.”

“Thanks,” Greyson laughed, shoving Elijah playfully. “I was also really drunk and you know nothing stops drunk-Greyson when he decides he’s going to sleep with someone.”

“There it is,” Elijah said, rolling his eyes and laughing. “So… tell me about him. Did you get his name?”

Greyson dead-panned his boss as he pulled knives out of his bag and cracked his neck. “Yes, I got his name, Elijah. That’s what healed people do, they get people’s names before sleeping with them, and I am, as previously stated, healed.”

Elijah flipped the chef off lazily, non-committal. “Well, out with it then,” he said. “What’s his name? Tell me about the night.”

“His name is Reed Parker, and we fucked til the sun came out,” Greyson said simply, laughing at his own gregariousness. He looked up when he realized that Elijah wasn’t laughing – in fact, his face had gone stark-white. “What?”

“Reed Parker?” Elijah asked, pulling out his phone. “You’re sure that’s his name?”

“Umm, according to him at least, yeah,” Greyson said, unwrapping a pan with a cleaned striploin in it. “Why, do you know him?”

“No,” Elijah said, pushing his phone towards Greyson. “But if that’s him, we’re going to know him in two days.”

Greyson looked down at the phone and felt the wave of nausea he’d been holding back all morning wash over him – oh. Oh, no.

Pulled up on Elijah’s phone was an Instagram post from The Foodie Society – a group of well-acclaimed food critics and writers in the city. The group that was hosting a dinner at Elliot’s in two days. The group that would likely be the deciding factor in whether Greyson got nominated for a James Beard award this year.

We are so excited to announce Reed Parker, writer of the extremely popular food blog, ‘Eat Like You Mean It’, as our newest Foodie Society member! Reed has been a prolific writer and food critic in the city for nearly five years, and we are so delighted to have him aboard. Can’t wait to collaborate with you, Reed!

Above the blurb was a photo of – undoubtedly – the man that Greyson had slept with the night before. He looked markedly healthier in the photo, and his hair was a little longer, but there wasn’t any was it wasn’t him. Greyson swallowed hard.

“Oh… shit,” Greyson muttered, lowering himself to the floor. “Oh, no.”

“Maybe he was drunk, too?” Elijah said, the panic clear in his voice. “Maybe he won’t remember?” Elijah kneeled down next to Greyson, trying to console him. “Hey, Grey, it’s alright. Obviously you guys didn’t know who the other one was. It’s not like he’s going to think you slept with him to get the nomination. It was just drunk sex. Right?”

“He gave me an out,” Greyson muttered, shaking his head. He looked up at Elijah, eyes wild. “Maybe he did know, or maybe he figured it out on the walk back to his place, because he gave me a fuckin’ out.”

“What do you mean?” Elijah asked, pulling Greyson back to his feet. The chef stood, but placed his head in his hands and his elbows on the prep table, as if to steady himself.

“He was getting over some sort of sickness, and he said he’d understand if I didn’t want to stay. He basically told me to get out and I just… fuck. I told him I didn’t care, and I stayed the night. Shit. I’m never going to get nominated now. There’s no fucking way.” Greyson rubbed both hands down his face and shook his head in disbelief. “I fucked myself.”

“Greyson,” Elijah said, taking his friend’s chin and lifting it so their eyes met. “You didn’t fuck yourself. Okay? He didn’t know it was you. It was a mistake, and also he’s brand new there, it’s not like he’s THE deciding factor. Just – wait, did you say he was sick?”

Greyson, his chin still in Elijah’s fingers, looked away from his boss with just his eyes. “Uhh… I mean, yeah, kind of, I guess. He had some sort of cold, I think.”

“You purposely slept with someone who was sick three days before this huge dinner?”

“Umm… did I mention I was really drunk?”

Elijah sighed loudly and threw his hands in the air. “Never a dull fuckin’ moment with you, is there?” he mumbled, storming into the office and pillaging through their medicine cabinet. He returned a moment later with Emergen-C and Airborne in his hands. “Take those.”

“Yes, sir,” Greyson muttered, pulling them to his side of the table. “Sorry.”

“I think it’s crazy that out of all the millions of people you probably saw yesterday, the one you just so happened to pick is a food writer who could decide your future fate who also had a fucking cold. There wasn’t a single other person in the city you could sleep with?”

“Apparently not,” Greyson muttered, pouring Emergen-C into his water bottle. Elijah took a deep breath before continuing.

“Let’s just… let’s try to get through the next couple days,” he said, heading back to the office. “I am glad you want to get back out there,” he continued from afar, “just maybe give them a cursory Google before you bang them next time. Okay?”

Greyson, completely deflated, just nodded. He swallowed and thought he could already feel a twinge of a sore throat, which would just figure. His dick had sealed his fate. Fuck.

***

Tuesday, May 12

NEW MESSAGE

Matt

3:53pm

r u almost back??? idk how much longer I can handle them at each others throats.

Mark

3:58pm

On my way back now! Are they at each other’s throats again?? I thought they were over it..

Matt

3:59pm

has elijah ever REALLY been over smthn..? & greyson’s going down fast af so hes pissy.

Mark

4:02pm

It seemed like he was in the downward slide when I left...ugh. ok, I’ll be back in 15!

“We are ndot,” Greyson said from behind his sous chef, “at each other’s throats.”

Matt jumped at the sound of his boss’s voice and quickly clicked his phone screen off. “Don’t read my private texts, Chef, that’s rude.”

Greyson shrugged and pulled a tissue out of the box on the desk next to Matt. “Don’t talk shit about your boss and you don’t have to worry about mbe being ruuhh – huh! Hh...IGTSZHH-ue! Hh-NTSHZH-ue!” Greyson crumpled into the jacket he’d pulled over his chef’s coat to sneeze. His hair fell over his face, blocking the grimace he hid as he sucked in through his nose.

“Bless you, moron,” Elijah called from the dining room. Greyson rolled his eyes so hard he felt it splinter in his head. Matt winced when he saw Greyson shudder with pain, and stood from the desk.

“The prep sheets for tomorrow are all written, Chef, tell me how I can help you,” he said, guiding Greyson into the chair. Greyson allowed himself to be sat down, despite his better judgment.

“I feel pretty good about -”

“You feel pretty good? Is that a joke?” Elijah asked, pushing through the swinging kitchen doors and leaning on the office door frame. Greyson gave his boss the dirtiest look he could muster and turned back to Matt without a word to his boss.

“I feel confident about the first three courses for tomborrow’s dinner, but the steak and dessert I feel like we’re way behind. Plus I have ndo idea how the guys are looking for service tondight, so pick which one of those you’d rather tackle and I’ll – hhuh! Hh...HUHESTZHH-ue! Fuck, snrf.” Greyson grabbed another tissue and blew his nose before finishing. “I’ll do the other onde.”

Matt nodded while Elijah stood wordlessly in the doorway. “I’ll get with the guys and help them with tonight, make sure it goes smooth,” he said. Greyson nodded back and his sous looked away and scurried towards the line. Elijah, in stark contrast, pushed past Greyson and sat at the other end of their shared desk, unwilling to look away from the mess that was the executive chef.

“How ya feeling?” he asked finally. Greyson pulled another tissue out of the box just in time.

“HRTSHH-ue!” he sneezed into the tissue and let a tickling flurry of coughs escape as well. Elijah sighed, looked into the kitchen, and reached past Greyson to shut the door to their office.

“How are you feeling,” he asked again. “Seriously.”

Greyson sighed wheezily and pulled a hand down his face. “Honestly?” he said, looking Elijah in the eye, “like fuckin’ shit.”

Elijah sighed as well. “You seemed okay when you came in this morning,” he said, as though it mattered.

“I felt okay this mborning,” Greyson admitted. “I mean, I felt like it was coming but I definitely didn’t feel this… shitty.” He shrugged. “It just… I don’t kndow. Hit mbe out of nowhere.”

Elijah nodded. “I mean, if you want to leave so you’re good for tomorrow, you know I’ll understand.” Greyson just scoffed.

“I have so mbuch shit to do before tomborrow,” he said, sucking in through his nose and coughing again. “There’s ndo way in hell.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, until Elijah sighed. “Fuck, Greyson. I’m really sorry.” He looked up at his friend, the true pity evident on his face. “I know how important this dinner is to you. It’s still going to be great, okay? If you need to par it down, do it. It’s not like they know what’s on the menu til tomorrow. I’m cutting off reservations tonight so you can go home early, okay? We’re going to make this work.”

Greyson had to set his jaw to keep from tearing up. “It’s mby own damn fault,” he said. “Ndo need to baby mbe – hh...HTSHH-ue! HRTSHH! NTSHH! Huh! Huhhh-ETSZHHH-uee!” Greyson collapsed into his own lap, lapsed into coughs again. Elijah handed him a water bottle, which he took the cap off of while wiping his nose with the other hand.

“Can we go back to you being a dick to mbe?” Greyson asked, his voice rough. “That I can handle.”

Elijah pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Sure, Chef. Get your lazy ass up and start prepping,” he joked, pushing Greyson’s arm lightly. “Sitting is for the weak.”

Greyson smirked, an attempt at a laugh that wouldn’t make him cough. “Thanks, Lij,” he said. “Let’s get this stupid fuckigg show on the road.”

***

Course One

Compressed Cantaloupe

tarragon | smoked sea salt | brown butter crumble

Reed sat in the cushy, velvet chair and attempted to make himself comfortable. He hoped beyond hope that this dinner would go as quickly as humanly possible.

After their little rendevouz at the club, of course Reed had looked Greyson up; in this day and age, who wouldn’t look up their previous night’s partner, if only to make sure they weren’t some sort of psycho killer. And after he looked him up, of course he realized that oh. It was that Greyson Abbott. The same one whose food he was about to be poised in front of. The one who he and his fellow writers gathered around this table were tasked with deciding whether or not he was worthy of a Beard nod.

Of course.

Reed shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. The other writers had started talking immediately and, this being his first dinner with them, he was feeling awkward and left out. He really could have used the distraction of talking about their craft, but apparently he would have to earn a word tossed in his direction. This was going to be a long evening.

At least the restaurant is beautiful, Reed thought to himself. He’d never been to Elliot’s before, and now he was kicking himself for it. The wrap-around bar, the view of the park, the chandeliers… everything was gorgeous. He just wished he wasn’t here with these people, under the circumstance that his fling was in the kitchen plating up. That put a bit of a damper on things.

“Good evening,” a husky voice came from the head of the table, and Reed whipped his head to see a gorgeous plate of food placed in front of him, and the absolute god of a man he’d slept with a few days before standing just feet from him. Reed swallowed hard.

