#bc the gas station … so much more painful

[bibleofficial]

this gas station cashier was fuckin around w my cigarettes after i bought them & i nearly hopped over that damn counter

[wonillaa]

driver vs passenger princess with enhypen

note this is very much inspired by woniebabe on tiktok bc i have been thinking abt this for so long and saw their post and it was like fate

heeseung is already jumping in the passenger seat before you can even get to the car … drink in one hand and his phone in the other on aux. “by the way you were supposed to turn there”

* gasps and grabs your thigh when a song he likes comes on (he chose it)

* keeps a box in the back with snacks he likes and feeds you while you drive

* pays you back by agreeing to get your gas when you drive 🤗

* knows the directions to every place ever

jay never lets you drive, claims its his duties as your boyfriend. lets you play whatever music you want but complains immediately whenever it gets too cold or too hot

* uses his horn more than he should, road rage personified i fear

* keeps tampons/pads and pain killers in the back if you have a period </3

* tries to show off by steering with his knee and accidentally swerves into the other lane

* every drive is karaoke, windows down both of you screaming the lyrics

jake starts off driving you around and asks more and more to be the passenger, “you’re just so good at it you know” and you both know he’s lying and hates driving

* points out every dog he sees

* buys you cute decorations for your car and air fresheners

* hand on your thigh at all times, plays the music so loud it’s embarrassing

* takes pictures and videos of you especially if you’re wearing sunglasses, he thinks you’re so cute 😓

sunghoon looooves driving you around meanwhile he is a danger behind the wheel, but he refuses to let you drive and argues that he’s never gotten in an accident so it’s fine

* likes to honk at people right when the light turns green, thinks he’s so funny

* speeds around corners and runs over curbs

* loves surprising you by pulling into your favorite coffee place and gets you treats

* shushes you if you talk over his favorite part in a song

you and sunoo have made an agreement that he drives if its dark but all other weather conditions are on you, he thinks night driving is relaxing he loves it

* prefers being a passenger so he can stare out the window and point things out to you

* you have a 24hour playlist you made together you shuffle every time

* when he drives he’ll hit potholes or slam on his breaks accidentally and just glance at you trying to not laugh and how your head just slammed against your window

* sunoo just reminds me of roadtrips so much and you two have each others gas station orders memorized

jungwon prefers driving but will let you decide, loves saying weeeeee on curves and gives people a thumbs down when they pass him

* big fan of cruise control and rants on how useful it is

* always gets you gas and washes your car for you

* randomly shows up by your house and texts you to come out because he’s bored

* very safe very good driver 🙏 you are in good hands

niki is nothing if not a passenger princess, cannot sit still either he goes from laying down with the ac blasting to dancing with the windows down

* do not even ask him to give you directions because he’ll read the map completely wrong and just laugh as you make the wrong turn and say “oopsie”

* asks to get snacks and says he’ll pay for it next time bc he definitely purposely forgot his wallet

* reaches over and honks at cars for you if they almost hit you “don’t get embarrassed he almost killed us!!”

* you two make so many car vlogs on post them on tiktok

* he is so spoiled and he deserves all of it 😔

[obriengf]

A Gracious Gift || Mitch Rapp x Reader

Summary: Mitch had almost forgotten what it was like to be shown love until you gave him a small token to change his mind. Words: 1.4k Warnings: swearing bc it's mitch... he also has trust issues okay, pretty angsty oops Notes: the first addition to my 2023 xmas fics!

hope he's bringing me love this christmas cause i deserve you here ✩

His nose scrunched, details of exasperation etching themselves deep in the wrinkle between his brows and the frown of his lips. It was a cross between amusement and simple irritation that devoured the man as he stood resistant to the brightly coloured lights that reflected across the warm brown of his irises, arms crossed over his chest and a huff pushing past his lips. Mitch Rapp didn't do Christmas, not anymore. Neither did his ears enjoy the pretentious tunes that flooded the small living room of your safehouse or the irony they held as he stared at the decorated tree beside the small television.

"Is this a joke?" He huffed, once more, head barely turning as his voice carried to the small frame to his left. You didn't reply, his question dripping in all things rhetorical, and instead allowed a smile to curl upward into the shadow of a smirk. His pessimism is something that you're used to by now - starting beyond the tantrum he threw when you were first assigned as his partner. The Assassin grew to like you, however, after many arguments and a handful of times proving yourself. He saw honour within you and a driving force to do right by all, no matter what it took. In turn, you saw a man that hurt where his heart lay, but he used his head as a guard and determination to build up near impenetrable walls. It didn't stop you though, from trying... from showing him that there is much more to this world than Good versus Bad. And eventually, Mitch Rapp became oxygen - you breathed in his presence every single day without fault, but a part of you also desperately needed him to survive. 

"Don't be such a killjoy." You eventually said, proud that you pulled together something so makeshift in such little time allowed. You chuckled at his negative outlook, avoiding the side eye he threw your way as you tentatively reached out to drag a finger across a bright blue bauble. It was hope, a much-needed light in the midst of the cruel world that you face every day. And it just so happened to appear in the form of cheap gas station decorations and an overwhelming scent of pine needles from one of the small trees next to the cabin. You drew a breath as you turned to the man, the whisky tone of his eyes already peering down at you. He was swimming in hesitation, near drowning from it if it meant that he kept himself closed off. "I just wanted to give you a reason to be happy."

