#vice president prick

[radioprinz]

Darius being himself ♥

[blissfullsvn]

between the lines

pairing. academic rival!taesan x reader genre. fluff word count. 1.3k warnings. reader is sick, reader calls taesan a prick, he is kinda a prick (but fluff triumphs all 🙏) a/n. it's necessary for their dynamic but no actual rivalry is emphasized here... (for my fellow academic rivals-to-lovers enthusiasts... ill cook up sth soon) pt.2 | masterlist

taesan is flustered.

you and taesan had never really had an amicable relationship. to put it into perspective, you'd rather spend hours editing the mess of a report your equally-messy groupmates wrote, than spend hours working together with han taesan—the student well-known for submitting flawless and only flawless pieces of work.

it wasn't always like this. of course it wasn't. who in their right mind would prefer to add 'babysitting adults' onto their plate that's already filled to the brim, instead of making their life easier by grouping with an academic weapon?

but working with han taesan is not for everyone.

actually, scratch that. working with han taesan is not for you.

you don't know what you did, but you're almost 100% sure he has a personal vendetta against you. for such a pretty face, his mouth only spits out the nastiest of things, at least to you.

actually, scratch that again. han taesan only does that to you.

because you shared all the core modules with him, you had foolishly decided to group up with him for all the assignments you had in your first semester of university. to put it simply, that was probably the worst decision you’d made in your life.

why? for every idea you gave, he'd step over with another. for every suggestion you offered, he'd pinpoint every aspect to shut it down. sure, he may have had better ideas, but you didn't think it was necessary to stomp at your input so readily. you definitely didn't think it was necessary to smirk like he'd won a battle after every instance.

you thought you'd be able to escape his belittling remarks and irritating smugness after that one semester, but why did he have to share the same plans as you as well? the day you stepped into the student council office and saw him sitting in the seat next to yours, you already felt dread clawing at you.

fast forward to the present, you're both running for student president for the next year. you had already lost the role of vice president to him this year, so you're determined to not let him pick at you again. not that he could even if he wanted to, because you practically transform into an iron shield whenever he enters your vision (which is more times than you'd liked, considering you share the same environment with him everywhere. he seems to enjoy this, though).

you've been preparing diligently for your student president pitch, but that's also on top of having 5 tight assignment deadlines and planning the biannual festival happening in the next month. for the past weeks, the student council office had turned into your place to work, eat, and even sleep, though the last was never intentional.

today, again, you're sitting at your desk, your laptop opened in front of you, but it’s unlike usual—a cup of hot-turned-lukewarm tea next to you, a pile of tissues scattered around the table, an oversized hoodie draped over your frame, your sniffles echoing across the empty room, and your body which felt heavier than usual.

you've tried your hardest fighting the urge to fall asleep, the dimness of the room not helping, but when the clock struck 3, you decide to give yourself mercy and lean forward, resting your head on your arms over the table. it's far from comfortable; your back is aching, your neck is sore, your nose is uncooperative, and the screech of the door is hurting your head.

you open your eyes briefly at the intruder by the door. they're frozen for a beat, as if surprised to see you there, then they’re tilting their head in what seems to be confusion. soon, they're taking small steps towards you. you should be alarmed, but your defenses have shut down from the fatigue, so all you can think is that if you die, you hope you die a climactic death.

the intruder, thankfully, does not appear to have any intent of killing you. they are, however, intent on disturbing you.

“y/n?” there's a soft tap on your shoulder. you squint, trying to decipher the blurry face in front of you before deciding against it. your act of protest comes out as a small whine that unintentionally escapes the back of your dry throat.

the figure stands there in shock, hand hovering your back. they blink a few times, as if trying to register what they just heard, before they decide to squat next to you, patting your shoulder again.

“y/n? don't sleep here.” the voice is familiar, but uncharacteristically soft. and fond. why is it fond?

you open your eyes again. seeing han taesan mere inches away from your face is something you'd never expect, but you're too tired to even be shocked. instead, you blink slowly, as if you're a newborn reacting to stimuli you've never experienced before.

“han taesan,” you mumble against your arm. your voice comes out nasally from your cold and as a result, more whiny than usual.

“y–yes?” he ignores the stutter and moves his hand to brush away the strands of hair covering your face. it comes so naturally that he freezes when he realises and quickly pulls his hand back to himself.

“prick.” you shut your eyes as you say this, missing the widening of his eyes. “annoying.”

he frowns, “i'm annoying?”

“very.” you don't miss a beat to reply. “why do i have to see you everywhere . . . .” you trail off, your voice decreasing in volume as you speak.

taesan is silent for a few moments, during which the only sounds that can be heard are the tick-tock of the clock and the whirs of the air conditioner. he takes one glance at your hoodie and the tissues around you before promptly turning off the AC.

“fine,” he huffs as he stands up. “i’ll be annoying for a bit more.” he taps your shoulder again. “go home. you can't sleep here. it's so late.”

the deprivation of sleep is getting to you, because your immediate response to him is to let out another whine that would immediately shatter your image of the cool senior and president-to-be if anyone heard you.

which, of course, brings us back to the first line.

taesan is flustered.

he's never seen you this… babyish before. ever since the first semester, all you would entertain him with were glares, furrowed eyebrows, and the occasional roll of your eyes if you were really salty. you had never been this defenseless around him, to which he feels something tug at his chest.

he stretches his lips into a line and squats down again. “what do you want me to do then?” his voice is soft. too soft. “i’m not letting you sleep overnight here.”

you slowly open your eyes, sniffling as you look at him in disbelief. “if you're not willing to carry me home, just go.” you shut your eyes again.

it's silent once again. at this, you dig your face deeper into your arms, having zero expectations. you furrow your eyebrows slightly when you hear shuffles above you, followed by the clash of stationeries, the crackle of the plastic bag used as your trash bin, the sudden cease of the whirring of your laptop fan, and finally the sound of a zipper.

you open your eyes in time to see taesan cupping your face in one hand and pulling your arm with the other to make you sit up. you let yourself be handled without evident resistance, though your confusion is blatant. once he sees that you're up, he quickly squats down in front of you, back facing you.

“climb up. this annoying prick will carry you home.”

a/n. this may or may not be insanely self-indulgent due to a cold i may or may not have. i also may or may not have thoughts about a pt. 2. (edit: pt. 2 is out!)

anw, first post! just fitting for it to be about han taesan bcs this man (read: bnd as a whole) has been living in my brain for the past month (case in point: me literally writing this note at 3am when my headache is killing me).

i hope this was as enjoyable to read as it was for me to write <3

© blissfullsvn 2024. All Rights Reserved.

[loveephia]

:¨ ·.· ¨: atsumu miya's valentine special.

`· . ꔫ sypnosis: in which you wanted to confess to atsumu, but as the school's beloved vice president, you've been too busy helping out with the limited valentine's day events. because of how often you were pulled away from atsumu, he decides to entertain his fangirls to try and make you jealous

content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, hurt with comfort, osamu is in two clubs (volleyball and culinary), kita is mentioned, reader has glasses, you cry because of atsumu, but don't worry, he calms you down toward the end.

⚠ warning/s: atsumu being atsumu none.

my HQ masterlist. (valentine's edition)

"hello, ms. vice president. yer lookin' prettier than usual today. did ya do somethin' with your hair? you smell like a meadow." atsumu teased you non-stop. you were one (if not, the only) girl he'd stop by to bother during school hours. you don't even know if he truly means his teasing or if he's just messing with you.

whatever it is, it worked because you silently crushed on the faux blond.

"cut it out, miya. i'm trying to sign a few papers of allowances for the upcoming valentine's event." you stated sternly, making sure to emphasize the miya. you knew how much he disliked being called that, especially from you. "still on the last name basis?! i have a twin brother who's also named miya, y'know! how'll you call us if we're both present?" atsumu whined.

you thought for a moment, "i'll call you 'the-more-annoying-miya.'"

"no way, call me 'the-hotter-miya' instead! it's got a better ring to it." atsumu winked

"you and osamu have the same face." you factually deadpanned. "wait—! yer callin' 'samu by his first name but not me?!" atsumu said at a loud volume, taking no notice of the rest of your statement.

"whatever.. i have to go now." you said, slipping away from atsumu to head to the afternoon student council meetings.

valentine's is coming, meaning a lot of booths, a lot of food, and potentially, a lot of heartbreak. you can't even imagine the headache atsumu will be by then.

sure you had a crush on him, but he could be a bit of an annoyance sometimes.

time skip.

the meeting came to an end, and you huffed. you skim over your clipboard to see the busy schedule ahead of you.

1. help the botany club sell roses.

maybe one of those roses have a thorn magical enough to prick your finger and put you into a deep sleep until valentines is over; kinda like sleeping beauty with a few details changed.

2. deliver the anonymous love letters.

at this point, all the enveloped confessions should just go straight to the miyas. those two always end up getting the most every year anyway.

3. give each and every schoolmate a pouch of specially made chocolates from the culinary club.

you only like this one because you were told that you get to keep the leftovers.

"hey, ms. vice president!" atsumu greets you with the familiar nickname he specially made. you look up to see the setter, and your eyes widen. "miya.. it's late in the afternoon. what are you still doing in school? i don't think you guys even have volleyball practice today." you said.