“I’mb Greyson,” Greyson said, and Reed immediately clocked the congestion in his voice. So you did give him that cold. Asshole, Reed chided himself. Greyson attempted to clear his throat before continuing.

“If you’ll excuse mby voice, I’mb at the tail end of a cold,” he continued, and Reed felt his face flame. Tail end, he thought. Yeah, sure.

“Our first course is compressed cantaloupe,” Greyson said. “I hope you enjoy. Pardon mbe, I have to get back to screaming at mby cooks.”

The group laughed in earnest as the chef walked away. Reed, too embarrassed to even look at the other writers, just picked up his fork and gathered a bite on it. He stuck it in his mouth and closed his eyes.

Christ, Reed thought, he cooks as well as he fucks.

Course Two

Hamachi

yuzu pearls | grapefruit | coconut crème

“I swear to God, Mbatt, what is goigg on?” Greyson yelled the moment he walked back into the kitchen. “We’re already behind, and none of the hamachi is on the plates yet? Can we please get it the fuck together che – ehh! HhITSZHH-uh! HRITSZHH-ue!”

Greyson yanked his chef’s coat over his nose and mouth and ducked away from the plates. The cooks called, “Bless, Chef,” and Elijah came up behind him with Sudafed – “The good shit, from behind the pharmacist counter,” he’d promised Greyson earlier, when he made an emergency trip to Walgreens for medicine – and popped two into his hand.

“I just took two,” Greyson croaked, sucking in through his nose.

“Well, it sounds like they’ve already worn off,” Elijah countered. Greyson swallowed the pills and coughed. “Is he out there?”

“Of course he’s out there, Lij, did you think he’d cancel because of mbe?” Greyson said, washing his hands and heading towards the pass to place hamachi on plates. “Like you said, hopefully he doesn’t remember.”

“Hard to forget a giant, loud, blonde buffoon who’s sporting the cold you just got over,” Elijah murmured, and Greyson flipped him off. “Just saying,” Elijah said.

“I don’t have timbe to think about him,” Greyson said, swallowing painfully. “I can’t think about anything but this.”

Elijah nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “Let me jump in with the pearls.”

Course Three

Lamb Lollipop

harissa | mint chutney | bbq ‘chip’

“Pretty incredible, right?”

These were the first words uttered to Reed all night, said moments after the third course was placed in front of him and seconds after Greyson disappeared back into the kitchen. Reed could see him dip into an elbow to sneeze before he made it back to the kitchen. He cringed; poor guy. This was all his fault.

“Reed?”

The writer who’d spoken to him waved a hand in front of his face to snap him out of his stupor. Reed pulled his head back to the table and smiled. “Really incredible,” he said. “I mean, this guy has talent.”

“For sure,” the other writer said. “I mean, he’s been hoping for a Beard nod for years.”

“Yeah?” Reed asked, hungry for any bit of lore he could get about Greyson. The other writer dug into his lamb as he nodded.

“About five years,” he said. “The menu is deemed as one of the best in the city, and he changes it every single day. I mean, the guy’s an animal.”

Reed nodded slowly. He could only imagine how hard Greyson had worked, how nervous he was, especially with Reed's stupid ass sitting here to judge him. Especially when Greyson was sick as a dog.

“That he is,” Reed said, and he took another incredible bite.

Course Four

Rutabaga Tart

fennel | feta | cured egg yolk

“Matt can put these on the plates, Chef,” Elijah said, putting a hand on Greyson’s back. “Take a quick break before you have to talk to them again. Drink some water. Blow your nose.”

Greyson shook his head, pushed the flop sweat off his forehead. “This is mby shot. These are mby plates,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “I’mb here until the end.”

Elijah pressed his lips together and flashed Matt a look. The sous chef just raised his eyebrows and gave a little shrug. Once Greyson was like this… well, there was certainly no arguing with him.

“Okay,” Elijah said. “I’ll make you some tea, then.”

“Thank you, Lij,” Greyson managed, before ducking under the pass to sneeze into the collar of his chef’s coat. “God, fuck, I’mb gonna have to throw this thing away after this.”

“More like burn it,” Matt countered, prompting the first laugh from Greyson all evening.

“Burn it is right,” Greyson said. “HHITSZHH-ue!”

Course Five

Striploin

deconstructed bearnaise | white asparagus | duxelle

The fifth course was placed in front of them, and the writers looked up expectantly at Greyson.

“Forgive mbe,” Greyson said, his voice strained to a whisper. “I’ve yelled mbyself out in the kitchen, so mby number-two will introduce your last two courses.”

The writers tutted or laughed and looked over towards the sous chef – everyone except Reed. Reed was staring at Greyson, hoping he could hear his thoughts. I’m sorry you’re sick. I’m sorry I’m here. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

The sous finished the description and the writers began to eat once again. Reed was sure he could hear the younger chef say to Greyson, “Just one more, Chef,” as they walked back to the kitchen.

Reed sighed and took a bite of his steak. He closed his eyes; perfection.

He did not deserve to be here.

Course Six

Matcha Milk Bombe

coffee | pastry crumb

Greyson placed the final pastry onto the final plate and turned away to cough as the servers brought his final plate of food to the critics. He felt like he was attending his own funeral.

“I don’t think I can go out there again, Lij,” Greyson said, shaking his head and crouching down on the ground. “I can’t look at all of themb, I’ve embarrassed myself enough.”

“You haven’t embarrassed yourself at all, Grey,” Elijah promised, pushing Greyson’s sweaty hair out of his face. “But I understand if you’re too exhausted. I’ll go out for the last one, thank them all for being here.”

“Please,” Greyson said. Elijah nodded, stood, and left the kitchen to meet the writers, while Matt nodded towards the office.

“Go,” he said to his boss. “Sit. You did it.”

Greyson shook his head. “Gotta clean mbyself up first,” he said, standing and moving towards the kitchen doors. “I’mb using the damn guest bathroom, fuck those pretentious assholes.”

Matt laughed in earnest. “You’ve earned it for sure, Chef.”

Greyson slipped into the guest bathroom, hoping no one saw him, and locked himself in a stall. Finally, he sat down and let himself go.

“HITSHH-ue!” Greyson sneezed into the open, then quickly grabbed a handful of toilet paper to keep from becoming the restaurant’s biggest biohazard. “HTTSHH! IIITZSCHUE! Huh! Hh…. huh, huhhh… huhhETSZHHH-ue! Huh! HRRRSHHH! Fuuuck mbe.” Greyson blew his nose, beyond exhaustion. He felt like shit. He knew he looked like shit. He’d put out shit food, he’d been in a shit mood… this whole thing was just… shit.

Finally, feeling a little more cleared out, Greyson flushed the toilet paper and unlocked the stall. When he exited, he nearly jumped out of his skin. There, in the doorway, was his fling - Reed.

“Jesus,” Greyson said, placing a hand on his chest. “Give a guy a fuckin’ heart attack.”

Reed shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, then let Greyson by to wash his hands. “Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to scare you. Bless you. By the way.”

Greyson huffed out a laugh. “Thangks,” he said, drying his hands. “Sombe cold you’re passing around town. Shouldn’t you be finishing your meal? Or was it so bad you’re here to hock it back up?”

“It was incredible,” Reed said earnestly. “Truly, Greyson. Thank you. I… I’m sorry. For being here, for getting you sick, I – I didn’t know that this place was… um… yours.”

“Mmm, more Elijah’s than mbine,” Greyson mumbled, looking away from Reed’s face. “But, uh… thank you. Glad you enjoyed. Hopefully it's ndot for nothing.”

"I don't think it will be. They all had nothing but good things to say. I'm just the grunt, but I mean...you have my vote. You're... You're incredible," Reed said, the words escaping his mouth before he could even consider what he was saying.

Greyson tried to hide a small smile by looking down. They both stood awkwardly until Greyson cleared his throat. “I, uh… better get back to mby guys,” he said, starting towards the door.

“I had an amazing time the other night,” Reed blurted out suddenly. “I, um… I haven’t stopped thinking about it, actually.”

Greyson smirked, the tension finally broken. “Yeah?” he asked. Reed nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “You’re… you’re hard to shake.”

Greyson took a step closer to Reed, looking him in the eye now. He sniffled, rubbed his nose, and crossed his arms, a smile dancing on his lips. “Who are you, Reed Parker?” he asked. Reed’s face flushed bright red.

“I – I don’t know what you mean. I’m a food writer.”

“Mmm,” Greyson nodded. “Well, Reed the food writer who can’t get mbe out of his mind, at the moment I’m a bit, uh… incapacitated. But,” Greyson pulled a Sharpie out of his coat’s side pocket and grabbed Reed’s hand, “if I’m still rattling around in your brain in a few days… give mbe a call.” Greyson coughed into his shoulder, capped the Sharpie, and gave Reed a little smile.

“I will,” Reed said, biting his cheek. “Thank you. For, um… dinner.”

Greyson paused, thinking, then took a bold step towards Reed, grabbed his chin in his hand, and planted a deep kiss on his lips. “It was my pleasure,” he said, and stepped out of the room.

Reed stood, flushed and breathless, for a moment. The kiss sat, swelling his lips, sweeter than any dessert he’d ever had; he looked at the number on his hand, felt his heart catch in his throat.

Greyson Abbott, he thought, looking towards the bathroom door. Holy shit.

[21angryfrogs]

Inscryption Act 2 Dashboard Simulator

🔍 gadgetinspector Follow

i think we should all start unionizing actually.

🚬 shrimps.is.cards Follow

yer just mad cause ya didnt git a raise this month n i did.

#as the boss'd say: L + ratio

15 notes

☁️ dyke-mage Follow

just found out that rebecha is 26??? she should be at the club...

🔧 trans.on.a.mission Follow

"the club" is a state of mind i'm in when clobbering whoever keeps breaking my bridge. woof.

#im serious #when i find you its on sight

1,905 notes

🦦 iceekaycee Follow

for those not caught up on the old man yaoi lore...

#that makes 3 this month... #what is wrong with them

21,039 notes

🗝 wizstim Follow

⚠️ PSA!!!! ⚠️ guys you really need to stop telling people to k/ll themselves!! you never know what people are going through, and it can be really bad for people's mental health!!! 🍯 gooart Follow

^^^ SOME OF YOU SHOULD READ THIS OVER A FEW TIMES!

☁️ dyke-mage Follow

kys beam. get them, boys.

🕯the.melter.official Follow

kill yourself.

🚬 shrimps.is.cards Follow

kill yerself.

🎣 fishfearme Follow

krill self. now.

7,192 notes

🕯the.melter.official Follow

currently living in a peaceful state of tumblr fame where i'm popular enough to have to add "official" to the end of my blog name but not popular enough to have an evil shadow clone of myself.