Your voice was quiet, and Mitch nearly would have missed it if he wasn't pouring so much of his focus into you. He last celebrated this stupid Holiday with Katrina - when he had a reason to smile, to have hope, to bathe in that happiness that would usually come from such a joyous time. And since then, you had made him smile and he had an inkling of hope, and he had a reason to be happy once again but the pain was still so incredibly present that it continued to devour every single cell in his body until he was just a shell. And Mitch hurt. He always hurt.

You always knew when he was starting to shut down. Mitch's emotions would turn off, like a simple flick of a switch, and the robot persona that the Central Intelligence Agency craved would soon embody the man that you've grown so accustomed to. You would lose him for hours, as if he was asleep and he needed to wake. Mitch Rapp had lost hope for so long and it killed you to see how much it affected him.

Even if it took every single second you owned, you were going to help him. To show the man the love that he deserved. To finally wake him up.

Mitch scoffed and turned away from you, his large hand dragging down his cheek. Words were mumbled against the palm of his hand, "Well, you wasted your time."

"You're never a waste of time, Mitch." You replied, remaining beside the tree as you watched his head hang low. It was expected for him to walk away, but he didn't, his back still to you but his ears listening for the soft coo of your voice. A small smile tugged eagerly at your lips, "You're a lot of things, mostly a pain in my ass, but you're not a waste of time. Especially mine. I'd do anything for you, you know that."

The man exhaled, his head shaking, "You can't fix a broken man, Y/N. Not one whose as fucked as I am."

Your chest tightened. Mitch's exhaustion was wearing him down, his walls cracking, crumbling, and not in the way you thought they would. His sadness tugged at your heart and you were already beginning to second guess if your plan was the right path to take. Gently, you reached to the base of the tree, the lights flickering against the side of your face as you grasped at a small box.

"You're not broken. You're not a waste of time. And if you're fucked up Mitch, then I must be as fucked up as you because we've come from the same place. We've had the same feelings hurt. But we're here, and we're alive and okay. And I'm never letting you go, no matter how much you push me away."

Mitch turned to catch the shimmer in your eyes. He could see the emotion building up and gathering along your waterline, and he had such an overwhelming desire to catch the tears before they fell. He moved forward with large strides before he captured your cheeks within his palms, thumbs rubbing with such tenderness under the tips of your lashes. You always managed to bring him back from the edge of despair, but seeing you with such sentiment was enough to shake some sense into him. He shushed under his breath, any evidence of an Assassin disappearing, and instead a simple man was left behind.

"Please don't cry." He hummed, not daring to look away from your eyes until he felt something hard press to his abdomen. His focus broke, an eyebrow raising in question at a small white box clutched strongly within your hands. Mitch's head tilted to the side, "What's this?"

An unwanted sniffle escaped you before your gaze followed his, the box in question now lifted toward him, "I meant it when I said I'm never letting you go. You mean a lot to me, Mitch, and this is how I was going to show you... instead of crying like a child." An incredulous chuckle ended your response as you ushered the box at Mitch, shaking the small object until he took it from you.

The man was nervous, but curious, pulling lightly at the bow that adorned the top until the fabric fluttered gently to the hardwood floors. The top of the box was removed next and he froze before he picked up the item inside. Mitch's finger ran over it delicately as he peered in disbelief.

"This is for me?" He asked, voice whispered as he held his new pocket knife so gently between you both. All you could do was nod and smile as he looked at you, his own smile perking in happiness.

"Turn it over."

He did as he was told before his lips slightly parted, irises of deep brown flicking over the engraving you left on the hilt -

Always with you.

A clang was heard as he placed the knife on the table beside him, a movement so quick that you almost didn't see it happen as you were gathered in his arms. Arms of your own slid over his shoulders as the man secured your waist, his hold tight and he savoured being so close to you. It was his kick, his wake-up call. It was what he needed to know that hope was not lost. It was his future and the piece that could fill the hole in his heart.

Mitch pressed a kiss tenderly to the crown of your head, his lips then falling to your temple before they pressed again. He was sure that you could feel the thumping in his chest, but he didn't care. Not when he had you wrapped up so perfectly against his frame.

You could feel the warmth of his breath dance against your skin, "I am always with you, too."

[cacao-snorter]

creepypasta headcanons!1!1!!1

Aight here are some creepypasta headcanons cuz im bored

Slenderman

-his tentacles are furry and look like really long cat tails and get puffy and zig zaggy when he’s mad. -He is a father figure to the proxies but not a super good one and typically ends up seeming like an evil boss when he wants to appear as a father figure.

-There are two computers in the whole mansion that are old but work enough to search the internet and play minecraft

-Slenderman usually doesn’t leave the proxies alone when he’s going out for awhile because the one time he did, Jeff and Ben downloaded 69 bites of gay old man 🌽 on his computer and then Clockwork shat on it after. He cried when he got home.

Jeff The Killer

-I headcanon he’s vegan bc he loves animals

-absolute baby with fragile ‘masculinity’

-his friends joke about him being a republican hillbilly because he’s southern. (actually has a very slight accent too.)