"yeah, i know, but i wanted t'walk you home! i didn't know that the meeting would last up to two hours, though." atsumu said, "still, it was time worth waitin'." he smirked at you.

disregarding the flirty comment, your heart swelled at the fact that he was thoughtful enough to wait and walk you home. you smiled softly, "thank you for being so considerate. just let me get my bag, and we can get going."

atsumu was expecting you to roll your eyes or even sigh restlessly, but to his surprise, you didn't.

"okay." he replied quietly, watching you go jog to your own classroom. atsumu sighed longingly.

osamu, who unwillingly witnessed the scene before him, could only cringe. "why is he still at school?" one may ask. he couldn't go home because his older twin of three and a half minutes was entrusted with the keys to the house. atsumu also refused to let him go by himself due to stubbornness.

"i hate it here." osamu murmured.

time skip.

on the walk home with the twins, you all shared your day almost peacefully (not without the twins bickering every now and then, of course). you didn't even realize osamu was there earlier outside the meeting room..

the sun had set, and you were finally at the foot of your house. osamu was standing by your house's gate while atsumu was right next to you. "i'll see ya tomorrow, ms. vice president." he said, patting your head and messing up your hair.

you let it slide since it's the end of the day anyway. you lean close to kiss his cheek, "thanks, atsumu." you quickly expressed your gratitude before going inside your house, leaving atsumu to malfunction outside.

"did— did she just call me by my first name?!" he thought, puffs of smoke cartoonishly coming off the top of his head. his fingers came in contact with his blazing cheek, the cheek that you kissed.

finally going back home with osamu, atsumu couldn't think straight. he even fumbled with the keys to simply unlock their door. the younger twin who's too tired to deal with atsumu's behavior, takes the keys, and unlocks the door himself.

time skip.

valentine's day was here, and your feet were aching from the number of times you had to run up and down the stairs to help out with booths.

the duties of being inarizaki's virtuous vice president were ample. every year, it truly never gets easier. but you enjoy seeing the satisfied expression on your schoolmate's faces from your helpfulness, so you'll continue to run for a spot on the student council if it means—

"y/n!" atsumu calls out. you turn around to see the boy. just as you were about to come up to him to say hi, a female voice cuts you off. "y/n! the president is looking for you, he says it's urgent." your classmate said. you nod, excusing yourself from atsumu's sight to see what the matter is.

atsumu understands. you're a busy girl, so he lets it slide.

until the fourth time, that is.

"y/n, can you please help me carry these boxes of flowers to class 2-E?" the head of the botany club sweatdropped. you nod, helping him out.

"y/n, my adorable underclassmen, would you be a dear and send this to kita shinsuke from class 3-A?" the student council treasurer asks playfully, "i don't want him to know it's from me~" she whispers with red cheeks. you nod, running off to the third year's classroom.

"y/n, can you head to the kitchen with me? we made a new variety of chocolates, and we need your thoughts." osamu said, a sheet of sweat glistening on his forehead from the heat in the kitchen. you nod, "of course, osamu."

atsumu can't believe this.. his own brother?!

"y/n this, y/n that. i just wanna be with her on valentines!" atsumu grumbles, kicking a pebble on the ground, feeling like a defeated puppy.

"excuse me, atsumu?" a hesitant voice disrupts atsumu of his thoughts. "t- this is for you." she bravely hands him a letter. this is the seventg time today that he's received a confession. un-anonymously, that is.

"thanks." atsumu mumbles half-heartedly, though he knows he won't read it.

wait.

this just gave him a brilliant idea.

time skip.

you finished your duties. everything is going great; sales are booming for the botany club, all of the love letters have been delivered, and you even got a few leftover chocolates.

you're off to find atsumu, excited to see him.

only to see the one and only setter surrounded by plenty of fangirls.

"can i have a selfie, atsumu?" a girl asks. "sure, darlin'." atsumu replies. did he just call her by a pet name? and, more importantly, is he actually entertaining his fangirls? this is odd..

your heart starts to feel heavy, and before you know it, atsumu eyes land on you. just one look, and he's forgotten all about his fangirls. "y/n!" he exclaims.

atsumu is so happy to finally see you unoccupied.

then he sees your nose tint a shade of red and your eyes all glassy.

you run off in a weak attempt to hide your tears, and atsumu is quick to run after you. "no— wait, y/n!"

you keep running until you reach a more deserted spot in inarizaki high. you're not athletic. your legs were sure to give out soon, especially when the one chasing after you is a part of a volleyball club.

you try not to sob aloud, very hurt by atsumu's actions. you don't even turn to look at him, and he knows he messed up big time. you sniffle your nose, and atsumu pulls you in for a warm hug. you let him pat your back and hush you quietly.

"..m'sorry. i was actin' like a jerk all because i didn't get to talk to you the entire day." atsumu apologized, "i know my words aren't gonna cut it, but i want t'make it up to you because.." he reaches for both your hands. "i really, really like you."

your breathing is choppy, "d- do you mean that?" you look up at him. your glasses were foggy, and your red cheeks stained with tears. hair a bit disheveled from the run. atsumu smiles at you, "there's my pretty vice president." he says before pressing a kiss to your forehead, "i do." he confirms your earlier question.

you giggle at yourself for falling for a dumbass like atsumu. how silly. "i- i like you too." you stuttered quietly between your sobs.

© lowercase intended | loveephia

[universallydestinytaco]

“Pursuit of Happiness” (ONE SHOT)

🔥🔥🔥🔥🎉🎉🎉🎉 🤩🤩🤩🤩 WAKE UP BABE NEW AU DROPPED!!!

So basically what if it was Mr. President except in Jimble’s place it’s Charlie who is the much-maligned and unpopular US President in this show’s universe so when he calls Smiling Friends for a solution he meets his old College roomie Pim who actively tries to improve his reputation and after some wacky hijinks, Charlie gets hit with a realization or two.

Charlie thought of his life as a rags-to-riches story of sorts, it felt like yesterday he was in his crummy studio apartment on his gamer PC, next thing he knew he was elected President of the United States of America after a successful if not eccentric campaign promising a future in the hands of a less out of touch old rich man and instead on a young fresh face who really knew what the people wanted, even being nicknamed “King Dompler” amongst the 20-something voters he greatly appealed to….too bad there was just one teensy problem: Charlie never really studied in politics or law, so he never really had an experience in governing a population of people, but the people never thought much of it at first. “What could possibly go wrong?”, indeed!

While his Inauguration was initially a roaring success that felt more like a wild teen party than a formal event with guests chanting “King Dompler” in his honor, it seemed a bad omen reared its ugly held once the beloved former President was rushed to the hospital from food poisoning and passed away the next day. Charlie payed his respects where they were due, but didn’t think that one moment was a foreshadowing of the next four years, right?

During his first day in office he passed everyone of his voters a free vape kit as a “thank you”, only to be widely condemned by many anti-smoking campaigns and his less-than graceful and mature response by flipping them the bird on social media did nothing to quell it, then he’d realize too soon that his choice of letting his buddy Jombo be Vice President was a huge mistake because while he was away during Vacation not only did Jombo raise hell he straight up flew out of the state and pinned the whole thing on Charlie! Charlie tried to make it up to the people with his attempt at improving the economy with the proposal in the form of a rousing speech that ignited initial hype only for his deed to go down in flames alongside the stock market. As if that wasn’t enough bad press many where sorely disappointed he didn’t bother having the White House decorated for the annual Christmas Party where the press expected an orient display with a huge Christmas tree only to be met with just a single stubby branch with one ornament hanging from the top….but that was just the icing on the cake! Charlie’s slovenly, drunken display was seen as outrageously disrespectful to the rest of the world leaders he invited and the overall representation of his own country. Within an entire year Charlie went from being seen as the mascot of a perfect future for the US to a universally-loathed laughingstock and an embarrassment to the nation to the point where his girlfriend-turn-First Lady, Zoey, publicly broke up with him while furiously spitting out how she wound up saddled with an utterly inconsiderate and buffoonish prick in the first place, needless to say that event sure had the internet spamming emojis of laughing faces at the President’s expense. To add insult to injury, Dj Spitz who once endorsed President Charlie, dropped a topical diss-track titled “King Dork” as a mean-spirited play on his initial nickname.

One morning Charlie sighed, reminiscing his carefree 20s while signing papers as he heard a jeering crowd outside the Oval Office flinging compost at the windows and holding up signs that read: “King Dork” and “F**ck Dompler”, not even bothering to ask security to shoo them away, he just wanted to save face by telling everyone that this was all just an elaborate joke and go back to his normal life, but then his inner-Alpha Male chewed him out like a yelling drill sergeant nagging him in his mind to not give up like a coward and to prove himself as a worthy leader….but how? After he called a little company called “Smiling Friends”, a helicopter flew in to the court yard where out came a familiar face Charlie hadn’t seen in years: a little pink man in a sharp suit being escorted by security into the White House.

“Pim, is that you?!”