🌋 the.melted.official Follow

HELP ME SOMEONE PLEASE DEAR FUCKING GOD LET ME OUT OF HERE

🕯the.melter.official Follow

... haha... did anyone else hear that....?

2,071 notes

🕸 wellitsgolly-deactivated277457

🔍 gadgetinspector Follow

how did she say that

92,644 notes

🦦 iceekaycee Follow

🍯 gooart Follow

does anyone else find it kind of troubling how many people are voting and campaigning against THEIR OWN EMPLOYERS?? i mean sure, sometimes they can be cruel, but we still owe a lot to them!!

☁️ dyke-mage Follow

grimora sweep.

🕯the.melter.official Follow

grimora sweep.

🪄 magikificus Follow

grimora sweep.

🔍 gadgetinspector Follow

grimora sweeHey Who Was That?

🦦 iceekaycee Follow

SCRYBES FOUND THE POST, EVERYONE SCATTER

#I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE THEY WERE ON THIS SITE??? #WHOOPS

276,651 notes

💾 po.tothethird Follow

for april fools i'm deleting this entire game. sayonara you insubordinate shits.

1,263,333 notes

[factual-fantasy]

27 asks! :00 Thanks ya'll!! :} 💖💖💖

Nope! Sorry, I don't take direct drawing requests or suggestions. <:/

Now I hear a few people saying; "But you've taken requests before" Now I do draw things in response to asks sometimes. But its rarely a direct request that I'm responding to. Usually its someone complimenting me on "something" and I feel so flattered and inspired that I draw that "something" again for them..

Would you think less of me if I said I legitimately was? For what I think is a very valid reason? Hypothetically of course-

@wolfie-777

:DD Oh hey!! Thanks!! Happy early Easter!! :}}} 💖🥚🥚🐺🥚💖

Oh there's no need to worry Anon, my body is kind'a forcing me to take a break... 😅

@yourstrulylightstar283 (In response to this post)

Thank you! And no worries, I'm sure I wont have to deal with all of this forever <:}

Happy late reply Friday! <XDD

@midnight193

Aww! Sweet widdol baby!! :DD

And thank you, I'm doing my best to take it easy.. <:}

Woof. That is quite the sentence to say to someone who's grieving their late wife-

Its especially strange considering that my Bowser isn't in love with Peach at all and isn't interested in replacing his wife-

I've heavily considered Louis having a crush on Ellie... 👀👀

The biggest eater is probably Louis, followed by Seafoam. Now Seafoam is no glutton mind you, he just eats a ton because he's so big and tall. He's got a lot of muscle that needs to be fed and maintained. Louis however just loves food and loves to eat <XDD

The pickiest eaterr.... couuuld be Red. Kids am I right? <XD Or maybe Spidercrab. He's rather thin so I imagine there isn't much he likes to eat. <:/ Or maybe Spidercrab isn't picky, he just doesn't have much appetite--?? <:DD

Aww! What a fun idea! :D I wonder if the game has anything like that.. and I wonder how a land animal like that would fare out on the ocean :0

(In response to this post)

Y-You realy mean all dat?.. Thank you.. 🥺😭💖

@manybrokenquills

XDD I am everywhere

(Also if you ever feel like getting those photos those would be hilarious to see XDD)

@rubyplayz12

YA- AWWWW... :(( sorry about the lost progress! I hope you catch back up to where you were pretty quick :( But YAY YOU HAVE IT BACK! XDD

A marshmallow cookie and a S'mores cookie already exist in the game :( so I shan't make my own 😔

I'm still working out the order of their ages.. So far I have decided that Ludwig is the oldest. And I'm leaning on Iggy being right below him, the second to oldest.

I'm solid on Bowser JR being the youngest, and Lemmy being right above him, the second to youngest. As for everyone else though..? I'm still trying to figure it out.

Thinking that Roy and Morton are on the older side, and Wendy and Larry are on the younger side. I just don't quite know what the order will be-

Hmm... I want Larry to be very different looking from Lemmy, maybe a bigger age gap would help. And I made Roy rather mature.. he could be older.. hmm...

Mayyybe.. in order from oldest to youngest, it goes,

Ludwig - Iggy - Roy - Morton - Larry - Wendy - Lemmy - JR..? I think I'll go with that for now <XDD

Now Bowser is complicated. Originally I wanted Bowser to be this ruthless monster. Both as a King and as a Dad.. But I made that Bowser around when the Movie trailers were all the hype. And boy, I hated how Bowser was shaping up to be. So my rotten Bowser was mostly just to make him more intimidating then the movie Bowser.

Since then I've settled down and thought that a purely evil Bowser is not that interesting.. or lore accurate. So I began to lean on him being a rather good dad, if not emotionally awkward.

....buuut then I saw the movie, and now I'm back on the Bowser hate train <XDD I guess right now its up in the air. He's not meant to be intentionally abusive or awful to his kids though. I'm thinking that maybe the gentle fatherly side of Bowser was usually brought out by his wife.. Since she's gone now.. well.. I guess he's a little emotionally absent at the least-

As strictly a King, I'm thinking that he's pretty rough. At least he's more ruthless than he may have been before. I guess a way to describe him as King would be.. The health and safety of his people are not his #1 concern. The strength of his kingdom and his position of power however, is. Though this Bowser is subject to change.. :/

XD He'd probably look like this 👇

@kaiserdarken

I'm not sure if the Pizzaplex would have decorated the place for Easter or not.. In present day or in the past.

But if they did in the past, I imagine it didn't feel much different compared to any other time of the year..

And if the present day Pizzaplex celebrates it..? I imagine its hard for the animatronics to see all the bunny imagery everywhere.. 💔

@beryl-shade

Google seems to suggest that there are no sirens in the games.. :( So Blue Beauty wouldn't be one, 😔

@hazardhazel20

Thank you!! I'm glad you do! :DD

You mean my Refinedtale Toriel.?

Man.. I'm sure she does.. (Though heck if I know what their names would be or any of that stuff-- but I'm sure Toriel would know <XDD)

Ooooo that's a good idea! :00 I haven't thought about it that way before..

@collisionofthestars-newblog

That sounds really fun actually! And normally I could see that happening.. though unfortunately, some of the structures I have set up in my AU make this scenario less likely..

For one, I intended for healing magic to be extremely complex and very difficult to master. And its intended to always leave a mark of some kind. A warning that Kamek gives to Lemmy and Iggy is something along the lines of "Whether you are healing, or destroying. Magic will always leave a scar." That's why Iggy's eyes look so strange and half of Lemmy's face and hair is discolored. The act of repairing their eyes left a mark on them..

What I mean by this, is that Kamek couldn't just turn around and heal them after every sparring session. Because it is very challenging to heal with magic and they would both be left with scars.. So they would both have to heal naturally over time after sparring. And considering that the Commander has a very important job, it would be wise to not tire him out or injure for the sake of some emotional relief.. :(

Although.. there could be a more mild version of this perhaps? Where the commander is involved in Bowser's training.? But not as his opponent. Perhaps he flies up high and chucks projectiles at Bowser for him to deflect. But not really getting involved on a way beyond that where he becomes overly exhausted or inured.

...Now for the Koopalings?? Dude, that's genius. Bowser is a hefty opponent and is sure to exhaust Commander and possibly even injure him.. But the Koopalings?? Commander would make a GREAT sparring partner for nearly all of them! :00

Specifically I can see him sparing with Morton, Roy, Ludwig and possibly Iggy. (The older Koopalings primarily) Whether its just muscle against muscle or being Iggy's target practice, I think he'd make a great sparring partner for the youngins :}}

It started with being inspired by my band-aid covered hands (due to dry hands and cat scratches) and adding them into my sona

Nowadays its maintained by me having reaaaaally dry hands 💀 (I wash them way to often/harshly and don't rehydrate with lotion often enough-)

You mean the factual fam? Aw, I'd like to think so. :}}}

Bold of you to assume Jangles doesn't have hair

@ghfhgkfngjvfnvfnvmfkf

<XD Yes, Bibi is around 2 years old-

[the-himawari]

A3! Miyoshi Kazunari - Translation [SSR] MANKAI Treasure (2/3)

*Please read disclaimer on blog

---

*flashback starts*  

Kazunari: Phew… Lovelin and the others at the Dog Circus sure were adorable~. Everyone was just too cute, I keep looking at the pics I took of them on my phone over and over again.

*door opens*

Kazunari: Ah, welcome back, Tax! Are you back from a run?  

Tasuku: Yeah. I was running along the riverbank.  

Kazunari: You go on both a morning run and an evening run… your self-discipline is no joke~.  

Tasuku: Well, I enjoy running after all. …  

Kazunari: Hm? What’s up?  

Tasuku: …Are those pictures from the circus? That reminds me that I actually watched the dog circus the other day.  

Kazunari: Huh? Hold on, are you talking about the same dog circus I appeared in?  

Tasuku: Are there any others?  

Kazunari: HUHH!? You came to watch! You should’ve shot me a line if that’s the case~!  

Tasuku: Sorry about that. I was going to tell you but missed the chance to.  

Kazunari: Sooo, how was it?  

Tasuku: Well… it was fun, plain and simple.  

Kazunari: I know, right~! It totes raises your sprits right up! Ah, and me? How ‘bout me?  

Tasuku: You worked hard, didn’t you? The crowd was riled up when you guys appeared too.  

Kazunari: Woohoo! Tax complimented me ♪  

Tasuku: Also… the dogs were a sight to see. Their skills were impressive with the way they carried the balls so well and jumped so dynamically.  

Kazunari: Ah, right! You’re a dog lover, aren’tcha! Is that why you came~?  

Tasuku: …That’s not the only reason, okay?  

Kazunari: I’ll just leave it at that~. …Ah, that’s right! That reminds me, there’s a spot I wanna go with you, Tax. If you’re down, then let’s go together!  

Tasuku: Huh? A spot you want to visit?  

-pause-  

Dog A: Woof, woof!  

Kazunari: They’re so cute I’m gonna die~! Shiba inu cafes are a fluff-filled heaven! Here, here. Head pats for you~.  

Dog A: Woof!  

Tasuku: They’re brimming with energy…  

Dog B: Arf, arf.  

Dog C: Bark!  

Kazunari: I wanted to try coming here with you since you love dogs~… err, woah! The puppies are all over you, Tax. They’re all gathering at your feet! Give them some pats~!  

Tasuku: Sure thing. …Here, here.  

Dog B: Arf ♪  

Dog C: Woof~.  

Kazunari: The interaction between a big, rugged man and an adorable little doggo totally hits~. Let me snap a pic later!  

Tasuku: No.  

Kazunari: Aww! Buzzkill!  

Dog D: Arf, arf, arf!  

Tasuku: Would you like me to throw this ball? Here goes—.  

Dog D: ARF, ARF!  