-He’s friends with Nina despite knowing that she has a crush on him. He doesn’t mind. -he makes really gay jokes with ben

-Showers like once a month and smells bad. -I headcanon that he’s asexual and fairly androgynous. Doesn’t really know what he’s romantically attracted to, nor does he care.

-Wants to be friends with Jane again but knows he can’t.

-he was high on pain killers when he killed his family and Jane’s family in the same night and continued killing because he thought there would be no going back and now is afraid of drugs.

-edgy 15 year old with offensive tumblr humor

-Toby jokes about him being fat

-His favorite song is sweet dreams.

-was actually friends with Randy, Keith, and Troy. But a massive argument caused them to stop being friends and led to the whole incident.

Ben Drowned

-Doesn’t shower

-100% gay

-Can control the power in the mansion and make the lights turn off or something.

-Surpringly good with technology and doxxes people when he’s mad. He also jokingly threatened to leak Liu’s address which scared Liu half to death.

-Has a best friend trolling trio with Jeff and EJ

-His room smells bad

-owns a worn out gaming chair

Eyeless Jack

-Doesn’t actually like eating kidneys, Chernobog just makes him, but sometimes he fools Chernobog by eating kidney beans

-Gets weirded out when somebody calls him the “son of Chernobog” because he thinks it’s weird and too fancy.

-Listens to rap music

-Tried to become a rapper and used garbage YouTube beats, he made five songs that were all about fingering Otis (Bloody Painter). He also sampled an audio of Jeffrey beatboxing sweet dreams in the background of one of his songs. This same song had kazoo in the bridge

-ex zalgo goon but nobody knows but Slenderman and he’s too scared of what everyone would think if they knew.

-Extremely insecure about his face and always has his mask on. Only people who’ve seen are Jeff and Slenderman.

Ticci Toby

-Asshole with hatchets -joked about being flat earth but now thinks he might actually be flat earth

-besties with Clockwork

-Hates waffles. He hates them so much, he went into a gas station at 9pm, shoplifted a box of frozen waffles, threw them at a group of middle schoolers, and popped a cap in the cashier’s ass when he tried to stop Toby. He actually got his face on the news for this. One time, Lazari poured syrup in the vents and the mansion smelled like waffles for a whole week, Toby had constant headaches while throwing up and crying because he thought the mansion smelled so bad.

-Very quiet and always cooperative, so he’s like Slenderman’s favorite.

-bullies jeff for apparently being fat.

-literally doesn’t sleep

-Around most people he’s his canon self, that is very cold and quiet. Around his friends he’s more fanon Toby, annoying, immature, and has a weird sense of humor.

-encouraged Jeff to go full hillbilly mode and run over Offenderman with a truck.

-smells like cat pee and butter

-Always has an attitude and mad about something.

Bloody Painter

-Listened to all 5 of EJ’s soundtracks. Has the kazoo one on his Spotify playlist.

-Artistic

-Comes off as smart but says the dumbest thing every now and then.

-Scared of potatoes. He thinks they crawl around his room at night.

-Had the weird ice cream cut in middle school.

-Doesn’t wash his hands

Clockwork

-has a very stylish pixie cut.

-people often look at her clock eye to check the time.

-makes up things to be mad about

-has a Barbie doll that Sally gave her that was naked, bald, and didn’t have arms. She twisted its legs backwards and gave it prosthetic tampon arms so that it could sit on her nightstand on all fours. His name is Hector.

-shat on Slenderman’s computer

-besties with Toby. They were actually a couple once but then Clockwork found out she was lesbian and they broke it off. Now they’re best friends and both assholes and say the meanest things to each other as jokes.

-Has freckles all over her face. Like literally everywhere.

-Has vine humor

Nina The Killer

-absolute scene queen

-Jazmin Bean listener

-Has more anger issues than Jeff

-Didn’t kill her family. It was her bullies who killed her family.

-Toby hit her with a shoe and then chased her around the mansion to hit her with the shoe more.

-“I’m not like other girls” mindset.

-actually very sweet when she’s not mad

-dyes the streak in her hair a different color every month

(Part 2?)

[ashintheairlikesnow]

ash beloved, as a prince of woe and misfortune (a fibromyalgia haver) can i request some jameson on a bad pain day

the current vibe is 'i need to pee but my legs are fucking screaming and i havent even moved them yet and my shoes feel too tight because all my peripheral joints are getting inflamed' and i feel Terrible bc i used to be able to just ,, do stuff and now i cannot because of the evil 'You Have Pain And Doctors Don't Know Why' Disorder™

i am not sure whether i want to revel in shared misery or schadenfreude but i am sure i want to see a guy in pain

Anon, my gift to you and my sympathies for your Whole Body:

CW: Chronic pain, self-harm (brief, self-hitting), self-loathing, aftermath of whump, recovering whumpee

-

"You pushed yourself too hard, that's all." Nat tries for soothing, but when she puts a hand out to touch his shoulder, Jameson shoots her a furious glare and she carefully shifts it back again. "Right. Okay. You have to take things slow, honey, your legs-"

"-are goddamn fucking useless, yeah, I get it. I got it." Jameson's rasping voice is thinned to little more than a whisper as he hunches over himself, sitting sideways on the couch with his legs out on the cushions bent at the knees, refusing to straighten. He slams a fist down on his thigh just to feel a bloom of new pain that's is brighter and new compared to the eternal goddamn throbbing of the old. It's... nice. He tries it again on the other side.