Pim immediately ran into Charlie with his arms wide for hugging, gushing about how proud he was his best friend was given the esteemed privilege of serving an entire nation (even if he was only serving mistake after mistake), Charlie didn’t feel like explaining how it went at the moment, he just wanted to take his mind off things. First he gave Pim a tour of the White House and all the splendor of the interior. Pim happily infodumped about his knowledge on US history and politics while naming who’s-who on the portraits of important figures on the wall and going into detail their roles in shaping America. Charlie even felt inspired by the stories of once unpopular presidents that restored their good image by the amazing deeds they performed….that was when Charlie remember the exact reason why he called Smiling Friends in the first place! He invited Pim to dinner to recap in-depth the whole of his disastrous first year in office, that was when Pim channeled his inner quirky cartoon character by snapping his fingers and proposing a couple solutions that could fix everything! Yaaay! :D

Charlie went with the first plan: hiring a team to transplant trees in places that needed some greenery, he picked out a breed that produced tasty-looking fruit that resembled apples, but it was discovered too late those weren’t apples but highly toxic, spore-bearing pods meant for weeding out other species. Okay that was a bust to say the least. The next suggestion involved pouring thousands of dollars to a promising charity helping the poor but right after the generous donation was dolled out the charity turned out to have been an elaborate scam by a dangerous criminal who used up the money for an entire supervillain lair full of weapons to terrorize the public with, happily announcing his ruse and thanking President Charlie Dompler for being oh-so naive enough to fall into his trap. The third suggestion? Well, Pim was still trying to think about it.

While the boys where back to the metaphorical drawing board, Pim was enjoying himself in the White House garden, Charlie couldn’t help but feel his heart melt feeling the presence of his cheerful, innocent friend gushing over the flowers and the bugs that populated the area, suddenly Charlie didn’t feel like he was in Washington anymore, but he was back in Pennsylvania at a park where he felt the energy to join Pim in basking in the springtime atmosphere, allergies be damned.

….

The next day, Pim and President Charlie flew out of Washington and back to Pennsylvania for a day away from the hustle-and-bustle of the capitol and even then Charlie still had to put up with the mockery and rude comments from the public, which he didn’t really care for at this point since he was already desensitized from the trolls who bullied him online 24/7. The boy payed a visit to Daveland and visited all the rides and attractions there, while sitting at a park bench enjoying the snacks they bought, Pim initiated had a fun conversation about all the times they spent together in College and the brief stint at their old jobs at, you guessed it, Salty’s! Charlie felt he was truly back at home, like he was lucky enough to get his hands on a time travel device and go back to a much happier time in his life with his incredibly sweet and supportive friend who stood by him every step of the way.

President Charlie then had a strong, heavy-hearted epiphany: That he never wanted to actually be the President to begin with. As you see, he got super drunk at a New Years party, then he climbed up on top of the DJ’s turntable set and went on a boastful speech about how he was going to be the common everyday man who would run for President against all odds and serving his fellow common folk, and while the speech wasn’t the most coherent and the grammar was messy, the proposal was delivered so authentically that everyone thought he was serious about this goal and so the inspired crowd cheered him on the entire night, chanting: “King Dompler! King Dompler!”. Charlie sobered up the very next day and found his speech was uploaded online to a thunderous applause in the comments section, speculating all the potential of having a common man like Charlie govern over the US. Giving in to peer-pressure to fulfill the void in his self-esteem, Charlie decided he’d run with it and the rest was history for better or worse.

It wouldn’t take long for President Charlie to realize what he really wanted when he and Pim were walking back to the latter’s place since no hotels wanted to deal with a controversial figure like President Charlie. The Sun set a long time ago and stars were appearing in the darkening sky as the Moon began to radiate it’s beams onto the streets and the daytime warmth chilled out into a crisp cold atmosphere where the boys began to see their breaths in the moonlight. Pim looked a little cold just wearing his iconic white shirt and blue shorts so Charlie took his jacket off and gave it to the smaller of the two, to which Pim thanked him and put the article on himself, feeling warm and snug inside during the rest of the walk. When they arrived at Pim’s cozy little home he prepared a simple yet scrumptious homecooked Shrimp Alfredo (This fanfic is sponsored by Hello Fresh, today you can get 99% your first order by entering promo code LOLJK) and for dessert, they indulged in pints of ice cream. Pim picked out strawberry cheesecake and Charlie picked one of those experimental flavors. The two relaxed in the couch with their dessert while streaming Meepflix, and it seemed Charlie really was just one of the people again, snuggled up to the sweetest man the world’s ever known, who fell asleep cuddling the taller critter so he pulled up a blanket to cover them both up so they could doze off together without a care in the world. As Charlie was about to reunite with Pim on the Dreamland Express, he thought to himself: “Why can’t everyday be like this?”…

One week later, Pim spent his Friday morning making himself a batch of waffles as the coffee machine was ready to perk, preparing for his last day of work before planning out his weekend. Normally he’d hang out with Alan, Glep or his friend circle outside of work but everyone had plans, while Pim understood, he didn’t being by himself for long, he already felt lonely enough every morning and night being the only resident in the house. As Pim waited for his waffles in the iron to get ready, he scrolled through his social media feed and was hit with (not so) shocking news: President Charlie resigned! Complete with a heartfelt and apologetic speech where he held himself accountable for every screw up he made during his run and that he didn’t care about who replaced him as long as they had their shit together and didn’t make the same mistakes he did, after finishing his speech, he immediately bolted out of scene and hopped into a helicopter taking him back to only God knows where…just then Pim received a knock at the door, turning out to be You-Know-Who with a bouquet of flowers and the happiest look Pim ever saw on his face.

“Thank you, Pim, for making me see the light.” Charlie spat out while explaining: “I was miserable not just because I was literally winging it and had no idea what I was doing, there was something missing in my life I sorely needed…” Pim smiled and jokingly asked: “A hearty and balanced breakfast? I’m making waffles and I can’t exactly finish all of them myself.” After seconds of silenced passed, the two critters burst into laughter and embraced with a passionate hug.

….

Fast forward to some time in the future, Ex-President Charlie got a fresh start in the town he hailed from, the landlord of his old Apartment was kind enough to let him have his old complex back and he got a job working alongside Pim as a Smiling Friend, rekindling some positive relations after his disastrous stint, heck he even managed to reconcile with his ex-wife Zoey who felt she was too hard on him during the heat of the moment and was super supportive of whoever was lucky enough to be his new love interest. Charlie and Pim hung out after work like old times doing silly things, spent nights at each other’s homes for Breakfast

and Dinner, ect. so it didn’t take long for them to go from being “guys being pals” to officially dating within the span of the seventh year they’ve known each other (it was about time too), the third date they’d go on was at a gorgeous beach in Brazil, where Charlie found himself in a Hawaiian shirt and trunks watching the sunset on a beach towel, accompanied by Pim in the cutest sundress cozied up near his lovable doofus of a boyfriend. Charlie may have been the worst President in recent memory, but at least to Pim, he was the best boyfriend anybody could ever have.

“This is the life.”

[jungle-angel]

The One With The Wrestling Contest (Frat!Rhett x Reader)

Summary: It's the height of mating season in the Delta Tau Epsilon house and the boys are holding a little contest in the basement to win the hands of their s.os

Warnings: Frat parties, wrestling contests in the basement references to smut 18+ only

Tagging: @floydsmuse @attapullman @sebsxphia

The basement was louder than a friggin concert stadium on a summer's eve, the bluetooth speakers blasting the music on high volume. The ding of a bell and the raucous shouts of a bunch of drunken frat boys and sorority sisters filled the basement which was already packed full of people from across the campus spectrum.

You were watching from the homemade bleachers on the other side of the room, you and several of your girlfriends from the Phi Gamma sorority and a few others, were all sitting close together each in a different colored toga that you had all made from shitty repurposed bedsheets, cheering on the boys who were down in "the pits".

"C'mon Kyle!"

"Beat the shit out of him Kyle!"

"Go for his balls Kyle!!"

Kyle Shanahan slipped in and football tackled the Alpha Beta rival by the waist, dragging him down into the inflatable pool full of strawberry scented k-y jelly.

The bell dinged again and everyone stood up, cheering and barking as Kyle victoriously threw his hands up, howling with all his long-haired, bearded glory. His girlfriend, Karen McCann, practically jumped from the bleachers and into his arms, riling up the crowd in the basement.

"Oh God I don't think I can do this," Kayce groaned.

"Ya'll know what happens to us if we don't right?" Rhett asked him.

Kayce's nostrils flared at the thought. Every Delta Tau in the past had to fight for their mating rights every year around this time, those slimy little Alpha Betas daring to encroach into their territory. Kayce looked up at the bleachers and saw Monica cheering everyone on. Under no circumstances would he allow Stan Winthorp to put his grubby, pervy hands all over Monica Long. Kayce could feel his eyes burning when he saw Stan making his way into the pits, ready for action and eyeing Monica who rolled her eyes.

"Over my dead fuckin body!" Kayce blurted out.

"Down homeboy!" Rhett ordered. "Look at me, look at me......are ya'll gonna allow Stan to get with your girl?"

"FUCK NO!"

"Are ya'll gonna allow him to get with her?"

"FUCK NO!" Kayce shouted furiously.

"Then ya'll get in there and show him who the top dog is!" Rhett told him. "Ya'll are a LEAN, MEAN FIGHTING MACHINE!!"

Kayce let out the most frightening war yell anyone had ever heard when the bell dinged again, signaling for him to get in the pits.

"Oh my God I don't think I can watch this," Monica laughed.

"Brace yourself Monnie, it's about to get crazier," you chuckled.

"In that case I'd better do a shot," said Cairo, Foster's boyfriend.