Dog B: Woof, woof…!  

Tasuku: Hey, that tickles. Haha. Here. Good boy.  

Kazunari: (Tax is smiling from ear to ear~. What a rare expression we don’t usually get to see!)  

-pause-  

Kazunari: Ha, they were all so cute~. Tax with the dogs was super cute too. It was relaxing and I got to see something great!  

Tasuku: …I’m not a spectacle.  

Kazunari: But you know what they say! Good people are liked by animals! The doggies could totally tell, wouldn’t you say~?  

Tasuku: …I don’t know about that.  

Kazunari: Ahaha. Just take the compliment, will ya~! Ah, look. There’s a merch corner! There’s plushies and mug cups… All of them look cute~!  

Tasuku: I see… they have stationary too?  

Kazunari: —! Hey, lookie here, Tax! Isn’t this t-shirt cute af!?  

Tasuku: …Uh. The dog is cute, but is the shirt cute…?  

Kazunari: It totally is! But it might look pretty funny if you wore this, huh? Why don’t you wear it as your rehearsal shirt?  

Tasuku: No thanks.  

Kazunari: As expected~. Btw, do you still have some time after this, Tax? I won’t take no for an answer!  

Tasuku: What is happening? …Well, I don’t have any particular plans.  

Kazunari: I’ll treat you to a meal as thanks for coming along with me! I found a restaurant that has some tasty-looking chilled ramen~. You like chilled ramen, right?  

Tasuku: I mean, yeah… I’m surprised you remember.  

Kazunaru: That’s because I thought it was cute that you like chilled ramen! I’ll guide, so you drive! Let’s go!  

Tasuku: Good grief...

*flashback ends*  

Kazunari: After that place started serving chilled ramen, we started going there together every now and then~.  

Tasuku: …Right. I guess that was the trigger. On that note, here’s your present.  

Kazunari: Thanks! “On that note” was a weird segway, but okay! Can I open it?  

Tasuku: Yeah.  

Kazunari: I wonder what could be inside~ ♪

*opens*

Kazunari: —EH!? Isn’t this the t-shirt they were selling at the shiba inu café!  

Tasuku: I remembered you liked it. I passed in front of the shiba inu café and they weren’t selling the exact same design… but I found and bought something similar. Like you said back then, you can wear this t-shirt during rehearsals.  

Kazunari: I’m so happy~! Thanksies! I’ll wear it ‘til it gets all worn out!  

Tasuku: Great. I’m glad if you like it. Since we’ve come all the way here, we might as well have some cold ramen, right?  

Kazunari: Of course!  

Tasuku: It’s your birthday, so I’ll treat you this time.  

Kazunari: Tax is so generous! Yippee!  

Tasuku: Alright, let’s go in.  

Kazunari: Ah! Hold up. You haven’t said happy birthday to me yet, have you!?  

Tasuku: Ah… …Happy birthday, Miyoshi.  

Kazunari: Thanks, Tax~!

---

previous | next

[natsuphoria]

if i politely asked for kuro + koga with an s/o (they/them) whos physically affectionate would i get a smooch from jes

HONEY MY BABY EVER !! i smooch u on the cheek regardless but you'll get an extra one just for this + multiple smooches from kuro and koga :3 i decided to do hcs for this one – if you’d like a scenario instead feel free to req again <3

kuro & koga w. a physically affectionate s/o

no mentions of reader's pronouns, gn reader

kuro’s no stranger to physical affection – i like to think his little sister was constantly clinging onto him when they were younger – so it's not something that catches him completely off guard.

when you first do it, he'd be slightly surprised, and perhaps a little flustered at the proximity. ah, he's so close to the person he loves… 

wide eyes + red cheeks combo teehee. he thinks it’s adorable how enthusiastic you are about showering him in your affection. 

soon, though, he's looking down at you with the fondest smile. he loves you so, so much okay he's down so bad. he’ll probably pat you a little or even give you a forehead kiss :>

we all know this man is strong. he’d totally drop everything to catch you if you run at him.

wrapping his arms around your waist, lifting and spinning you with ease… you’re giddy; from him or the spin? who knows…

at the beginning of your relationship, he wouldn’t initiate hugs or physical affection that often, but once he realises how much you like it he’s much more inclined to do so! he’s the kind of guy to place a warm, gentle hand on your lower back to guide you… it’s so comforting and grounding.

i also think you two are always holding hands in some way, maybe even linking pinkies bc you’re cute like that.

he’d 100% let you clamber onto his lap and shower his face in kisses. just. holds onto your waist and chuckles quietly until you’re done. 

overall he’s pretty receptive to physical affection, to the point where he adopts your mannerisms himself <3

koga under the cut!

now koga’s more of an enigma.

listen up now, he loves you, but he’s not gonna let that sully his tough guy image, ya got it? >:|

jokes aside, he’s likely to be eeeever so slightly put off by it at first, especially in the presence of his unit mates.

but he notices the way your face drops, the way you seem almost disappointed, and his heart squeezes. he never wants to upset you. you mean so much to him, and he never wants to be the cause of your tears.

you two talk about it and you agree to stick to a few rules. amazing. we stan communication in this household.

one, hand-holding is fine in public. he lets you cling onto his arm, play with his fingers, trace the lines on his palm… he also starts silently squeezing your hand three times, a secret code for i-love-you when he’s not able to say it out loud. 

two, quick pecks are also okay. the other members of undead have often seen koga pressing his lips to your forehead, pulling away to give you the most lovestruck look ever. (koga would deny this so hard but his cheeks are incredibly red. no one's believing him.)

three, he’s completely at your mercy in private.

as much as he pretends to be rough and tough, this boy will absolutely melt when faced with your affection. he’d be weirdly quiet… but it’s just because he doesn’t know how to react!

boundaries are great and all, but that’s not to say he’s never going to show affection in public! he’s not as direct as you are, but that doesn’t make his ministrations any less valuable – an arm casually slung around your shoulder, or a hand playfully ruffling your hair... these are common, simple ways he expresses his love physically.

he’s a good cuddler, i think. he starts off all stiff limbs and pink cheeks but when he gets comfortable it’s a 10/10 experience for you both.

he’ll absentmindedly drag his fingers across your skin… just lying there, thinking about you both… what a simp.

overall, pupiy : ‘i have no need for affection bark bark bark woof… well fine i guess it’s okay if it’s you. hmph.’ ← secretly loves it

[alovesongshewrote]

Kitten | The Lost Boys x Reader HCs

Plot: david calls you "kitten." you have an interesting response. [The Lost Boys x GN!Reader]

Word count:  809

Warnings: none

A/N: i have nothing against david calling his s/o kitten, but i mean,,, it opens the door for some interesting interactions if said s/o is a teensy bit unhinged

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a vampiric David in possession of a s/o, must want to call them kitten

I mean, it has to be

It’s a trope so common that the lost boys fandom low-key memes about it

Which is fair

I have nothing against the trope, but

I mean, the last time i saw the pet name “kitten,” it was in one of those discord mod and their kitten memes

So, dear readers, i offer you this scenario:

You’re relatively new to santa carla

One night you run into the vampires

Aaand you make a good enough impression that 1) they let you live, at least for the time being

And 2) they bring you back to the cave for a lil visit

It’s neat, it’s cool, you’re having a good time

And this goes on for about a week or so

And the whole time, everything is fine

Everything is chill

And you don’t get murdered, so that’s a good sign

(it’s because they find you interesting)

In fact

They’re actually chatting a bit about turning you

It’s a possibility for the moment, a suggestion that’s barely taken seriously

But y’know

One day you’re visiting the cave and they end up talking about it

Quietly

While you’re distracted

And eventually, a question pops up that only you can answer

Whatever the question is, it doesn’t get answered

Because david

Makes the brilliant decision (/s)

To call you over like this:

“C’mere for a second, kitten.”

And he does it in his low, seductive 

(“Seductive”) 

Kinda gravely 

“Where ya goin’, star?” voice that usually gets people going

But you?

You aren’t moved

You just stare at him for a second

Tilt your head one way

Tilt it the other way

And you go

In a voice that betrays your confusion and amusement 

“What did you just say?”

And he says again

Still with this

Overflowing confidence 

“C’mere, kitten.”

You blink a few times

Eyes open

Eyes closed 

And then 

Your face splits into a grin

And you say

“Meow.”

NOW KEEP IN MIND

You do not say this in a coquettish or sexy manner- you say it in the way one would say it to an actual cat, or perhaps to a child learning about animal sounds

And he like

Raises an eyebrow

And you say it again

You just

“Meow.”

And he opens his mouth to speak and you say

“Meow.”

And he finally gets the words out

Kind of

He says, “What-”

And you cut him off with another, “Meow.”

And he manages to say, “What are you doing?”

To which you respond

Say it with me now

“Meow.”

He continues to try to speak

And eventually he says

“Why are you saying meow, you’re not a- oh.”

Yeah, he cuts himself off that time

And that’s when the rest of the boys either catch on, or take their cue to be thorns in david’s sides

Or both

Because marko starts laughing, and then

Straight from the mouth of the vampire the Frogs dubbed “the little one”

“Meow.”

This

Sparks

Hellfire 

Because once marko starts meowing, paul starts meowing

And once they’re meowing (and once david starts getting irritated, which is instantly)

Dwayne starts meowing

And you’re still meowing 

So everyone is meowing but david

He is lost in a cacophony of “Meow”

Drowning in a sea of nya

He can’t get a word in, he’s just looking at all of you like you’re idiots

Which, like

You are

A little bit, at least

But you know how to have fun, so

Anyway, the meows begin to crescendo 

The moment nears its peak, and you kind of assume it’ll die down in a minute

But then laddie wakes up

And in a brilliant moment of sleepy word association 

The kid starts barking 

And you go

“Yes!  Woof!”

And now you’re all barking

And david has his head in his hands, silently promising himself to never use the pet name “kitten” on you ever again

It’s at this point that star appears

Playing David’s saviour for once

She simply says, in a very tired voice

“It’s 7 a.m.”

Ofc, the boys react as they usually do

Specifically paul, who goes all, “Chill out, girl”

But it is, in fact, 7 a.m.

So the subject is dropped as everyone fucks off to go to bed

And that’s that 

Or at least you think it is

But david has been thinking on this

He’s been plotting his revenge 

So a week later

You’re reading a book, or something

And david calls you

Tilts your head up with two fingers and says

“What are you reading, angel?”

And yeah, that one gets you

“Angel”

You hear the word again and again in your head

Your cheeks heat up and a chill goes through your body

And david just smiles

Finally satisfied 

[wisecreatorprofessorwolf]

Such A Good Boy, Who's a Good boy.