Jesus, how fucked up is this? That this is what helps?

"Hey, hey now," Nat says, and before he can do it again she takes his wrist in her cool hands and holds his arm steady. "Not your best idea. I didn't call any part of you useless, that isn't what I said, honey."

"I wanted to walk to the goddamn gas station." Jameson glares at her hands, but he holds still under her deft, gentle touch. He doesn't pull away, or hit anything, he just... sits here, his knees shifting and muscles twitching in a pointless attempt to escape what's inside of them, what's as much a part of him as his own breath in his lungs now. "It's less than two miles. Less than two! I used to-... to run, on the treadmills in training, for fucking five miles, ten miles, no fucking sweat. My handlers told me I had a record for going so fast. I could run for fucking days on end, if I had to! Now..."

He groans, dropping back against the arm of the couch, even angrier when hot tears burn against his eyelids, trying to force their way out.

"Jameson-"

"Now... I can't even fucking walk."

"You do have the crutches, and the chair you can use, I know the sidewalk runs all the way past the gas station-"

"I wanted to fucking walk, Nat! I felt really good this morning! This shit didn't start up until I was putting on my fucking clothes! I shouldn't have fucking needed the goddamn fucking crutches or the stupid fucking chair!"

He grabs almost sightlessly for the crutch leaning against the couch, has it in his hand, and pulls his arm back to throw it.

"I hate this fucking shit!"

Nat's hand closes back around his wrist, and this time her grip is like iron, and Jameson feels his rage wither when he meets her steady hazel eyes.

"Jameson. You are not going to throw that."

Nat rarely uses this voice. Not with him. But now she does, firm and even stern, brooking no appeal. If she wasn't Nat, that voice would be an impossible turn-on. He'd be on his knees, not that he could do that without screaming any longer. He'd be begging her for... anything.

If she was Nanda...

No one's ever going to be Nanda. Not ever again. He pushes down the sharp, if finally slightly faded, spike of pain.

Nat refuses to let him look away this time. "Listen to me. That crutch is a tool, not a weapon. It was a gift, and it is a gift for you. It lets you go places you could not go before. Just like the chair. So if you break it, it's broken, and you lose that tool. Please, honey, don't cost yourself something that helps by getting angry at it for being needed."

"I didn't need it, before," He whispers, and she takes the crutch away from him, laying it down on the floor. He lets her do it. "Even when I was on the run. I didn't need this shit until I started getting better, and it feels like I'm just getting worse."

She nods, and holds his hands in her own. The ache in his fingers fades a little when they warm to each other. "Your body is incredible," She says, voice low. When he scoffs, she shakes her head, smiling. "Come on, let me finish. You survived two people who tried to kill you."

"Technically five people have tried to kill me."

"Five?" Nat looks, briefly, so baffled that Jameson nearly laughs. "You've only mention the two-"

"Those were the two where I killed them first," He says, voice low. "I don't even feel bad about it."

"I know. And I'm not asking you to feel bad. I've done some things in my life I'm not proud of, too, but it kept this safehouse together and I don't regret it for a second."

"What... what did you do?"

"We're not talking about me. I'm saying that you lived when other people died. You have survived more than any other runaway I've ever met. Your body carried you through it. It kept you alive. It kept you moving, kept carrying your weight when it wanted to give out because you hadn't given up fighting. Now, it doesn't have to carry you so far anymore. Your body knows you're safe, that you have people here who care about you, so it's hurting like hell because it hasn't allowed itself to hurt as much as it needed to for a long, long time. Your body carried every bad thing that ever happened to you, and I for one am grateful for it, because it got you here to us. Look at you."

Jameson shifts, trying to move his legs so he can face her. They protest with a scream that he has to grind his teeth against, but he manages to get both feet flat on the floor. "Look at me?"

"Yeah. Look at you. You're alive, honey." She smiles, hands on either side of his face, and he finds himself - reluctantly - smiling back. "You're alive and you wake up every day and sometimes the days are good, and sometimes they're not-"

"Like today. Today sucks."

She laughs, short and soft, and he loves her so much it is physically painful, the way that you love a mother, or a sister. "Yeah, okay. I'll give you that. But today is just one day, and you've got more comin'. Maybe tomorrow you can walk to the store, or maybe you'll need the crutches or the chair, but you know what? You'll still get there, if you want to, because you are the most stubborn son of a gun on earth and if you want those awful taquitos, I know you'll find a way."

Jameson's smile shifts. Incredulous, he asks, "Did... you just say 'son of a gun'?"

"Oh, shut up. I grew up in a family where that was just about the worst thing any of us could say without serious punishment. Sometimes that stuff still comes out." She pokes him in the nose, watching him wrinkle it in response.

There's a pause.

Then he clears his throat.

"It wasn't, uh, it wasn't taquitos." He discovers he's mumbling, flushing a little.

"Oh. Doughnuts, then?"

"No, not those, either, just... it's stupid. But Vince, uh, the other day he made this stupid fucking joke about Red Bull, so..."

"So..." She blinks, eyebrows furrowing. "You were... going to buy him a Red Bull?"

"I was... gonna buy about fifty and put them in his bed."