You handed Cairo the little nip of McGuillicuddy's mint flavored liqueur which he swigged back as though it were water. It was eight seconds.......eight painful seconds before Kayce leapt up off his feet, grabbed Stan and landed him in a triangle choke right on the ground. You, Monica and the others cheered from the bleachers as Kayce riled everyone up, the crowd chanting his name as Stan sulked off to clean himself up and lick his wounds.

"Holy shit!" Kayce gasped, wiping his face with a fresh towel. "That was fuckin great!"

"Alright Foster ya'll are up! Go get'em!" Rhett told him.

Oh man did Foster look pissed. It wasn't even a split second before he had the Alpha Beta prick on the ground, the very same one who had been pestering Cairo the week before at one of the bars. It had taken both Kayce and the vice president of the Sigma Sigma Kappa house to get Foster off him and drag the prick away.

Rhett eyed Smitty from across the room with a fury, his eyes burning like a pair of cobalt flames, nearly black with the intense desire to fight. The other frat leaders kept encouraging him, tapping him on the shoulder and hurling obscenities and insults at the Alpha Betas.

The bell dinged and it was time for him to go in. The bluetooth speaker started to play Eminem's "Till I Collapse", full blast as the two frat leaders entered the pits, staring each other down as they assumed the position.

Rhett nearly blacked out as the bell signaled for them to fight. It was a slippery mess as they tried to keep their feet balanced, holding onto each other as he fought to wrestle Smitty to the ground.

"Think you're too good huh Abbott?" Smitty sneered. "Just you wait until (y/n)'s in my bed and I can......."

A loud war yell fell from Rhett's mouth as he flipped Smitty right over onto his back, the slick of the k-y jelly splattering everywhere upon impact. Rhett rose, beating his chest with one hand in the ecstasy of his sudden victory.

You ran from the bleachers and threw yourself right into his arms, kissing him heatedly, neverminding that he was coated in strawberry scented lube. Smitty angrily slunked away into the corner with the rest of the Alpha Betas while you and Rhett basked in the afterglow of his triumph.

"Wanna meet me upstairs later?" Rhett asked wiggling his eyebrows a little. "Meet Caesar at the midnight orgy?"

"As long as your truck doesn't turn back into a pumpkin I'm down," you chuckled before kissing him again, much to the delight of the basement crowd.

[democratthatlovesguns]

Faux News Debate

Trump: Vice President Kamala has agreed to a debate moderated by my henchmen at Faux News in front of thousands of idiots that could not add one plus one correctly to save their lives.

Translation: I am so hoping that VP Harris agrees to "debate" me in a stage moderated by asshole licking pricks that would NEVER turn off my mic, allowing me to interrupt VP Harris constantly. My own annoying behavior together with boos from the idiots I've paid to be in the crowd should be frustrating enough for VP Harris to break, and say something truly stupid that I can then turn and use to attack her until election day. CURRENTLY, I have nothing, while she has an endless list of stupid shit that I've said and I've done - including inciting an unsuccessful insurrection on Jan 6, 2021.

[bullet-prooflove]

Only You - Filip 'Chibs' Telford x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @corruptedcoffin @anime-weeb-4-life @redpoodlern @ravencrow83 @kishie8 @thelonewolfwillsurvive @thanossexual @nu1freakshow @oureternalbond @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @jtelford @the-wandering-lunatic @darqchilddaydreamz @yourwinchesterbros @lexondeck @keyweegirlie @poppyrose33 @belovedbastardremus @trublu2u @thebaileybugle @ambassadortotrilliusprime @yvette22 @legally-a-bastard @thequeenoftheisleofavalon @joyfulfxckery @waysbsgr @thanossexual @justreblogginfics

Companion piece to Punishment & Silver & Gold

Follows on from the events of Weak

It’s quiet up here at the cabin and it’s exactly what Chibs needs as he lays in the large cosy bed with the flannel sheets, your warm form pressed against his naked body. His fingertips trail over the scars that line your back, each lash a reminder of your bravery, your strength, your resilience.

It’s been almost three months since the barn and they’re still no closer to tracking down Galen. The Butcher of Belfast has well and truly gone to ground. They’d received word from Connor that he’s back in Ireland, attending to True IRA business. There’s no way for Chibs to get his hands on the prick because the other Kings won’t let him have him. If he crosses back over to the US it becomes a different story.  

The only solace is that you’ve been able to return to your own life. With Galen out of the country, you’re safe. You returned to work almost a month ago and have been indulging in your own courtroom battles. He’s forgotten how vicious you can be, how you use words to cut down your adversaries and tear apart their arguments. It’s like watching poetry in motion and Chibs is man enough to admit it does something for him to see you in your element.

One of the reasons he’s brought you up here for the weekend is because he thinks you need to take a breather, you’ve been hurtling head long into your cases, working all hours of the night in an attempt to catch up on the ones you let slide during your ‘sabbatical’. The other reason is perspective.

He didn’t set out with the intention of becoming President of the club, it was always assumed that Jax would take over when Clay eventually stepped down. However, it had all gone to hell when Clay had set the Persian on Tig’s girl, Suzie Q. It had ended with an unmarked grave on the outskirts of Charming.

After Clay’s untimely demise Jax hadn’t wanted to take up the mantle, in fact he didn’t even want to be V.P anymore. He wanted to step back into a member position so he could spend more time with his kids. Clay’s death had changed his view on the world. He saw how the power of the gavel could corrupt, how insidious it could be if you didn’t have the Club’s best interests.

Instead of making it his own he had nominated Chibs to take over the role with Bobby as his Vice President.

“There’s nobody here that loves the club as much as you do brother.” He had told Chibs when it was taken to table. “The two of you will do what’s best for everybody and that’s what we need right now. Strong leadership with the M.C at it’s heart.”

The vote had been unanimous.

It’s been over a week and he still isn’t sure how it sits with him.

Your nose trails up along the curve of his throat, distracting him from his thoughts, your lips following suit. He can not express how good it feels to be alone here with you, to carve out this tiny piece of heaven away from all the other shit in your lives.  

Your teeth graze his earlobe, breath ghosting in his ear. It’s one of the things that takes him zero to sixty, you know that. He feels himself stirring, despite the fact he had you less than hour ago.

You and him…

It’s a craving he just can’t sate, no matter how hard he tries.

“You’re insatiable lass.” He murmurs as your hand begins to wander, fingertips trailing over the tattoos that mar his chest and then lower, over the scar where Jimmy O had driven the knife into abdomen and left him bleeding out in the street.

You laugh and he loves that sound, it’s airy and light and it loosens something deep down inside of him. Your palm grazes over his hardening cock, thumb skirting over the tip before you squeeze just right. He moans at the sensation, his head tipping back into the pillow.

“Fuck love.” He mutters as you begin to move in slow languid strokes.

“It looks like I’m not only the interested party.” You tease and he smiles because you really are ruinous.

You have no idea of the things you do to him, how he would spend his days doing anything just to make you happy. You never ask him for that and he knows you never would. It’s part of the reason he loves you.

“I can’t ever get enough of you.” He tells you as he rolls onto his side and cradles your face, his thumb chases over the blush of your cheek. “You’ll always find me wanting.”

He doesn’t know it but his words mean the world to you because deep down there’s this fear. One that you can never explain to the man you love. Sometimes you hear Galen’s voice in your ear, his breath a hoarse rasp when he tells you that Filip won’t want you when he’s done, that he won’t even be able to look at you.  

When Filip kisses you, it feels like you’re drowning. Passion intermingles with the tenderness and before you know it, he has you on your back, moaning into his mouth as he presses deep. He loves you slowly, with languid thrusts that drag over that sweet spot again and again until stars combust through your synapses, igniting every single one of your nerve endings. You tug at his hair, and he comes apart with you, his eyes locked on yours at the pinnacle of release.

This is what he needs, he thinks as he dips his head and kisses you again. You and only you.

Love Chibs? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[yup-thats-me]

—foreseeable forever ● T. Seiya

a/n: I cannot thank you enough for being so patient with me, anon! I truly had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy reading it too! <3 not proofread

pairing: Takehaya Seiya x fem!reader

summary: maybe opening her heart a bit late was not too bad <3

rules

“Y/n, I need you to sign this form as the Kyudo Vice President. The homeroom teacher has asked for it.” Seiya Takehaya gave a piece of paper to his best friend.

Y/n’s eyes glided over the form before she thrust the paper into Seiya’s chest, making him stumble back from the sudden force.

“I’ll do it later,” she declared as she hastily took her bow and began shooting at the targets. The other club members seemed to observe them with bated breath, the atmosphere thick.

“Is something the matter with you all?” Y/n questioned, making them turn around and get ready to shoot. Y/n was known to be friendly and although she could be loud, she never lashed out at them like this. And most of the club members knew the reason why.

Seiya gave troubled looks to the boys they could only shake their heads and resume practicing in fear that Y/n might scold them again. She did seem on edge for the past few days.

Takehaya had noticed something; Y/n had been ignoring him for quite some time now. The two would not spend their recess talking about literature, nor did Y/n visit him with baked goods like she used to. Was it because the club activities were too tiring for her? No, she works well under pressure and she loves her position as much as she loves kyudo. Was it because Seiya had not returned the book she lent him? No. That’s not it.

Seiya now made it his mission to make Y/n open up. He couldn’t bear Y/n avoiding him, he needed her to live, no that’s too cheesy. He needs her to—continue existing. For the next hour, Seiya spent the club hours not shooting arrows but pestered Y/n with all sorts of things in hopes that she will finally give in and say what’s wrong.