I haven't written much recently. I've had a lot to deal with recently healthwise, I'm hoping to post a bit more often. Possibly during the week too.

todays post will be for Jeff Sadecki from Yellowjackets. I'm hoping to write a lot of stories about this babygirl and his fondest times with YN and their kinky adventures.

so this fic is inspired but an ask I sent anonymously to fortheb0ys, I'd recently gotten into Yellowjackets from reading their work, and I was quickly hooked

Now the thing about Jeff, was he didn't get to explore kinks or try new things in the bedroom with his ex wife Shauna, that was until he met YN.

Jeff learned that he was into a lot of different kinks. Jeff thinks about the time he tried Puppy play.

FLASHBACK

While YN was at his company meeting, Jeff knew YN hated company meetings of any kind so he decides he's going to try and make YN's day just a bit better. He wanders around their shared private property naked most of the time, because he's a good boy and wants to make his boyfriend happy.

he reaches a dark room containing some of their special collection of toys and gear, their growing collection ranging from the sex swings, to the floggers. Jeff reaches to dog hoods and dog tail dildos, he longs long and hard over each one, till he decides on the just a simple golden retriever eared headband, and the matching dildo, which was one of the thickest but Jeff wasn't worried about the stretch or pain, he liked it, especially YN's thickness.

Jeff slides the toy in with ease and sits the headband on his head.

Now Jeff waits eagerly on his hands and knees. once YN arrives he instantly perks up at the sight before him. Jeff cutely waiting for him.

"Awww what a good boy" Jeff taps his hands on the ground and woofs. suddenly preening and howling when YN's hand strokes his hair.

"Who's my good boy?" Jeff intantly barks and nestles his head against YN's thigh " YN begins to walk towards the couch loosening his tie as Jeff follows and sits between YN's legs, head resting on YN's thigh as they lock eyes.

"bad day at work pup, but you always make it better baby" YN leans down to kiss Jeffs forehead then tilts his head up to kiss his lips. The kiss was messy and passionate as Jeff lapped up the attention. As the kiss parts YN shows Jeff the tie all Jeff did was nod furiously, knowing were this was going.

"Ok pup now for the collar" YN wraps his tie round Jeffs neck, Jeff suddenly buries his face in YN's pants lapping at the bulge.

"What a good boy, you know exactly what to do don't ya?" Jeff nods against YN's bulge "Ok pup you can have ya treat just let me remove my pants." Jeff ignores YN and grips the zipper between his teeth and drags it down looking directly into YN's lust blown eyes, with that YN removed his pants, Jeff slid them away. All that was left were the underwear, Jeff rubbed his face all over the heated fabric inhaling YN's scent, that raw musk was like a drug to him. Jeff begins pawing over YN's underwear "Ok i get the hint baby I'm removing them now" and with that YN removed them finally YN. Jeff finally had access to his treat he began with featherlight licks over the prominent vein and licked up to the tip, licking over the slit, taste buds bursting with the sweet and salty taste of YN's precum. Jeff's eyes almost roll at the taste, licking harder till with out warning suddenly swallows YNs cock whole lips stretched around YN's thick hardness, tongue twisting and flicking over the sensitive appendage lapping every drop of pre that is released.

YN's hands stroke Jeffs hair from his face "Such a good boy, your my good boy" Jeffs eyes roll back as YN begins face fucking him moaning and gagging around YN's cock, till tears pricked his eyes, Jeff enjoys this the strain of his jaw as he gets used like a toy. soon drool is just leaking from the seams of Jeff's lips, all of a sudden Jeff's head is held down all the way and feels a thickness explode as he's raised up that is when he fully tastes that sweet tangy cum he's become addicted to, filling his mouth, shooting rope after rope over his tongue, Jeff's eye roll yet again from the taste alone, there really nothing quite like it. jeff settles with the tip of YN's cock in his mouth licking over it, cleaning it. YN strokes Jeffs sweaty hair and removes the headband "You're such a good boy Jeff" Jeff whines when YN removes the headband "It's ok puppy you're my good boy ill put it back on now" which YN does to Jeff's relief, he then pulls away from YN's cock and turns away and lowers his head and raises his his ass presenting himself. With that YN felt himself harden, all that could be heard were Jeffs moans and whines as he shakes his ass.

Till YN's larges hands hold him in place, massaging Jeff's ass watching as his hole is sucking the dildo, with a firm tug YN removes the toy without warning causing Jeff to cum across the floor with a whorish moan, Jeff looks over his shoulder to see YN's dark predatory eyes boring into his body like he was prey, he quickly looks away as YN stares intently on Jeffs pucker twitching and fluttering as he breathes, suddenly Jeff moans when he feels YN's tongue over his entrance the wetness of YN's tongue as it glides over the rim and into his puckering hole caused Jeff to throw his hands back over YN's head. YN remained in Jeffs grip using Jeff's moans as guidance.

YN tapped Jeffs hands to release him, Jeff's hole now with a slick shine to it was more than ready for YN's cock, with that in mind YN gave himself a few extra tugs. Slowly YN slides his cock inside Jeff, causing him to throw his hips back on YN's cock, moaning desperately, wanting more. YN began to pick up the pace and increasing the roughness meeting Jeffs trust backs.

all that could be heard were moans, panting and skin slapping, Jeff almost choked as his head his pulled up by the tie he almost forgot he was wearing. How could he forget the tie YN wrapped round him as a leash. Jeff chocked being raised up to meet the hot chest of YN feeling YN lick, suck and bite his sensitive neck, he turns to heatedly kiss YN their heated passion boiling over it was all so much, that Jeff came again causing a small puddle to have formed on the floor. As the kiss breaks YN bites harshly into Jeff's neck causing a faint metalic taste of blood to hit his tongue but Jeff suddenly tightens up milking YN for all he had as hot thickness fills him to the brim.

YN slowly kisses the bite " you are such are good boy Jeff, Who's a good boy?" Jeff face down tilts his head to look at YN " Woof I'm the good boy" with that YN gives Jeff's ass a light spank and pulls his cock out to the mesmerizing sight of Jeff's gaped cream filled hole.

Jeff whines suddenly from the emptiness but also when YN lifts him about effortlessly to the couch, YN sensed this times like this Jeff wanted to stay in the moment as long as possible so he sat down and lowered Jeff's loose dripping hole down on to his cock causing Jeff to moan and nuzzle closer to YN's heated body. Snug and plugged with YN.

Feel free to like, repost and leave comments.

if you would like to suggest any kinks you want me to write for this babygirl leave them in the comments, I have a few in mind already but I'll happily take some suggestions too.

[starboybutler]

Lights up (Ch.3)

summary: John isn't handling rejection well.

word count: 3241

warnings: ‼️ blood, violence, useage of slurs, attempted rape ‼️

notes: woof this chapter got. heavy. i'm not good at pacing stories so sorry if it seems like everything is moving a little fast. i still have much more planned for this au, so dont worry!

chapter one | chapter two | ao3 link

“i feel like you’re dodgin’ me, you know?” gale didn’t bother to look up from his laptop. nimble fingers danced across the letters of his keyboard with a startling quickness, eyes set dead ahead. bucky felt his jaw clench at how gale was blatantly ignoring him.

he’d felt irritable since he dragged himself to class in the burning hot sun. the harsh beams worsened the persistent throbbing in his temples and made his mouth dry right up again, even after downing about four glasses of good ‘ol lukewarm tap water. every noise threatened to set him off- from the obnoxiously loud bell that rang every hour on the hour to the smallest rustle of the grass in the wind.

maybe he should stop drinking so damn much.

“i have a lot of schoolwork.” the blonde replies simply, plucking his glasses from his face and rubbing at his forehead with the heel of his palm. dark circles were forming under his eyes, and the usual nonchalant pout of his lips seemed more like a frown. “i know school isn’t your thing, but i do want to get my degree. it’s important to me.”

bucky hummed, rolling one of gale’s stray pens around on the desk with a finger. “nothing’s wrong with that. it’s just like- all you think about. all you do. work.” his eyes meet gale’s. the pretty blueish-green of them is dull, like someone sucked all the life out of him. “wouldn’t kill you to take a break. people die from overworkin’ themselves, you know.”

the blonde quirked a pretty eyebrow at him, the corner of his lip twitching minutely in what seemed like bemusement as he slid his glasses back onto his face. 

“yeah, i know. but breaks are how you start falling behind. a short little vacation, then it gets longer, and longer...”

bucky lays a warm, ruddy cheek on the cold surface of the desktop, the throbbing of his head starting to goad him into irritation with each second that ticked by. it felt like someone had smashed his skull in with a sledgehammer. “my roommate is smart. could help you with your work. y’know, if ya came over.”

gale’s lips parted before closing, twitching- like he was going to say something but thought better of it. a moment or dead silence passed between them before the blonde spoke, voice very, very quiet. 

“i dunno, john.”

his suspicions were confirmed by those two words. if he was so worried about his goddamn degree, surely he’d look for any extra help he could get. john just didn’t get it. why agree to a lunch date with him, run off, and then duck him whenever he had the chance? why not just say no in the first goddamn place?

his mind briefly wandered back to the previous night, when curt had galvanized him into going ti that stuffy frat party when he was still loopy from his orgasm. they were tucked away in a hot corner, john idly sipping from his dewy red solo cup as curt scanned the crowd for any frat boys he could fuck. that boy was insatiable .

“jesus christ, bucky, you’re curdling my drink with that sour-ass stare you got on your face.” he laughed, back pressed to the wall as his eyes scanned the crowd up and down dutifully. “would you stop thinkin’ about blondie for five goddamn seconds?”

“i can’t,” bucky admitted, his drink untouched as he stared at the way the smoke from the cheap fog machine dispersed into the air. “he pissed me off today. treated me like a creep on a date he agreed to- a date i didn’t even do anything wrong on, mind you.”

his grip on his cup tightened, his drink spilling over the rim and rolling down his arm in cold little rivulets until his skin was awash with cheap beer. curt smacked his teeth, snatching the crumpled remains of the cup from his hand. “why do you care so much anyway? you’re acting like you can’t fuck any other guy on campus. why do you need to fuck him so badly?”

“you wanna fuck him just as bad.” john reminded.

curt took a sip of his drink. “i do. but i’m not chasing him around like a little lovesick puppy. he’s hot– yeah, but christ, man.” he muttered. “you sure you just wanna fuck him?”

“what–?”