Nat just stares at him, blinking, as seconds stretch slowly out. "You were... you were going to-"

"Buy like... fifty Red Bulls and put them in his bed, uh, cover them in his fucking blankets and like arrange them like a person, and then... you know... It, uh, makes better sense in context."

"How could it possibly? You know what, doesn't matter. Here's what we'll do. You get those crutches on your arms, and i'll drive you to the gas station, and we will... we will get you your... fifteen Red Bulls."

"Fifty."

"Oh, my God. Where do you even get that much money?"

"... Vince gave me money."

"You're using his own money to prank him?"

"It's not like he fucking needs it!"

"You know what? I'm going to stop asking questions when the answers only give me new questions to ask." She pats his arm, and he takes the opportunity to brusquely throw an arm around her and crush her tightly to him in a hug. "Jameson-"

"Thanks," He mutters, then pushes her back and away so he can clumsily get on his feet. His knees nearly buckle, but when he throws his hand out Nat is holding the crutch, and he slots his arm into the cuff that fits just below his elbow. Nat has to hand him the other one, and help him with his shoes, and the whole time his legs ache like someone is slowly sawing them off with a nail file, but he stays standing.

He wants to play this stupid fucking prank on Vincent fucking Shield, and he can already tell it's the only thing he'll be able to do today and even that's only with Nat's help.

By the time they get back from one single errand he'll need more painkillers and a nap just to recover enough to finish putting the energy drinks into Vince's bed. Then maybe another nap after that.

But it's what he wants to do.

Fuck it.

If he only gets one thing to work on this shitty day, it might as well be the most bafflingly confusing thing he's ever done.

Plus, Nat always plays Jameson's playlist when she drives him in her car. So that's one good thing.

-

[kamiversee]

KAMMMIIIIII that last chapter was AMAZING (also yes the theories on sukuna blackmailing gojo were RIGHT RAAAAAHH)!!!! ok ok ok so here’s the parallels/new info we’ve got so far:

- this is why gojo HATES when the reader calls herself a whore (esp thinking about after she hooks up w sukuna and gojo is driving her and he gets MAD about it)

- this is also why gojo insists on making her hate him bc he knows that’s the whole point, he knows he’s not completely clear of his obsession but he finally understands that what he did was wrong and he can’t let her love him in the way he wants

- YES the stuff abt choso being on there bc sukuna knew she would have feelings for him!!! im still a firm believer that it’s bc sukuna feels bad about what happened w choso and wants to make it up to him in some way but idk if we’ll get to see that through

- ALSO a few sukuna thoughts: sooooo was he being stalked by his ex, the one he ended up hitting? bc he talks about being afraid, and the whole “never let a woman take away what makes you a man” thing could be because he was scared by the situation? idk that just felt too personal

- i also don’t think we ever found out who actually hurt sukuna the night of his party and gave him that bruise (i thought you said at one point that it wasn’t gojo but tbh my brain is a little mushy so that might be wrong), i don’t have many theories on that one just yet but we will be cooking hmmm

- i’ve been SAYIN it but like yes what gojo did was bad. full stop. but! he also really did seem to grow throughout TFL and the idea of him being blackmailed by sukuna makes him much much more sympathetic!!! like he knows you don’t have a job so he comes up w the idea to pay you, he keeps pushing you away bc he knows you shouldn’t love him, ugh just makes my heart hurt for this poor man

- also ….hot take incoming…..but idk that sukuna is as bad as we thought. like rn he’s just trying to protect the reader from what he sees as creepy ass behavior from gojo, presumably he’s had something similar happen, and like yes bro thrives on chaos and wants to hurt us but not just for the purpose of causing pain to a stranger but specifically to punish gojo; idk i’m not here to debate intentions vs actions vs consequences but it’s not like he just did this for laughs he really is trying to make gojo hurt and clearly he has some emotions tied up in this too

- ok rereading that last paragraph idk lmao like bro still (presumably) hits yuji bc gojo also mentions bruises idk idk idk don’t come for me

- something else that stuck out to me that i haven’t been able to stop thinking abt is that in the TFL extra on reader’s wedding night w choso, it’s mentioned that sukuna gives up custody of yuji the same night gojo reveals everything (i think tbh it’s been a min since i read it), but like….why? (i think) that extra was canon and it almost feels like too much of a coincidence but maybe it just is ????? someone else who has better thoughts than i do please share hahahahaha

PHEW this got long but i just had to type it out after all our theories have been coming for so long it’s so exciting to see everything start falling into place!!!! i can’t wait to get back to the run in w sukuna at the gas station AHH i have a feeling bro is about to blow shit up and i cannot wait!!!!

- 🩷

WOOHOOO YAP SESSION

Glad you enjoyed it my love!!! I shall disagree/agree paragraph by paragraph so lets get to unpacking :P

1. Yes! Sukuna was the first and only person Gojo’s ever heard call her such a thing so when the term is later used by the reader herself, it triggers him all over again :)

2. Yes yes yes yes!! This is exactly why Gojo kept telling her that love between them is “forbidden” and why he’d compare it to being a “crime”. You can also see how as tfl goes on, his obsession returns due to him being so close with the reader and finally experiencing her just as he’d always longed to.