“Y/n can I come over at your house for the math homework?”

“No.”

“Do you want to drink something? I’ll get it for you”

“Nope.”

“Want to go for a walk on our way home?”

“I’m busy.”

“Y/n, can y—” She cut the boy off. “Takehaya Seiya, I don’t know what you’re up to but leave me alone!”

Ouch, the full name, Seiya thought. He’s really in trouble now. Nonetheless, he held the girl’s hand firmly. “But I want to know what happened with you!”

Y/n shook her hand to get him off but Seiya was persistent. “Nothing happened, now let me go.” Y/n said or ordered him but Seiya still held on to her.

“Let me go, I have to practise. Unlike you, Seiya, I’m not a genius in everything I do.”

“Is Kyudo more important than me?”

Tears pricked Y/n’s eyes. Seeing thet, Seiya could no longer hold her anymore. “If only,” Y/n walked away from him, taking her bows and packing them.

“Takigawa-san, can I leave early today?” The coach could only hum out a ‘hmm’ before the girl stormed off the Kazemai kyudo hall.

The girls too started to pack their things and the boys gathered around Seiya. It took him a few minutes to compose himself before he asked the guys if anyone knew anything. It was only Nanao who commented.

“You don’t know anything about girls, do you?”If it was any other time, Seiya would have laughed it off but he’s not in the state of mind to joke.

“Now’s not the time, Kisaragi.”

“But he’s true though,” Kaito said as he ran his hair through his auburn hair. “What do you mean?”

Nanao giggled. “Honestly Seiya, do you need another par of glasses to see it?’’ The poor boy was dumbstruck once again. “See what?”

“That  Y/n is in love with you.”

It did not matter who said that, all Takehaya could feel was his heart beating so loudly against his chest that he felt it would burst out. “She…does?”

Kaito sighed, patting Seiya at the back. “If I were you, I’d run after. Would not want for her to get stolen from me,” he said with a smirk.

Almost instantaneously, Seiya charged out the door and ran towards the bus stand where he quickly spotted Y/n walking with her head down. Before he would lose sight of her, he sprint and caught her wrist, making her turn around.

“Seiya…!”

“Y/n, please tell me what’s going on, please! I need to know!”

His demand made the girl look down at the floor. How could he expect for a girl to open up her heart only for it to be broken? What’s the point? He’ll only end up hating her, but she needed to tell him. She needed to tell him how her heart skipped a beat whenever she looked at him, how she always imagined them to be together before she went off to sleep, every day, and how jealous she would get whenever she would see Seiya talking to other girls. She needed to, even if it meant it would break her heart. He had to know.

“Do you really want to know?’’

“More than anything.”

“Then listen,” she breathed in. “I hate you, Takehaya Seiya. I hate you for making me this way. I hate you for you have made me choose my heart rather than my head. I hate how you make me feel, hate how I cannot help but smile whenever I look or even think of you. I’m so in love with you, that it hurts,” her tears fell uncontrollably as she finally bared her heart open.

Seiya could not form a response, all he could do was pull y/n close to him and let her cry her heart out, he could only caress and play with her hair and wait for her to calm down. It was now his time to wait, and he would do so until however long.

When she finally did calm down, he made her look at him. “How long have you loved me?”

“…2nd  grade of middle school,” Y/n replied hesitantly making the boy “Wow.”

Seiya pulled her for a kiss, startling her but once she realized what was happening, she quickly kissed him back. “One,” Seiya said when they pulled away before pulling her back in. “Two,” he did this for a total of two more times.

“That,” he said as he lovingly caressed Y/n’s face, “was for all those years that I have not loved you. I’ll love you everyday for our foreseeable forever.”

The club members who were watching could no longer hold in their happiness as the girls squealed, giving away their hiding spot making the boys facepalm.

“You guys can come out now,” Takehaya smiled, as they ran towards them to congratulate.

Y/n was happy, truly happy. Maybe she should have been more confident in herself, but even though it was a long wait, it was worth it.

do not copy, translate or repost to any other site. all belongs to yup-thats-me on tumblr

[political-sideblog-dont-at-me]

As we get closer to election day, I'm going to need people to be normal about Palestinians complaining about Kamala Harris.

Don't reply to their posts with "But Trump would be worse!" (They also hate him, criticizing Harris is not an endorsement of Trump [And if they don't name a candidate they want you to vote for it's not an endorsement of anyone]. They're fully aware of how bad Trump is, the thing is that with the, you know, genocide going on they're already going through hell now under someone who's not Trump.)

Don't reply to their posts talking about how hard you hope their lives will be under Trump because they're a minority (I've seen people do this, seriously what is wrong with you? First that's not how you act when you want to convince people. Second many of them are already suffering under the Biden administration. Third, you're just being bigoted when you do that "You're a minority who doesn't agree with me so I hope [Terrible thing] happens to you if my politician doesn't win" is just showing that you don't care about minorities unless they agree with you. You're not "warning" them or whatever you think you're doing, you'rejust being a prick. And you're showing every other member of a minority group that your opinions are worth listening to.)

Don't call them a psyop for having a negative opinion of Harris (Yes there is election interference going on. But that's more "Elon Musk is putting targeted ads on Twitter telling different voting blocks completely opposite things about the same candidate" and not "This one person told me they don't want to vote for Kamala Harris because their [Friend/Family member] died from the Biden administration's actions". Instead of harassing them and telling them that Gaza is a single issue, just let them be.)

Lastly, if Harris loses on Tuesday, we are not blaming Palestinians, got it? Even if the number abstaining or voting 3rd party would have won her the election. Nobody should be forced to vote for an administration that is actively taking part in killing their families, and nobody should be criticized for choosing another option under those circumstances. The Biden administration could've already started an arms embargo on Israel, or even just sent them less money and fewer weapons, or stopped vetoing UN resolutions, or actually used that dock they built for humanitarian aid (Like they pretended they would) instead of sending in more military forces, etc.

They could've actually done something to make Palestinians genuinely want to vote for Harris, but instead the Biden administration has thrown itself full force behind the genocide. Has Harris said better things about Palestine than Trump has? Sure, but those are all words until something actually happens (Technically the Vice President doesn't have much political power, but she is in a position to put pressure on Biden and be more vocally supportive of any policies that would actually make Israel stop. And she hasn't).

Basically, just don't harrass the people who are currently direct victims of genocide. It's incredibly simple and easy, just don't reply to or report their posts.

(Side note: Yes there are articles about some Palestinians either supporting Harris or saying anyone is better than Trump. Try to remember that Palestinians have varying opinions and if you're responding to a Palestinian who's mad at Harris by saying "But this other Palestinian isn't so you shouldn't be!" you are indeed the bad guy. Additionally it seems like in Gaza the current general opinion is "This election doesn't affect us because neither candidate will stop the genocide." That's not an endorsement of Harris, that's telling you you still need to protest after the election. And if Harris does get elected and she continues Biden's policies then you will see me shift to advocating for 3rd party candidates instead of simply telling you to not harrass people over their voting decisions. If she actually helps Palestine I would be pleasantly surprisedbut as of now I don't expect her to do anythingbut uphold the status quo [Which is really bad])

[delvi3]

MY YANDERE BOYFRIEND

THE BEGINNING:

Being a student council representative means everything to Riddle, Must always attend council meetings, Help a few students here and there, Keep his reputation perfectly likable and high.

He was referred to as the ' Perfectionist Representative ' by a few troublemakers.. preferably.. Ace Trappola.

Though, he is also called the ' Tyrant Representative ' due to his strictness into making students ' obeying ' the rules of the school.

But, he still has friends of his own. Trey Clover, the president of the baking club, and Chen'ya a mischievous student from another school or perhaps their ' rival ' school. RSA.

( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ(((��・;)

Riddle is walking down the hallway, walking his way to the baking club where his friend Trey Clover is president of the baking club.

He stumbled upon the door of the club, and he slid the door open. "Trey I-" he stopped.

Trey wasn't there but Reader the vice president of the baking club.

"Ah, Riddle-san, Trey isn't here at the moment. Is there anything I can help you with?" Reader was slicing a strawberry on the chopping board.

"Oh, do you where he is?" Riddle asked.

Reader answered, "I'm sorry, He didn't say anything about where he was going, but he told me he'll come back soon, don't worry."

Reader continued, "You can sit right over there if you want to wait for him." Reader smiled as she pointed an empty seat at the other side of the counter.

Riddle went over to the empty seat as Reader continued to slice up strawberries.

Suddenly, she accidentally pricked her finger from the sharp knife, "OUCH! Ah.."

Riddle stood up, "Are you alright?!" Riddle wen tower to her side.

"Oh, I.. I uh just pricked my finger, it's nothing.." Riddle gently pulls her finger to check it, "What do you mean by nothing?! Your fingers and hand are splattered with blood! Let's head to the clinic right this instant!" Riddle and Reader went to the school clinic.

Riddle explained everything to the school nurse, and she hurriedly patched up Reader's injury.

As Reader sat on the sofa, Riddle was there softly scolding her for her clumsiness.

As Reader sat there, she couldn't help but laugh at how cute Riddle is being right now. He acts like a worried boyfriend.. Oh no.

"Reader? Are you listening?" Reader snapped from her thoughts when Riddle said her name.