“look, john,” curt sighed. “you’re either a class a pervert or you’re in love with him. you better figure out which one and figure out what you’re doin’ wrong, ‘cause i hate when you get in your pissy little moods.”

john felt his bloom pink in a mix of emotions– anger, embarrassment, resentment. that conversation was burned into his mind, eating at him, wearing down his psyche until he couldn’t do much else but think about it. fucking hell– curt of all people should know that john egan doesn’t do love . he’s dated before, and each time, without fail, the relationship ended because he was too immature, or too brazen. no one could handle him for who he was, and that was fine with him. he didn't need anyone to hold his hand and try to fix him- to hold his hand and cull him like he was a sick little runt.

he wanted to fuck gale. that’s all. he wanted to take this blonde beauty, raw him, make him forget all about his useless physics degree while he watched him fall apart. He wanted to devour him, leave him gasping and begging for it, a look of sick devotion on those sharp features. 

but if he was gonna be such a stuck-up bitch about it, then maybe curt had a point– he wasn’t worth it. he was probably a lousy fuck anyways.

john stood, hissing at the fresh round of throbbing in his temples. “okay.” it came out far more venomous than he had intended. “you know where you can find me if you change your mind.”

he staggered a bit, grabbing at his head as he clumsily made his way to the classroom’s exit, vision blurring from the tears welling up in his eyes.

“where are you–?”

“hungover,” he said simply. he didn’t even bother to look back at gale as he pushed the door open. “goin’ back to my dorm. 

god, he needed a nap.

—---------------

“is he still sulking?”

bucky’s head was buried in curt’s mountain of pillows, as if he were trying to dispel himself from existence completely. he heard ken’s voice emitting from curt’s phone, the sounds of all kinds of tools whirring and buzzing noisily around him as he spoke. he never left that goddamn warehouse.

“yep,” curt laughed, one of his hands moving to card through bucky’s wild curls gently. “he’s been like this for a few days. i dunno if it’s because of the boy, or the hangover.” 

“maybe it’s both.” 

“you assholes aren’t helping.” bucky mumbled hotly against the sheets, peering up at curt, who had his camera pointed down at him so ken could see just how pathetic he looked. “and just so you know, i told gale he could fuck right off the other day.”

“yeah, and i’m the fuckin’ easter bunny.” curt wisecracked, turning his attention back to ken. “so what the hell was i missin’ in my motor, ken? piece of shit wouldn't start.”

ken completely ignored curt. “wait, gale?” ken asked, voice cutting out a little. “you mean cleven? blonde, tall, really quiet?”

“smokin’ hot, glasses?” curt finished, laying back against the wall. “yeah, him. why? thanks for ignoring my question, by the way.”

“it’s just…that’s who croz has been studying with for the past few weeks.” he explained. “ kinda funny that bucky’s so hung up over his study buddy.” ken laughs. “those two are practically inseparable nowadays. kinda surprised croz ain’t told you two about him yet.”

“wait a damn– fucking crosby!?” john shouted, sitting up and snatching curt’s phone from his hands and glaring at the blonde on screen. “you’re not pullin’ my leg are you, kenny? he’ll hang out with croz, who can hardly fuckin’ function like a normal goddamn person to save his life, but he dodges me like the plague?”

ken held his hand up in mock surrender, eyes widening as bucky yelled at him. “whoa whoa whoa– i dunno details, man, i just know that gale goes to his dorm a lot to do classwork. i’ve hung out with him once- and honestly, i see why they get along. workaholics, the both of them.”

“you're one to talk,” curt mumbled.

“fuckin’ bullshit.” john grunted, tossing the phone back to curt. “ugh.” 

“jesus, johnny, it’s not like they’re fuckin’!” curt laughed as bucky pulled a pillow over his head, chest expanding like he wanted to scream into it. “god, you’re a mess. get it together!”

“yeah, gale doesn’t seem like that type of guy, bucky. they were honest to god talking about work the whole time.”

it doesn’t fuckin’ matter if they were fucking. bucky wanted to say, face burning with anger. they didn’t get it- even if croz fucked gale before him, he didn’t care. he just wanted to know why the hell gale was running from him, avoiding him. he didn’t do a goddamn thing wrong to that stuck up ass blonde bitch for him to be acting like this. 

“i’m goin’ for a walk.” john muttered, tossing away the pillow and slipping on a pair of beat-up shoes that were parked by the bedside. “i’ll be back in a few.”

he slammed the door behind him, rattling the entire wall as he stormed down the hallway.

“way to go, kenny.” 

“what the hell did i do?”

—-----------------

the night was humid and sticky, the evidence that summer was indeed there trickling down his forehead as he strolled around the now-dead campus. there were stories told about this school at night, about how all kinds of things and people would creep around in the eerie darkness that settled over the old buildings. john never believed in things like that- but it didn’t make the lack of noise any less creepy. 

there was nothing. the air was still, not the slightest breeze brushing past him, not the softest rustling of leaves. the moon was nestled between dark clouds, giving a bit of pale light to the otherwise dark field he was in. he heard faint laughter and music from the frat houses he passed, head bobbing along to the steady beat of whatever shitty club music they blared. all the bright lights inside allowed for the shadows of the individuals inside to be seen in the form of pitch-black figures against the glass panes. he allowed his gaze to linger for a bit too long at the window with the silhouette of a couple making out.

briefly, he thought of gale. that should be us. his brain was practically yelling at him, nails indenting into his palms as he saw the outlines of the figures sink lower and lower until they were no longer visible. i should be fucking him right now. 

and crosby, that bastard. study buddies his ass. when was he gonna tell him? never? was he gonna have to wait until he posted a shitty black and white picture on his twitter with the caption ‘my new boyfriend’ ?

he spun on his heel roughly and headed towards the courtyard, the gentle trickling of the fountain filling his ears and making him feel a little less tense. this area was just about the only place that had some goddamn light on campus, even though they were only shitty streetlamps. 

he sat down heavily on the damp stone of the edge of the fountain, listening to the gentle flow of the water as he let his eyes close. his head was still throbbing faintly, in time with his heartbeat. this goddamned headache was the only reason he wasn’t drinking tonight. curt offered him a drink when he came back to their dorm all pissy, but he just mumbled a half-assed no and passed out in his bed for a few hours. when he came to, curt was playing with his hair idly, scrolling on his ridiculously glittery phone.

“wanna talk about it?”

and john, who didn’t have the energy to do anything but be mad at the world, just buried his face in curt’s lap, which gave the shorter man the answer he needed. 

even though curt was a brat at times, he was a good friend. john relied on him more times than he could count for a pick-me-up– which was a little shameful to admit since curt was younger than him, but goddamn, he didn’t care. they leaned on one another- always have. 

he’s been understanding about his feelings towards gale so far, and that’s all he could ask for. hell, he was probably being understanding because he hasn’t been this worked up about a guy since middle school. doesn’t even remember that bastards name, but he does remember bumming at curt’s house, eating the decadent dinner his mom cooked, ranting to him and eventually falling asleep in his bed with tear-stained cheeks. 

this was different though. he was in love with that asshole back then. he isn’t in love with gale.

love meant caring about someone, and as far as caring went, john only cared about what noises gale would make when his dick was buried deep in his guts- or what faces he made when he came, screaming john’s name. other than that, he didn’t give two shits about him or what he did in his spare time. 

his mind wandered back to the party he went to a few days ago with curt again.

he was getting a blowjob from some eager preppy girl in a cluttered bathroom, leaning on the counter and letting his head fall back, alcohol staining his breath.

she was sloppy, drooling and slobbering all over his cock as she swallowed him down her throat, moaning and groaning like it was the best thing she’s ever tasted, his precum drizzling over her tongue.

it just so happened that she was a blonde, hair tied back in a ponytail that bounced every time she bobbed her head. he couldn’t look down at her– all he could think of was gale– what he would look like on his knees, blue eyes watery and wide as he struggled to fit the length of him in his mouth.

he ended up shoving her off and mumbling some excuse about having to go. left her there, on her haunches, confused and horny.

gale was ruining him. maybe curt was right– he just needed to forget about him.

“ get the fuck away from me. ”

then, john heard a voice, a familiar one at that, drifting from the side of one of the dorm buildings. he turned to the source of the noise, only to discover it was dark, thanks to the flickering streetlamp nearby.

when it flickered back on periodically, he could vaguely see two men, heavily encompassed in the shadows of the clouds obscuring the moon.

“oh come on, didja think no one would find out about you, blondie? no real man has a pretty ass face like that,”

“what the fu–”

the sound of something dull dropping to the floor, and a small yelp from that familiar voice. god, why can’t he place it? he stood, quietly striding over into the shadows where the confrontation was taking place. now, he could hear the voices more clearly, and faintly make out the outline of two figures. one of them was buff, probably a dumbass football-laying meathead that thought he was entitled to every hot piece of ass on campus. the other was more slender, hair about shoulder-length.

“i already said no. jesus, does any guy on this campus understand the word no? ”

john froze as his brain finally registered the voice. 

gale.

“this is why trannies like you belong in a goddamn freakshow. thankfully for you, i’m willing to overlook it, jus’ because you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” the sleaze muttered, hand trailing up gale’s waist. 

“don’t touch–”

“you’re lucky. why don’t you jus’ let this happen, hm? or would you rather have the alternative?” his hand trailed lower and lower. “i tell everyone your little secret– have people lining up to beat the hell outta you.”

the larger shadow moved his hand to cup and grope at gale’s crotch. “make this easy for me, huh? go ‘head and drop these for me.”

john’s body fired on all cylinders, rushing forward to tackle the assailant, head clouded with red-hot anger, but gale beat him to the punch.

literally. 

“get the fuck– AWAY FROM ME! ”

gale’s fist collided with the jock’s cheek, making a sickening crack as he stumbled back and fell on his ass, spit and blood splattering on the concrete. it bloomed across the hard surface in a morbidly fascinating little crimson pool, just beside the jock’s feet. gale grabbed his bag and made a run for it, strands of his hair haphazardly strewn across the sharp features of his face. 

time seemed to distort in the very moment gale ran right past him, cheeks wet with tears and hands practically throttling the strap of his bag. he was trembling all over, nearly tripping over his own feet to get as far away from that asshole as possible.

he’d never seen gale with so much utter emotion on his face. it made his heart cinch and his skin crawl, as if he was being flayed. every nerve on his body felt as if it were on fire, a sudden, ceaseless need in the back of his mind to kill this bastard.

bucky turned his attention back to the jock, who was clutching his wet, mottled-purple cheek and spitting out all kinds of slurs and profanities as he staggered back to his feet.

“that stupid tranny! who the hell does she think she is? i’ll fucking–” 

“hey, asshole.”

john was seeing bright red. he doesn’t think he could have stopped himself if he wanted to. he was already approaching him, fists clenched so hard he was sure he’d have bloodied nail marks left behind when he relaxed. he didn’t give the piece of shit a chance to speak again before he was on top of him, punching at his face with a sickly wet crack crack crack.

he was spluttering out something , words drowned out by the blood from his mangled nose pooling into his mouth, and the deafening ring echoing throughout john’s ears. he was writhing something awful below him, desperate to dislodge bucky as he begged him for mercy.