3. Mhm! Sukuna is quite the mastermind :3

4. This Sukuna thought is on the right track to say the very least & avoid further spoilers! ^.^

5. Gojo was not the person to hit Sukuna that time!

6. YES I CANT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. I know he’s bad terrible etc BUT, Gojo does do exactly as he always said he would & changes for the reader to become deserving of her whilst also telling her she cannot be with him… I’d also like to point out how a lot of Gojo girlies said they would’ve picked him right then and there after his confessions but I wonder how they feel now knowing that Gojo would’ve almost never told them about his past actions 🤔

7. Sukuna is… Well, let me say this, there are no true villains nor hero’s in tfl or ftl. No one is completely good & no one is completely bad, both stories are just messy tales of humans figuring life out.

8. Well, Gojo did mention bruises but that is before tfl takes place so we don’t know when exactly Sukuna’s domestic violence stops…

9. Think about two things here— One, Sukuna mentions that the reader deserves some form of happiness out of her, a feeling that could’ve doubled after he experienced her for himself. Two, it’s theorized that Sukuna still wants to make things up to Choso. Similar to Gojo, Sukuna cannot undo what he’s done in the past but he can try to make amends. I hope that makes sense & helps your thoughts ^.^

Im happy to see u excited about this!!! I was excited planning this & writing this >< When we circle back to the gas station & enter the sequel… things will indeed be insane. 🙂‍↕️

[the-ghost-bracket]

Ghostbur propaganda:

"My man was literally haunting not just the characters, but the narrative itself"

"Dude he is so sad all the time, nobody takes him seriously because he’s so kind and upbeat but he really and truly is so sad, he’s got awful memory problems, all he wants is people to be happy like he couldn’t have been, but they don’t even stop his pet sheep from dying because “it’ll just come back” bc it’s a ghost too and then he has a whole thing about how that doesn’t mean they don’t feel pain too and just he’s very very sad and is perpetually stuck in a train station all alone forever"

"This ghost, this poor little ghost was done SO dirty oh my god. Okay for context in case you don’t know about anything from that hellhole minecraft server, in that universe you get 3 lives, and once you die you get sent to limbo and a ghost takes your place in the overworld. Most people get ghosts but some don’t. But! You can get revived! Which means you get to go back to the overworld but you ghost takes your place in limbo. One more thing I should mention before I get to Ghostbur is everyone’s limbo looks different, because it’s literally their personal hell. I’m sure you see where this is going. :) SO! Ghostbur. Wilbur, the person he’s a ghost of was not a great person before he died. But Ghostbur is nothing but kind, if not a little naïve to everyone and everything. This all leads up Ghostbur getting murdered trying to help his little brother figure, and Wilbur being revived. This means Ghostbur gets trapped alone in limbo. Ghostbur’s story could have left off there but NOOOOOO his creator decided to make it worse. Water burns Ghostbur, so crying is painful. He has memory problems and with nothing to write on he only has the haziest memories of his family left. He’s stuck in limbo for decades before something happens. Meanwhile back in the overworld Wilbur’s been having a pissing contest with his ex and realizes “Huh, a lot of people liked this Ghostbur guy and I know where he ended up. Maybe I should do something nice for him.” And sends Ghostbur’s beloved pet sheep, Friend to hell to be with Ghostbur. The last we ever see of Ghostbur is he, for once in a very long time crying tears of joy as he is reunited with his Friend."

"DSMP gets a bad rep for the guy it’s named for (who I do not support in ANY way whatsoever), but it was made up of 30+ creators, many of which put so very much passion and love into the project. Wilbur Soot was one of them, and Ghostbur was his character after he died.

Ghostbur was sweet, goofy, and terribly tragic. He would go around offering blue dye to his friends, saying “have some blue”, saying it would soak up their sadness. He only remembers happy things from when he was alive. He had a sheep named Friend. He was as lovable as his memory was painful, and an overall very good ghost"

"when he got revived it was to help in a plan to beat up his chosen brother's abuser by breaking INTO jail and having his bro follow him invisible. he's the best musician on the server according to his dad :D. he has a blue sheep named friend on a leash who has infinite cannon lives. he has memory issues and can't remember bad feelings after they happen so people often infantilize him which sucks because he's actually very competent and just wants to help his friends and have a good time. he got sent to limbo sadly and has likely been there for a couple thousand years now. which is incredibly sad. the guy who plays him wrote sad hurt no comfort drabbles about it on reddit."

"just a really sweet guy, currently chilling in the afterlife with his sheep friend while the revived version of himself is working in a gas station in utah"

[piperscharm]

Nico Hcs bc I have wayyyy too many

He likes fruit snacks. Not bc hes gay or anything he just likes fruit snacks. That’s it.

He can play violin like his mother, Maria. He also learned the acoustic guitar at camp (Will likes to suggest the Star Wars theme track for him to play and Nico rarely does so for him). He also can play piano bc I think it goes with the whole “I grew up in the 30s/40s” thing.

The lord of darkness, controller of shadows, the ghost king is so ticklish. Him and Bianca used to have tickle fights and when Will tickles him he feels melancholy and happy at the same time.

This hc is very popular, he can sing beautifully. But it doesn’t end there, he can only sing good in the shower and he sounds decent at the camp fire but since hes 15 going thru puberty, theres lots of voicecracks.