"O-oh uh, yeah. I'm sorry, that never happened to me.." Riddle sighed.

"It's fine, but be careful next time." Riddle replied, Reader couldn't help but crack a smile.

When Reader smiled, Riddle felt something forming from his stomach, but most importantly, his heart.. He can feel his heart beating fast as seconds pass of him looking at Reader smiling.

"I know. Thank you, Riddle." Riddle's heart beating more fast when he heard Reader saying his name.

He's confused as to why he's feeling like this towards her and how he likes to see her smile and.. to see her.

Full series: here

[evita-shelby]

A Nelson Christmas

Smut, mdni 🔞

Jack Nelson x Eva Smith

Inspired by the wonderful @call-sign-shark Christmas gift

Cw: sex, daddy kink, power kink, mentions of usa politics of 1922/23 and use of religious imagery

For context a party boss is essentially a criminal who pretty much runs a political party partially or fully and the Nelsons have three kids by now

They don’t go home to their home in DC, no instead their driver merely takes them around the back where the White House Butler directs them up to the presidential suite.

“Florence said they need to make sure no one suspects they won’t be home tonight.” Eva brandished the keys to the kingdom and refused to let him unlock St Peter’s Gates.

“Think we can make Vice President Kennedy tonight.” The newly minted party boss and multimillionaire didn’t waste time the moment the doors shut behind them. Jack couldn’t get enough of her, even when she got as big as a house with the boys, he couldn’t stop wanting her.

I’ve bewitched you; she’d said with a grin when he confessed he was so in love with her he couldn’t keep his prick hard enough to stray.

“No, but we’ll make a duchess tonight. The Duchess of Devonshire to be exact.” The witch grinned and undressed him as they made their way to the borrowed bed.

Jack’s Midas Touch with business had him rubbing elbows with the who’s who of America, but Eva’s charm and blue blood was taking them the rest of the way.

No one could resist her, they all fell under her spell and before they knew it, First Lady Florence Harding was eating out of their hands. And as a show of their friendship and Eva’s bewitching nature, they were invited to help butter up the Mexican Delegates and keep the President’s bad health a secret.

It was a coveted invitation that took them closer and closer to their goal to become America’s kingmakers ---literally in their children’s cases--- even if it came at the cost of their Christmas traditions.

Had they been home the children would be in bed, the maid and the nanny at their parents’ homes and the Nelsons making baby number four on every available surface and position they could think of.

That first Christmas had been good, and the ones after too, but none compared to the Christmas of 1919.

Rosie had been made on the piano, keys clanging off key as he fucked Eva until the racket woke up the boys and once the boys were settled Jack fucked her on the desk in her boudoir some more. The piano had to be varnished again and the desk replaced, but the memories ---and the scratches--- his witch made will remain there forever.

The twins conceived that night they spent in the Lincoln Bedroom in the east wing. She’d moved with the agility of a dancer and Jack had exhausted his imagination and himself as he taught her every way they could fuck.

And tonight, the Duchess of Devonshire was going to be made in the bed of the current leader of the Free World.

The Hardings wanted the room to seem occupied tonight and Jack was going to make sure the world believes the President with his bad heart fucked the first lady to hell and back.

They were used to keeping quiet because of the kids, keeping the sound down was not going to be a problem. For him at least.

On her birthday he’d let her do anything she wanted with him, let her tie him up and blindfold him with the fine scarf he’d given her that morning. If anyone had seen what she was up to in the hotel room, they’d never fear him again.

Tonight, Jack’s gonna get his revenge.

“Have you been naughty this year, Mrs. Nelson?” Jack asks knowing she’s close to crying in frustration. He’d finger fucked her until she begged for his cock and he’d stopped her from cumming just to ask her this inane question.

“Hmm, doesn’t daddy like it when I’m naughty?” the witch asks as if she weren’t completely at his mercy and spread over the small breakfast table in the president’s bedroom.

She didn’t have to suck his fingers like she sucks his cock, but her petty streak demanded she pay him in kind.

“Gotta teach you some manners don’t I?” Jack removed his fingers from her wicked mouth and wiped them clean on the velvet of her dress before undoing his belt.

Wouldn’t be the first time he’s taken her across his lap and shown her the benefits of corporal punishment. Not the first time he'd used this belt on her either.

But he’s got a different sort of punishment in mind.

One involving the silk ropes tying the curtains of the four poster bed and Eva’s need to always be touching him.

Always needing to pull his hair when he goes down on her, always needing to pull him closer as he ruts inside of her like a beast, the need to interlock their hands as they make love slowly and tenderly.

The witch enjoys feeling him under her hands just as he enjoys having her completely and utterly under his control.

If the housekeeper thought the mess they made in the Lincoln bedroom ghastly, she’d croak seeing the one they’ll leave here tomorrow morning.

[starchildren220]

Phoenix Chapter Two

♡

Phoenix Masterlist

♡

Homelander x OC

Black Noir x OC

Soldier Boy x OC

♡

It had barely been a day and the video someone posted of you taking down the robbers had gone viral. People were stopping you on the streets for photos. You were the sole talk all over, including the Vought higher up.

“We should get her to take Lamplighter place.” One suggested. “She’s already popular just imagine the sales.”

“She hasn’t even done an interview.” Madelyn Stillwell, Vice President of Hero Management, argued.

“Then let’s interview her.” Stan Edgar, CEO of Vought, announced. “Madelyn,” She turned to him. “get someone to find her and bring her here for a proper interview.”

“Yes sir.” She smiled before leaving.

Reaching her office she sent someone for Black Noir. It wasn’t long before he came knocking.

“Come in!” He opened the door and stood opposite of her. She clicked a button on the TV remote and a photo of you flashed onto the screen.“I need you to find this girl and convince her to have an interview with us.” She gave a smile and leaned on her intertwined fingers.

Black Noir nodded, before leaving the room and heading down to the surveillance department. Annika had already been sent the picture of you, she had the cameras following you.

Black Noir walked over with a sticky note reading ‘girl location’. Annika smiled nervously and she sent the locations. As soon as he received the locations he left.

♡

All the people got quite overwhelming at times but it was just a fraction of the human interaction she missed out on during her lonely childhood.

It didn’t take you long to notice the figure following you. Deciding to hide in the closest store, you push open the doors of an electronics store.

“Hey welcome in! Are you looking for anything in particular?” A man asked, he was tall and lanky with brown curls. He had a lopsided boyish smile.

“Oh, uh… I just need a place to hide out, it’s fine if I stay here for a little while?” You gave a sheepish smile. He nodded.

“Yeah that’s cool.” He shrugged. You decided it would be easier to spend your time there talking to someone rather than being bored out of your mind. You walk over to the front desk. Leaning on the corner you tell him your name.

“Oh um, I’m Hughie.” He kept the same boyish smile. “Who’re you hiding from?” He questioned.

“I don’t know, I felt them though.” He furrowed his brows. “I have powers.” You elaborated, he nodded in what seemed to be an understanding.

“That’s cool, I-I mean if it doesn’t hurt anybody.” You smiled.

“It doesn’t hurt anybody I don’t want to be hurt.” He saw the saw the sadness behind your eyes when you said it.

♡

It had been hours, you and Hughie talked about everything under the sun, he had even told you about his girlfriend’s recent death. It was dark outside and his manger left telling Hughie to lock up after him.

The door opened with a ring. But nobody had walked in. The door closed behind nothing. You felt someone there. Your eyes hardened and you focus on feeling the air around you. Seeing him you looked straight at him. Hughie noticed this and called out.

“Hello?” Hughie asked. There were footstep being heard.

“Who are you?” Hughie jumped up from his seat.

“The fuck?”

“Right in front of you, prick. You think I wouldn’t find this thing?” A plastic circle thing floated in the air. You grabbed the man’s wrist

“The hell, let go of me.” He dropped the thing on the glass showcase in front of him. He ripped his arm from your grip and grabbed Hughie’s lanyard.

“Hughie.” Pulling on the lanyard he slamming Hughie’s head into the glass cracking it and causing a cut on his forehead to appear.

You quickly sprang into action using your powers to stop his movement. You turn to Hughie eyes glowing, cracks framing your face, and your hair floating.

Walking over to the frozen man you place your hand on his arm making his pass out. He fell limp and became visible again. You looked away noticing his nakedness.

Suddenly a car rammed into the store and a man with black hair and beard and dressed in a black trench coat pushed the car door open.

“I see ya already handled it.” His accent was from New Zealand.

“Butcher?!” Hughie seemed to know the man.

“Come on Hughie, help me get him in the boot.” Hughie started to spiral and was arguing with Butcher, you took thins opportunity to leave out the back door sensing the second man hostile nature.

In the back alley a figure dropped down from the rooftop. You forgot about the guy following you. He didn’t say anything but he held a yellow sticky note.

The note read, ‘come with me, Vought wants to interview you to become one of their supes’ This excited you, finally you could do what you dreamed of doing, and you knew he was telling the truth, his thought were a little hard to understand but you knew he wasn’t lying.

You nodded. “Lead the way.” He nodded before turning around and climbing up the wall to the rooftops. You watch him until he reached the top, he looked back down at the ground to where you still were.

Using your powers you float up to meet him at the rooftop. He seemed to just look at you, you tried to get a read on his thoughts but they were way too jumbled and you were tired.

He started to walk jumping over the gaps between buildings, climbing the difference with taller building. You floated when these obstacles present themselves but overall you walked.