“ please- ”

crack.

“ fuck– stop, i can’t– ”

crack. crack. crack.

his ceaseless squirming finally stopped, his body limp and bloody underneath the buzzing heat of john’s body. he gave a few extra punches for good measure, unable to subdue the burning anger simmering in the pit of his stomach. 

he didn’t bother to check for signs of breathing as he dislodged himself from the limp man below him, chest heaving with each labored breath. he pulled his phone from his pocket, not even fully cognizant as he dialed curt’s number, screen now smeared with wet crimson streaks.

“bucky?”

“need a favor, curtie.” he exhaled, distantly wincing at the persistent throbbing of his tender knuckles. “get the first aid kit ready. ‘m on my way back.”

----------------

taglist: @mooodyblue @lauvmyself @kaiistheguy @slowsweetlove @coastiewife465

[hiohaku]

WILD THINGS MY FRIEND BLAKE HAS SAID ONLINE ( 1 / ? )

a mix of questions, statements, etc. nsfw included. / adjust as needed

❝ i'm sorry i'm down bad for women who can keep me in a cellar ❞

❝ fuck them kids bro , punt 'em ❞

❝ damn are you a parking ticket , cause you got FINE written all over you , aha ❞

❝ i sleep on my back so i can practice for my casket ❞

❝ 'tism and titties should be the first bullet on every marriage application ❞

❝ woof woof ❞

❝ it exploded . . . i fucking took off ❞

❝ i know that shit feel like when you open your window during a carwash ❞

❝ i'd rather hit my package with a ballpeen hammer ❞

❝ no problem, forehead ❞

❝ put a leash on him ❞

❝ manifesting wet socks for the lot of ya ❞

❝ that shit sounded like a grapefruit being rung out ❞

❝ we as a society need to start calling people poindexters again ❞

❝ my brain needs food it aint got no wrinkles on it ❞

❝ thicc ❞

❝ need me some of that stuffin' ❞

❝ ONCE AGAIN I AM TIRED OF LEAVES ❞

❝ if we see a cow we moo ❞

❝ if we see a deer we say OH DEER ❞

❝ ' it's grey sweatpants season ' ma'am if i wanted to display small things i would open a jewelry store ❞

❝ violently shitting myself due to being nervous ❞

❝ where does one aquire a steed ? ❞

❝ ARF ARF ❞

❝ this that type of cold that just piss you off ❞

❝ i'm tired of this grandpa ❞

❝ i found the best stick of the year ❞

❝ i fucking hate leaves. i wish all the trees a very bald ❞

❝ this aged like milk ❞

❝ let him cook ❞

❝ with how deep i sleep i need that mf alarm clock spongebob had ❞

❝ Ghost is just spooky bon jovi ❞

❝ butter up them cheeks boy ❞

❝ is it dangerous to fall asleep at night to videos about demonology lmao ❞

❝ i am making it a personal goal today to feel bonita ❞

❝ SHOW ME THE TIT ON AN ALMOND ❞

❝ y'all better hype me up like this when i get jiggy❞

❝ two halves of a whole idiot ❞

❝ a homie needs about 3 years worth of hugs ❞

❝ i got a canoe, don't make me pull up ❞

❝ YOU THE ONE THAT'S A KNOB SMHHH ❞

❝ holy hellfire i just had to walk a plaza the size of two football fields ❞

❝ yeah i ugly cried ❞

❝ girl dinner honestly ❞

❝ here lies [ name ] ' s hopes and dreams ❞

❝ i'm being held hostage ❞

❝ [ name ] don't even start the top of your head probably flat ❞

❝ my brother in Buddha LEAVE THE PREMISES ❞

[carlybenson69]

My highlights of iCarly revival S3

I'm a yellowbelt uwu

...but sandwich :C

the entire sandwich deal really

Did you have an extra Capri Sun today? >:c

CULT OF SPAPA

Maybe someday, I'll be a Benson too 🥹

Spencer in his Rum Tum Tugger fit slowly sliding the vase off the countER—that killed me, you don't even know

✨rejection✨ look it up, ya dumb whore

the parallel knee buckles !!!!

the entirety of episode 3 (do i even have to say it?)

bE QuiEt~ bLeH

can I just say, we turned out HOT

💖f-train and camgirl💖

my favorite number is 69 bc it looks like a yinyang 😭

it's like a powerpoint in the sky!! <3

no it's not! :)

i left the purse YEARS ago! (winner for most underrated joke)

Freddie covering Carly's eyes when the lighthouse started to ~throb~

Freddie's little smile-sigh after "I love you, Freddie Benson" (little baby boy benson did it everyone !!!)

you know i like em short and nerdy (that's not the truth, carly but i'm going to let this go for the sake of the gem that was "gReEtiNGs fELLoW huMaNs" and Carly going: 😍)

YIPPEE KAY YAY FREDDIE'S MOTHER

Yeah, put deepfake Carly on and lemme see if I can tell them apart 😏👅 (that delivery was so suggestive for no reason, nathan!! grr woof woof woof)

Why are there so many maternity books...? *NEVER-ENDING SCREAMING*

freddie doing his little stretches in a tank top I— 🥵

I'M GONNA BE A GRANDFATHER <3

I may be childless but I'm still cool 🦘🦘🦘

Freddie every time he thinks Carly's pregnant: 🥺😍

we were at the altar and she looked...beautiful (THAT DELIVERY WAS BEAUTIFUL)

freddie quickly diving in to kiss carly after "want me to blow up the venue again?" 🫠

tbh that whole "want to talk about the not good stuff?" killed me dead.

[sunnydayroleplay]

Aight bestie.

Joseph fucking MC in Jack's costume.

The rest is up to you, go wild bestie lol

IHJFEVWHHJ RFWIN I AM BARKING BESTIE WOOF WOOF WE'RE WRITING IT This fic includes: Sending nudes, again, lots of potty mouth from the Sunny-Time Crew (OOC), Definite size difference, Make-Out Sess, Praise, Use of: Sunshine/Sunspot, Darling, Baby, Honey. You were at work, Joseph was at work. It was quite lonely for the both of you, and you had the most splendid idea. You went into the employee backroom, break-room, whatever you like to call it, and you went ahead to grab your phone from your back pant pocket. You open up your messages between you and Joseph . You thought "Fuck it, I'm bored" and you sent him a photo of your beautiful self. Without some articles of clothing. You send it. Waiting for Joseph to reply. Now in Joseph's point of view, they had just finished recording another episode, and he was still in costume. He was scrolling on his phone, his co-workers and other members of the Sunny-Time Crew we're having a blast, all of them with a lit cigarette in his hand. Joseph leaned against their table, his jaw flew open, as his face began turning a little red. Everyone seems to take notice, and asks some questions. Joseph flung his head around, turning off his phone, and shoving it in his pocket. "Hey now Joey, you alright?"

"Yeah! I'm fine. Sorry." "My, my. One of them mommas send you a pic of their machinery?"

"Wh-what! No, I don't even know how they would ge-"

"Joe, a man don't get no flustered by lookin' at theys phone to say it was nothin'."

"But I-"

"And I refuse to believe you actually have a nice guy or gal waitin' at home for ya."

"Hey now darlin', you never know what kinda fella Joseph can reel in his rod."

"Yeah, it's not like he ain't fine. We all wouldn't have any jobs if that was the case."

"Don't back-track now, Mister! I still wanna know what or who made our little baby-man so flustered n' mustered up!"

"It's nothin' you guys. Listen I'll be back, I gotta make a phone call."

"Aww shiiiiit! Finally our lil' Jojo got sent some gears and bolts of one of those fine baby mommas! Joseph does have some fine ma'am or sir waitn' for him!~ Look at him go, he's doin' his speedwalk! Now yer know he's rushin' to reply!"

"Well call me cloudy with a heavy chance of rain, I never knew our Joey could do such a thang....Now who do you think it is?"

"Mrs. Stephens! She's always grindin' her heel every chance she gets! And Joey gives her plenty of 'em."

While the crew chatted away under the presumption that Joseph found a wonderful mother to bless, Joseph hid away in a rest-room, locking the door behind him. He pulled out his phone to inspect the image you had sent him closely, and he was not disappointed. Boy, he had to get home, and he had to get home now. He rushed out, swiftly grabbing his one bag, wallet and keys. Not even bothering to get out of costume. "H-Hey! Joe, what are ya doin?"

"I'll be back tomorrow."

"But th-, ne-nevermind, just bring it back clean." "Go Joe! Get that baby-makin' pussy!" And with that, he was gone. He hopped into his car, and made his way to speed over to you. By then you were already home, finally someone wanted to do their shift, if not on time. You were sitting comfortably in your room, scrolling on your phone, where you heard a few foot-steps from outside it. "Joseph! I didn't except ya to come home so early!"

You heard large thumps come by your room and open the door, shutting it behind. He makes his way in a primary color fashion, prancing on top of you. The bed sinks, and you suddenly feel very small with this very big man on top of you. He leans down to kiss your soft lips. You slowly try to sit up, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, Your hands in that blue, surprisingly soft hair of his. You wonder why he came home in that, but hey, questions, not complaints. The two of you passionately kiss, Joseph's hands slowly trickle down your body as you kiss this clown-looking man, Smudging make up as you passionately make out. My, it was something. "C'mon honey, I'll make sure you have a sunny-time~" He glares into your reflective eyes, as his hands interlock with yours, and he slowly begins to unbuckle his smiling belt. He throws it on the floor, along with those dark colored pants of his. He goes back on top of you once more, you grind onto his clothed cock, your face reddening as you bite your tongue. "Settle down, sunshine, we'll get there in a moment~" "But I want to get there now~" You whine. You begin to wrap your legs around his sides, your feet resting on his back. He picks you up by gripping your outer thighs, and pulls you in much closer. You can feel how hard his cock is, because it's so close to where yours is.

"Sunspot~ Like I said, we'll get there in a moment~ I gotta treat that nice and beautiful body of yours right after-all~!" He giggles, slowly taking off your shirt, as he flings it across the room, leaning down to kiss your stomach, all the way to your jawline. You pull on his hair, yank it off and throw it away along with all the other costume pieces. Oh, the make-up department is gonna kick his ass when he comes back in later. But it'll all be worth it. "You tease me too much~" You quietly moan out. His soft normal colored hair blooms back out, as you mess it up the slightest.

"Darling, I may tease you, but you enjoy it~" After successfully taking off all your clothes, then and only then does he take off his boxers. His fully erect cock springing back into action.