As much as everyone loves the hc that Bianca would accept him for being gay if he could still visit her, I disagree. They grew up in the 30s/40s and you all saw how Nico was closeted for 4 years before being outed. He obviously grew up in a place where it was heavily discriminated against and that included his home so I think Bianca would be hesitant/taken aback at first but after some time, she eventually accepts it (I like to think this because of how she saw Achilles and Patroclus interact in Elysium and started to reconsider her homophobic acts).

After Will introduces him to 80s rock, he is invested and involved and geeking out about music more than Will atp. He also likes calmer artists tho like Fleetwood Mac and MAYBE Lana Del Rey. Idk tho.

His first job would totally be a haunted house operator. Also his dad and Will would force to get a job to build social skills too lol.

Everyone thinks his eyes r creepy and dehumanizing but if you actually, like, LOOK into them carefully, his eyes are full of a lot if pain and misery but they are kind and gentle as well. Also, after meeting Will, you can start to see some sparkle in his eyes.

His favorite types of movies are the ones with big plot twists. You would think his fav genre is horror and he likes it but he actual fav genre is actually like tender and loving romance and coming of age movies. But as I said, big plot twists. Like Sweeny Todd, The Village or Pan’s Labyrinth. Idk if he would watch those specifically but movies like those. Especially Sweeny Todd, tho, he would watch that.

He is so soft for his little sister (cannon) and he gets her any candy she wants from a nearby store or gas station when she’s on her period. And usually, Hazel doesn’t tell anyone bc that how it was in the 30s/40s but Nico can see the change her mood for a few days straight or here a pad opening in the bathroom before bed or something. He also doesn’t just go like “bought you chocolate for ur period” and hand it to her in front of everyone, no. He is actually very understanding after living with Bianca for decades and gets her a red show box or something and puts candy, a heating pad and a new stuffed animal every time in there for her and sets it on her bed bc Hazel’s last, like, a week as a personal hc. So yeah, he’s very soft and loves his little sister rjrnrbbebe.

ONE MORE, some solangelo for the heart ig. He likes to personally teach Will how to play the guitar bc he wanted to learn and Nico helps him tune his guitar and all of that. Nico usually teaches him in Cabin 7 in winter when no one’s in there so they have some alone time and just have fun w/ it in general. (Bonus: Will asks Nico to kiss his callused fingers after the first few lessons when his fingers are red after and Nico does so when he said Will did good this time. Nico means good as in being extra cute and fun today.)

[zeroiii]

hi i know this is a weird question but idk who to ask or anything really and i keep getting conflicting opinions off reddit

what r the best type of weed/thc gummies to order do you know? and how long does it take to kick in is there a scientific formula to it? im a fat guy so i did read that it might take longer to work for me or that i might have higher tolerance because of that

i am legal btw if you're worried about that, im just disabled and have some mental issues that make it hard for me to figure this out

and i keep finding so much varying info??? it really is not easy to research

pls help or maybe your followers can help if you don't know

or maybe direct me somewhere where i should be asking instead? idk

thanks!

honestly i might not be the best person either but i will post so others can help but most importantly if ur looking for pain relief i would look for thc AND cbd gummies; they make ones with both. cbd is seriously going to be ur best friend for pain relief

your tolerance is kind of weight-dependent. i can't remember exactly what it is, but if you're super skinny like me ur gonna lose ur tolerance super fast (mine gets pretty low if i dont smoke or do edibles for more than a day). i dont know if i worded any of this right especially bc if its ur first time trying anything thc its going to hit you no matter what. my first time eating an edible i had 20mg and did not move from the couch for hours

it also kind of depends on how full your stomach is, at least ive noticed for me. i try to eat something before eating a gummy if i can and depending on the strength it can take a bit. i never time it anymore but usually its working within the next half hour

i cant rly say WHERE to buy weed because it really depends on ur state and local area stuff. i have a couple dispensaries about 20 minutes away from me but it could be different for u. dont do gas station weed. even if theyve got a fancy counter and all the cool glassware behind them, dont do gas station weed.

i think ive said everything i wanted to say so if anyone else wants to give inputs :)

[pretzelposts]

Gas Station Restroom C. S.

Christopher Sturniolo x Fem!reader

Genre: Smut

Just as soon as me and Chris entered the gas station , Chris practically dragged me into the family restroom by my arm. He locked the door and slammed me against it, making me whimper softly in pain. Chris smashed his lips against mine as he slowly started to grind himself against my lower belly. I moan softly as he trails his lips down my jawline and to my neck, then to my collarbone.

Chris pulls back to look at me, panting softly. I whimpered softly, looking into his eyes.

“Mn, are you okay, my baby?” Chris asks me in a gentle voice. I nod, trying to take off my jean shorts. “Let me help you, ma.” Chris reaches down and unbuttons my shorts aswell as the zipper. He pulls them down, revealing my pink lacy panties that he had bought me a few months back.

“Oh, my baby. I missed it so much.” he mumbled, making sure I stay pressed against the door as he kisses my inner thighs. He hums against my skin, making me moan softly. He pulls down my panties, revealing my wet slick. He groans softly at the sight and doesn’t hesitate to delve his tongue into my folds, making me cry out in pleasure.