♡

Soon enough the two of you were at the very tall, very intimidating Vought Tower. Noir jumped down from the rooftop landing hard on the concrete. You float yourself down and he leads you inside the tower.

No body asked questions when he entered, passing security easily. Everyone moved out of his way and avoiding even looking in his direction.

“You must be a fan favorite.” You quipped to no response. Shrugging it off the both of you reached the elevator, the people who needed to use it either left or waited outside of it so they don’t ride with him.

He pressed the button for floor 99. ‘this is gonna be a long ride’ you thought to your self.

It was a long ride, or at least for you. You had no idea of what Noir is thinking, you kind of just stopped trying to unscramble his thoughts.

He eventually led you to a big room with a ‘V’ shaped table. You looked around the room, TV’s and monitors decking the walls on either side and in front was a wall of windows.

At the table sat a man with short greying black hair and glasses, he had a calm and collected demeanor, unlike the man standing next to him. It was the man she met before at the diner; Homelander, if she remembered correctly.

“Welcome, I’m Stan Edgar.” The corners of his mouth tilted up slightly giving a small business approached smile. You introduced yourself to him and he gestured you to sit at the spot next to him on the ‘V’ table.

“I’m here to give you the big interview, to become part of the Seven, now normally I don’t give the interviews but on special cases like yours I just can’t help my curiosity. So, what can you do?” He seemed genuinely intrigued.

“Uh, a lot I guess.” You didn’t know why but his presence was very overwhelmingly powerful, it made you nervous.

“Show me.” He commanded you, he then commanded the man. “Homelander.”

You stood from your seat as Homelander approached you. “Do you want quick or showy?” You ask Edgar.

“Quick.” He answered your question. Nodding your eyes started to glow, your hair floated, and the glowing cracks formed. Then it took a little bit more struggle to knock him out without physical contact, which you believed was not possible at the moment. Soon enough he got close but when he did he passed out.

He fell at your feet, lying in a close version of the fetal position. Edgar clapped. “Well done, you’re on the team.” He slid forwards some paper work for you to sign. After reading it you signed it, you could always just erase your signature later if necessary.

“Welcome to the Seven.” He held out a hand for you to shake.

“Thank you sir.” You shook his hand back. “Do you want me to wake him?” He got up from the seat and started to walk out.

“I don’t care.” The he left, closing the doors behind him. You walked over to Homelander’s body. He had a peaceful look on his face. Placing your mr hand on his cheek you woke him.

He sprang up grabbing you by the neck and using his flight and speed to quickly slam you into the wall across the room. You weren’t being choked, though he was very much trying you held a small forcefield between your neck and his hand.

“How dare you!” He seethed, his eyes glowing red like when you first met.

“I just did what I was asked.” You expanded the forcefield pushing his hand off your neck. This action seemed to make him angrier.

“I’m the leader of this team you’ll listen to me, ‘ya hear.” He pointed his index finger at you.

“You’re not my employer, I’ll listen to whoever that is before I listen to you.” Two lasers were quickly deflected off of the forcefield you had to make from his anger. Deciding you had enough of this you washed a wave of calm over him.

He seemed to physically relax; his hands unclenched, his shoulders lowered, his face unscrunched, and his breathing slowed.

“What did you do?” The forced feeling chase a whisper to escape him.

“I calmed you down. I didn’t want to fight you, but trust me I will if need be.” You explained with a subtle threat at the end. The force field dissipated and you lowered yourself to the floor. He followed you to the floor.

“Look I did what I needed to do to get this job, nothing against you. I don’t like fighting.” You held your hands up in an explaining manor.

“Fine.” He gritted out. “I’m suppose to show you to your new room anyway.” He walked past you and towards the door. You followed behind him.

♡

[cuprohastes]

History

You know why I love history?

Of course you do, I explained it to you the other day when we were talking about Gaslighting.

History is the story of why everyting.

Yup. Not a typo. Why everything. Why do we use buttons? Why are they on a specific side of your clothes if you’re a man? Why don’t women get pockets? Why are space rockets the size they are? Why did the Voyager TV series lead to Kamela running for president?

Well…

Buttons evolved out of horn or bone toggles, and were considered to be fancy and high status, so the more buttons you had the cooler you were until putting buttons on everything became ‘That’s the way we always did it’.

They’re on the right, so you could slide your hand into your coat and grab your dagger.

It’s not wholly known but one reason was that after the French Revolution, it was feared that women were running around with seditious pamphlets in their pockets and thusly pockets were banned. The other answer is that fashion designers traditionally assumed that women don’t need pockets and were just terrible pricks about it.

Rockets have to go on roads and on trains to get from their place of manufacture to their destination. Train Tracks and Roads are standardized based on grooves cut into Roman roads by carts and chariots, which were themselves a standard width. That width being two horse asses wide. Thus rocket components have to fit on tracks and roads that are defined by 2000 year old horse heinies.

Voyager had crap ratings so they hired Jeri Ryan to walk around with big tits and a tight outfit. Her husband was running for re-election, but the shooting schedule made him think the marriage was failing. He spent so much time dealing with that, that he flubbed the re-election campaign vs a law professor called Barack O’Bama. Barack picked Biden as Vice President, which gave him the experience to win vs. Trump, and he picked Kamela, and stepped down because he’s nearly 80 years old.

Anyway that’s the mostly correct-ish explanation.

[bamdelune]

I heard requests were open!

May I request Scaramouche/Wanderer with male reader, just some fluff please! Thank you and have a good day \o/

hellaoo ! ofc, ofc !! everyone likes a good fluff fic from time to time so here it is ^_^ I've been thinking of a bus au for quite a while now so this gives me an opening <3 tysm for the request and of course, feel free to ask for more hehe

Scaramouche x (Male) Reader — Modern!au

notes: fluff, high school!au, first time writing with a male reader so bear with me if this ends up a bit stiff but it would be generally similar to how I write gn!reader, slowburn (?) but the burn isn't burning the way i want it to — sort of plotless as well (?) scaramouche crochets here

Monday, 7:00 PM

"Excuse me! Wait!" You call for the moving bus as it was just about to start moving. It halts after the driver hears you and the double doors hiss open. Your feet hop onto the steps, swiping your bus card against the scanner before moving through the aisles of seats before taking a seat on one of the spots near the second set of doors in the middle.

Exhaustion creeps up on you as your back hits the seat's rest, your back muscles start to relax when you release an exhale of relief. You throw your head back and the bus starts moving after the last passenger boards at the last minute. Truthfully, you were sort of glad that you weren't the last to get on.

As you re-focus on the movement of the bus, you manage to lay your eyes on the last person who boarded the bus. The boy looked strikingly familiar but you were far too worn out to think about it further. Before you knew it, it was finally your stop and you reluctantly forced yourself to get up and exit the bus. You would have opted to slump in your seat and let the vehicle take you anywhere but it would've been hell to walk from the last stop back to your area—which was 3 stops away.

Once you hear the lock of your front door click open, you take of your work shoes and make your way your bed. You couldn't be bothered to change into pajamas and allowed your exhaustion carry you off to dreamland.

Tuesday, 7:05 PM

The second time you ride the bus this week, you see the familiar guy again in the exact seat again. This time, you're not tired out of your mind to recognize him. On the seat across you sat the vice president of the your high school's student council, Scaramouche. His purple strands of hair fall stray on his porcelain face as he turned his head down to look at his phone, he had headphones that hung above his head.

Now that you think about it, maybe his popularity within your batch was reasonable. He was unfairly pretty for someone who was apparently too snarky for his own good. That sounded mean—you haven't exactly interacted with him enough to agree with those rumors.

You catch yourself staring too long when he suddenly feels eyes on him and raises his head up slightly to look in your direction. You immediately busy yourself with your own phone and desperately ignore the heat that made its way up to your face and the pink that the tip of your ears.

When you finally get off on your stuff, Scaramouche pays no mind to your leave and simply focuses on the pages of his novel.

Wednesday, 6:55 PM

You reach the bus stop absolutely soaking from head to toe. The necktie that came with your uniform hung slightly loose under your collar and your hair was drenched. Little could be done to avoid the pouring rain, only using the shelter of your backpack as a pathetic attempt to shield yourself from the harsh raindrops.

The bus hasn't arrived yet, and unlike the other stops, the one nearest to your school does not have any type of roofing that could cover yourself so you had to bear with standing as the cold water pricked at your skin.

You thought the rain had stopped for a moment when you feel the rain over your head stop but as you look up, a white umbrella hung over your head as an arm brought it up. You turn around slightly to reveal Scaramouche holding it the base.

"Oh— uh." You stammer in surprise, eyes going wide

Scaramouche shuffles closer to your side to find shelter under his umbrella. "You know, I think it's pretty stupid not to bring an umbrella when the forecast said so," he huffs as he observed the flow of the rain as it poured down onto the road.

"Didn't get to read it— or rather I.. don't read it." You scratch your nape, an awkward chuckle escapes you afterwards. The purple-haired boy only hums before the bus pulls up at 7pm. You both get on and sit on your usual seat. You would be lying if you said you were slightly disappointed with this arrangement but you quickly forget about it when the pitter-pattering of the rain on the window lulls you to sleep on the bus.

✦

You wake up when you feel a gentle hand shaking you awake. Eyes fluttering open, you turn to see that Scaramouche was the one responsible for your return to a lucid state.