"You ready, baby?~"

You gently cusp his face with both of your hands, kissing his forehead. "Will you stop askin' questions and just put your dick inside me already?" "Alright, I ain't gon' be gentle." After you had your fun, even though you both maybe failed the goal of "fuckin' till daylight". Ya still had fun. It was the next day, Joseph came in, looking like he was attacked. He wasn't joking when he said that it wasn't going to be gentle. My his hair was in a wreck, his neck, collarbones and shoulders covered in hickeys and scratches. Smudged make-up smearing off from his lips. Yeah his co-workers would ask him non-stop who fucked him, and the department is going to beat the living hell out of him, my my was it all worth it.

[alexanderflowerbird]

DAY 22

Hey! I'm alive! I'm here! And I'm writing! Haha! Woof, my real life has been an interesting blur of work, sister time, friend time, caring for my polycule, husband time, ARCANE, and of course, writing. I have excellent news to report-- my goal for the month was to produce 30K words and GUESS WHAT. YA BOI HAS DONE IT. Even more than that, cuz of COURSE I'm gonna keep going. The writing group had a sprint night where many of us got together to do sprints, and I got so many little scenes done that I'm very excited about lol I got gators that jump like flying fish, I got the Seneca Beast being a fucking nightmare and nuisance, I got Dolcezza and Malachi finally kissing and admitting they like each other [Dolcezza says like, Malachi is so down bad it makes him look stupid lol poor guy he's such a romantic], I got all kinds of shit outta the sprints! My husband also helped me with a situation for the book I'm writing where Malachi and Dolcezza get stranded for a minute due to a car malfunction, and since Harrowben is a Car Gay, they were ready to help me, which resulted in me having a Husband Insert character lmao his name is Ben, he rides a motorcycle, he helps people fix their cars, he razzes Dolcezza for not having a work log for his truck, it's very fun.

I don't think I could have accomplished this much without having a group of people that inspire and encourage me, having a writing group fucking rules tbh. And we're doing a gas up call for me on Wednesday were I get to sit and listen to people bark about the fact that I keep writing emotionally charged stories and scenes that make them wanna scream cry throw up lol I'm SO excited. The gas up calls I've been a part of where I'm on the support side have been so fun and I think taking a break to tumble someone else's concept, to come up with ideas with them, to ask questions about their stories, it's a very good way to reinvigorate your own story/writing brain! Hmmm... I don't think I have anything else exciting to report. I'm just a very busy man lol, I make plans with everyone all the time, and I am not tired, or ungrateful for all the love and attention I receive, or how deeply I am valued in my communities, but man it sure is hard to journal when you're running full sprint and breaking the sound barrier to get all of your shit done lmao. But I'm back on it! Lovely to talk with you again. Today's excerpt is a pre-husband-insert moment between Malachi and Dolcezza while they're waiting for Ben to show up, watching a pair of tortoise-deer creatures battle each other and talking about philosophy. I made Dolcezza a Sagittarius because I can and it makes me laugh lol Taglist: @theskeletonprior @tragedycoded @badscientist @thelittlestspider If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please interact with this post

“Looks like your spark plug is busted…” Malachi says from within the car hood. 

“Ah, damn it all.” Dolcezza groans, sighing and tipping his head back before he goes around the truck to dig around in a large duffle bag Malachi only knows contains some first aid supplies and the flare gun. He produces that and continues digging, checking the canisters for the gun before selecting one with another belabored sigh. 

“Ben’s gonna have my ass.” He says to himself as he moves off the road and into the lush, mossy grass, putting several feet between himself, Malachi and the truck. He raises the gun and fires, the flare producing a comet of black smoke that is oddly ominous for an issue as trivial as spark plugs being shot. Though… Malachi thinks of all the cars abandoned in the wilderness, reclaimed by the land. Perhaps something like this is the sort of life or death situation that calls for a flare that blots the blue of the sky with pitch black. 

“We in some trouble?” Malachi asks cautiously, watching the black smoke disperse. Dolcezza follows his look and huffs a laugh. 

“Oh, no honey. I’m in trouble, but not you. Our travel mechanic just likes black, ah, goth I think they call the style. Town uses red for trouble, yellow for new folks found, blue for new resources. Benji just likes black is all. Shouldn’t be long, they ride a bike like a bat outta hell.” Dolcezza says, returning to the truck to put the flare gun back where it belongs. Malachi hums, coming around the truck to stand next to Dolcezza where he’s leaned his hip against it to light up a cigarette. 

“Is that why there’s so many cars with their hoods opened up?” He asks and Dolcezza hums around his smoke to affirm Malachi’s observation. 

“Makes it easy to tell which ones have been gone through for parts. Ben’s the sort of guy who would know by looking which one’s he’s touched, but they keep the hoods popped for the rest of us that might know what to do with our cars and want to go hunting for bits ourselves.” Malachi knows how to change spark plugs, it’s easy work, but as he looks around them all the cars in sight have been opened up and scavenged. Nothing to do but wait then. Dolcezza offers him his cigarette. Malachi takes it, breathes in the smoke, thinking about Dolcezza’s lips for just an indulgent moment before offering it back. There’s a comfortable silence between them, especially when a pair of tortoises have wandered from behind some of the cars, spotting each other at a distance. They are altered by the territory like anything else have, made strange in that they have long, jagged antlers protruding from their wrinkled heads and their shells are covered with fur the way a water turtle might get grown over with algae. The fur is raised like hackles as they stomp towards each other, making good time for tortoises. They meet and clash their antlers together with clacking that Malachi and Dolcezza can hear from where they stand, battling with slow and determined swings of their long necks. One of them catches the other in the shell and flinging its head back, some of that earthy brown fur goes flying. Malachi and Dolcezza wince in tandem, Malachi softly saying ‘oof’ while Dolcezza whistles. 

“It’s always like this, isn’t it?” Malachi asks, glancing Dolcezza’s way. 

“Sure. It’s always changing, but it’s always like this, yeah.” Dolcezza confirms, eyes still focused on the tortoises and their struggle. “Sometimes it’s worse than this, sometimes it’s better, just like anywhere else I suppose. People make a real fuss outside the territory, ‘specially with how odd the Tennessee Void is, but my heart goes out to people that way. It’s not so bad here… the changing is the worst part, of course. Ain’t nothing comparable to it in this world, I don’t think, not that we know as people.” Dolcezza sighs and looks Malachi’s way.

 “I’ve seen a lot of shit, helpin’ people out here, cartin’ around scientists and shit. Nature don’t got no qualms about killin’ and eatin’. With a lot of things, that’s the whole point of bein’ here. Fuckin’, fightin’, feastin’. Don’t know how we got to thinkin’ we’re different and separate, but it’s what makes us I think… we don’t kill and eat things we love, try not to, anyway, build the whole world round trying not to. But it’s natural.” Dolcezza laughs softly at the way Malachi is looking at him. His stupid fucking face is doing what it does always, admitting his fascination, revealing that he’s captive to Dolcezza’s handsome mouth and the words coming out.  

“Philosophical, I know it. I can go on an’ on, I’ll tell ya that. Some sweet girl I caught up a few months ago told me it’s cuz I’m a Sagittarius, whatever the hell that means. Somethin’ in the stars- she told me all about it but just now I can’t tell it to you again. Don’t know what the stars got to do with us… this, all this here? It’s got to do with us, to be sure.” He gestures around them. 

“Yeah… I get what you mean. We’re not in the stars, we’re here, in nature.” Malachi answers back, and Dolcezza smiles, beautiful, pleased to be understood. 

“‘Xactly.”

[puer-aurea]

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

Crack for Big Dogs!! (mentions of the roomies and heart foundation) "If he's big enough to shake your hand is that still a spider? Or is it a dog?" Mercenary AU (going to attempt aus for the rest of them as well)

This is not how the night was supposed to go. Martyn and Jimmy picked up this offer to make some quick cash, not be chased around by big- spider things. All the job request mentioned was they would be herding sheep. And the guy who hired him, some Etho guy, only warned them that a zombie person may come check on them occasionally and an avian might land in the pen and scare the sheep again, but he said it would be relatively mundane! There was no mention of spiders or monsters or anything of the sort! So why in Notch's name were they running from a cluster of spiders? Why couldn't they at least be normal sized spiders? "Jimmy, I am quitting this job after. Humans are not made for mercenary work." Martyn complained. "No- you can't say that! We're a team, we're the big dogs! Woof!" Jimmy barked out. "Do you see how big those spiders are??" "Well, are they even spiders?" Jimmy put his hand to his face in a thinking motion. "What are you on?" Martyn picked up a rather large stone and looked it over. "I mean- if he's big enough to shake your hand, is that still a spider? Or is it a dog?" "I- you- Okay. I can't do this today." Martyn sighed. "Just hang on!" Jimmy walked out of their little hiding place behind the tree, looking for the spiders. He picked up a stick off the ground and yelled for them, waving it in the air. "Here boy- boys? Here boys! Want a stick? Wanna fetch?" Jimmy held his breath as the spiders watched him wave it around. When they didn't come running straight for him, he threw it as far as he could in the direction opposite the sheep pen, which conveniently meant down a hill. To Martyn's relief, and shock, they ran after it. "Jimmy, you mad man! How did you think of that?" Martyn asked as he came out of the hiding spot. "Ya know. I'm not sure. But we have to get back to that Etho guy's property so we can finish getting the sheep." Jimmy turned and headed towards the pen, wiping his hands nervously on his pants. Martyn nodded, still kind of shocked, and threw the stone he was holding in the same direction of the stick before following Jimmy. When they got back to the pen, they assumed the mentioned avian had not landed and scared the sheep because the ones they had already collected were still in the pen. They picked up the previously discarded hay and went to herd the rest of the sheep. "Now that the spiders are gone, what were you saying before?" Jimmy picked up their old conversation. "Oh, yeah. So I told them I liked the idea they had and would be delighted to check out a new coffee shop. I also added they could include a request board for people to post jobs for mercenaries." "You said this story had a tragic ending...?" Jimmy gave Martyn a confused look as they herded the last sheep into the pen. "It does-" Martyn shut the pen- "Just let me finish. Anyway, it was apparently rude of me to pitch in to their conversation even though I agreed with them." "Implying you were eavesdropping on them?" Jimmy raised his eyebrow. "That's not important. And, on an unrelated note, the master key I made to the Heart Foundation building was confiscated. That's the tragic ending." "Wait- so you weren't even supposed to be in there? You broke in??" "That's not important! Plus, the sleeveless dude wasn't even that mad, he was just kind of astonished." Martyn shrugged. "The sleeveless- you mean Skizzle? The owner of the building?? You're lucky he didn't call a bounty hunter on you! I swear if I see a wanted poster on one of the mercenary job boards for you, I will take it myself." Jimmy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sure you will! Let's just go turn this in and get our reward." Martyn let out a chuckle.