"It's your stop soon." He curtly states, he was standing up beside your seat's row with one side of his headphones behind his ear.

You look around the bus and out the window to see the familiar buildings of your area, feeling that the bus was slowing down as you pull up to the stop.

Your lips form a small 'o' before muttering a soft thanks to him before standing up with your bag slung over your shoulder. You wipe the small trail of drool that dripped from the side of your mouth, praying to the archons Scaramouche didn't notice it.

The bus comes to a halt and you slightly jerk forward from the intertia, the familiar doors hiss open and you walk over to leave. You don't know what possesses you to do so, but you raise a hand up to wave at Scaramouche just as you leave. He raises an eyebrow in surprise but luckily, he reciprocates the action.

By this time, the rain had stopped and you watch as the bus left to the next stop.

Thursday, 7:01 PM

To your surprise, Scaramouche was seated before you today.

You ponder at the entrance of the bus for a while. He's had you acting out of your usual routine and demeanor now so why not take it a step further? You plop yourself down on the seat beside him, placing your bag down on your lap. You sneeze in the other direction to avoid spraying on Scaramouche. A cold was already starting to build up from standing in the rain yesterday.

After a few minutes, the bus begins moving. You feel a cold sensation on your hand and see that Scaramouche was nudging a small bottle of drugstore medicine into your hand.

"You look like shit," Scaramouche says as he looked back at his book. "Drink this."

You were taken aback but respond with a quick chuckle before taking it out of his hand and opening the cap to drink out if it. "Classy choice of words. Thanks." You nudge his arm with your elbow playfully. He only responds with a scoff and the rest of the ride is spent in comfortable silence.

You went home that day in high spirits, you were slowly getting to know Scaramouche. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all, perhaps just a little rough around the edges.

Friday, 7:00 PM

You take the seat beside Scaramouche again, who had his headphones on again. He acknowledges you with a nod snd turns his focus back to the item he seemed to be crocheting.

Getting the cold definitely took a toll on your energy. You went through all your classes today half-asleep. Fighting a virus knocked you out the moment you sat on your seat. Before you could catch yourself, you fall asleep and your head rests on Scaramouche's shoulder. He stiffens at the contact for a while before relaxing. A 'tch' leaves his lips but he proceeds to adjust his position and your head's placement to make sure you don't wake up with a stiff neck.

Now it was his turn to look at you up close. As much as he's reluctant to admit it, he finds it slightly.. subtly .. cute how peaceful you looked when you slept. You often participated in class, something even he doesn't tend to do as student council vice president, and wonders whether you actually rest given the slightly dark eyebags under your eyes. His instincts get the better of him and his fingers reach to swipe the short stray strands of your hair away from your face to get a clearer view of your face prevent them from making your face itch too much. You gently stir from his action but never wake up, to his relief. He'd rather die than have you find out what he just did. A pink hue dusts over his features and he tries to turn his focus back to his book. He only wakes you up as gentle as he did last time when the bus pulls up at your stop. You say a quick thanks before leaving again, this time he peers over his shoulder at the window as you walk away from the bus stop.

From that week forward, the feeling of looking forward to bus rides together was a mutual thing that the both of you felt. Scaramouche felt more inclined to hand you little items that he made from crocheting everytime you sat down beside him. You often walked to the stop from school together and it was filled with conversation (mostly you talking and him listening, but he liked it that way). This became a little treasured routine between the two of you. It doesn't take long for the both of you to start warming up to each other and give fleeting touches that makes the other feel a blooming sensation in your chests. It drives you a bit crazy to think how much can change within a week, and probably from stolen glances in between class lectures.

Each time you fall asleep on the bus, you could rely on Scara to serve as a comfortable shoulder to lean on during rides home &lt;3

© bamdelune may 2023. do not repost, translate, plagiarize any of my works without permission, thank you so much! reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

[webbyghost]

Started thinking about the other characters in Cooties so here’s some thoughts on them. (Not as in-depth as Doug’s was)

Wade, my second favorite, is the guy who was massively popular in school, but his athletic career was dead before he had a chance to get it going. He’s been trying to regain that feeling of accomplishment and adoration ever since. He adores Lucy with all his heart but never felt good enough for her, even before Clint came along, always feeling like the second a better guy comes along he’ll lose her forever. Responds to threats and uncomfortable emotions with aggression because that’s all he knows to do, but acknowledges when he fucks up and tries to be a better man. He acts like a selfish prick but when it comes down to it, he’ll jump on a live grenade to keep his people safe. Wants to have that good old american dream- white picket fence, beautiful wife, children. Likes fruity cocktails but will never admit it. Needs therapy.

Lucy is so repressed she’s always on the verge of some kind of breakdown, wearing her mask of optimism so frequently she forgets it’s not her actual face. Largely nonconfrontational, but won’t hesitate to break up a fight. She’s been feeling caged up for most of her adult life, stuck in a shitty town with shitty people, and she sometimes daydreams about hopping on a bus and leaving this all behind. But that’s too much of a risk, and isn’t it better to just stay where you are, where things are familiar and stable? Surely the grass isn’t actually greener on the other side. Has been dreading Wade’s proposal because that would be the final nail in the coffin, so to speak, but she wouldn’t have been able to say no if not for Clint’s arrival and, you know, the whole zombie children thing. Would probably really love to be a mom, but isn’t sure she’s ever going to be ready for it. Needs therapy.

If Lucy is the president of the Repression Club, Tracy is vice president. He desperately wants to be out, but the way everyone around him talks about gay people (and anything else ‘other’) terrifies him so he keeps it hidden. Most of them probably wouldn’t actually give much of a shit, but why risk it? Thinks he’s being subtle when he makes double entendres, definitely isn’t. A pretty creative guy, probably into theatre. Would move to a more gay-friendly place, but like Lucy, he’s worried about the risk. Taking that step would feel like crossing a line that couldn’t ever been taken back, and despite how much happier he’d be if he did, he can’t do it. Deserves a bunny. Needs therapy.

Clint hates himself. He made it out of Fort Chicken, he was on his way to achieving his dreams, only to crash and burn when reality set in. Probably could have made it writing kids’ horror a la R.L. Stein, if he ever gave it a try. Has so many regrets he could probably write a book out of those, too. Has definitely drunk-dialed an ex. Clings to his identity as a writer because to do otherwise feels like giving up and admitting defeat. Bi-curious, won’t explore that facet of his personality because he was bullied in school for accidentally looking at another guy a second too long in the locker room once. Tried an edible once and the feeling of being high freaked him out so he never tried it again. Lucy reminds him of a time when life was simple and dreams felt achievable. Needs therapy.

Rebekkah watches Fox News.

ok fine, here’s some more: this woman is terrified of the world and has been since 2001. Probably brought up being taught to fear and hate ‘Them’; non-white people, scientists who ‘hate God’, pot smokers, gay people. Mormons. She puts on this prickly, aggressive attitude to fend off people so they can’t get a chance to hurt her. Religion is her lifeline, even if she doesn’t actually practice it, because it’s something she can blame when things go wrong (the devil did this) and believing there’s a divine safety net is probably the only thing keeping her going. Unfortunately she ended up the type of person to use her religion as a way to feel superior to people she doesn’t understand. Makes no effort to understand other people, either, so that’s a double-whammy. Drinks box wine. Really wants to know what it feels like to kill someone. Definitely needs therapy. 

Hatachi needs a house, give him an actual house, stop making him live in the boiler room, are you not paying him??? 

[imsparky2002]

Class of Villainy - Poor Lila

Here are the ways that Lila’s been bullied by her villainous classmates.

Marinette ruins her clothes and mocks her fashion sense

Alya, Mylene and Juleka love to torture the girl with their spells

Nino and Denise work together to swindle her out of her possessions. Denise has turned her into a frog more than once, and uses their shadows to mess with her, or just pricks her with their voodoo doll.

Ivan has given her nightmares and freaked her out by hiding some of his bugs in her locker.

Kim’s asked her out once (even though she’s repulsed by him) as a prank, after she told him (unwillingly, but, ya know, compulsive truth disease) that she found him disgusting, he humiliated her in front of the entire school

Alix and Ismael have pounced on her at numerous times.

Marc and Nathaniel will push her to the ground if there’s a puddle nearby, and mock her for being a “pitiful commoner”. Nathaniel has also chased her around with a croquet mallet, and Marc has snuck small amounts of poison into her food, causing her to go to the hospital.

Adrien hypnotises her into revealing humiliating information about the other heroic students

Chloe and Sabrina generally just act really bitchy to her

Max uses his tech and Rose uses her glitching powers to mess with her.

Reshma and Jean have stolen her lunch money.

Aurore has scared the shit out of her several times by appearing as some sort of shapeshifted animal (though it’s nothing personal.). While Mireille has sent some of her Titans after Lila.

As President and Vice President, Zoe and Cosette have stated that anyone hanging out with Lila will be shunned (Lila still has a few friends, Felix and XY), but she’s still enemy number one in the villain’s eyes

Lacey sneaks up on her and threatens Lila at knifepoint

Simon shames her for acting “sinful” in his eyes

Kagami has chased her throughout the school with a sword in hand

Luka will spy on Lila while in raven form, then report his findings to Juleka

So as you can see, poor Lila! (Who would’ve thought I’d be saying that?!) I went off of what @artzychic27 started in my last post.