My fingers tangle in his soft brown locks, tugging ever so slightly as he ate me out. He groaned, burying his face into my thighs. “You taste so sweet, baby.” he murmurs softly. The cord in my tummy starts to tear as he works his tongue. “Can you cum for me, ma?” Chris asked softly. Without getting a chance to speak, the cord in my tummy snaps as I cum. He licks up every bit. I pant softly , and before I know it, Chris has me lifted up, his hands supporting my ass as he sits me on his lap.

“Can you ride me, mama?” Chris murmured softly, kissing and suckling on my already-hard nipples. I nod, throwing my head back. He helps me position him under me, and before I could take a deep breath, (because Chris is huge.), Chris’s cock is inside of me, filling me to the brim. I moan loudly, his hand coming up to cover my mouth, muffling my moans. I start riding him, my ass cheeks slapping against his thighs as I do. Chris puts two fingers in my mouth, and I immediately start suckling on them.

“Good girl,” Chris whispered, looking up at me in adoration. Moments later, he pulled his fingers out and smeared the saliva on my cheek before slapping it gently. I whimper softly, my tits bouncing in his face as I ride him like never before. He groans softly, taking one of my nipples into his mouth and sucking once more. “Can I cum inside, mamas?” Chris asks, his voice shaky with excitement. I nod, biting my lip and squeezing my eyes shut as he brings me to orgasm once again. He cums as well, pulling my head down to meet my lips in a gentle, loving kiss.

I return it, moaning softly into his mouth as I ride out my high. After a few moments, we pull away and look at each other. I pull myself off him and crouch between his legs where his cock stands tall and hard for me. He looks down at me, his eyes narrowing in confusion. I smirk slightly before taking him into my mouth, deepthroating him almost immediately. He groans, his eyebrows knitting together and his jaw dropping, his fingers weave through my hair, gently forcing my throat further onto his cock. “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum.” you giggled softly

“But I just started.” he groaned again. “Y-you’re too fucking good.” I sucked him harder, making him cry out softly. “M-ma, you can’t do that. We’re in public.” I look at him through my eyelashes. “Says who?” “S-says me!” Chris whined. A few moments later, he cums, filling my mouth with his warm love juice. I pull off him and look up at him. “We better go home. The stores gonna close soon.” I suggest, and he nods. “Can we finish at home?” Chris pleads softly, the pad of his thumbs gently stroking my hips.

“Of course.”

©pretzelposts

@Pretzelposts is typing…

this is my very first ‘fanfic’ so please don’t judge bc i have no idea what i’m doing lololololol. anyways i MIGHT make more not sure yet. please leave suggestions and comment if you want in the tag list if i make more fanfics. if you’re reading this, thank you and ily!!! 🤍❕

[drpeppertummy]

🥙🩲🔍👁️🕴️🍣🏚️ 📈 for Dave and Gray :3

omfg u guys & these long-ass lists😭😭😭😭😭😭 Thankyouuuuuu

🥙 Is your character easily persuaded to eat more on top of an already-full stomach? Under what circumstances? What foods are most likely to get them into this situation?

theyre both easily persuaded to eat too much but for different reasons. dave bc hes like "fuckit why not" and gray bc hes a pushover who sucks at speaking up when he cant eat any more. dave is also more likely to Willingly eat more without outside influence whereas gray will stop when hes full unless outside influence pressures him to keep going

🩲 Does your character have any particular clothes that they like to wear when their belly doesn't feel good, especially if they're feeling really bloated? What would they wear at home vs if they had to go out?

i dont think either of them wears anything particularly special if theyre going out with a full tummy, although gray might try to choose a looser shirt. at home tho theyre both wearing their worn out raggedy-ass Around The House clothes or jammies

🔍 What do others (friends, partners, strangers, coworkers, etc) think of your character when they're very visibly stuffed after a big meal? Whether it be about their appearance, habits, capacity, etc

dave has an insane capacity for his weight so when hes really stuffed his tummy straight up Looks uncomfortable. people who dont know him are like "good god is that guy ok" but his friends are like 🙄Classic Dave. when gray is really stuffed people are just like Dam. That Guys Belly Is Really Round

👁️ How visible is fullness on your character? After a small meal? A big one? After being stuffed to their absolute limit?

dave i kinda answered in the above question. fullness is super visible on him. gray on the other hand has a round tummy even when he hasnt eaten so it takes A Lot for him to Look stuffed

🕴️ Does your character have a job? Have they ever been way too full while at work? How did this affect them?

idk if dave has like a proper day job or not but among his friend group of amateur filmmakers hes the effects guy & he does A Lot of snacking when hes working on things at home. he usually doesnt notice bc hes so focused but when he snaps out of it he has to take a rest. gray works at a gas station & he has a pretty big capacity so being Too Full at work isnt a common situation for him; normally the scenarios that lead to him eating too much are when hes with his friends. if he has to work right after one of these situations he might be moving a little slow bc he gets really sleepy when hes full

🍣 Is there a particular country/culture whose food your character is more likely to overeat, whether it be their own culture, one they encounter often, or just a culinary favorite? What dishes are most likely to leave them stuffed silly?

dave will eat anything. idk if he has any particular favorite. grays mexican so he definitely has his fair share of mexican food but i think hes also fond of indian food & mediterranean food. he likes a good curry. he likes a shawarma

🏚️ Is your character more likely to find themselves overstuffed while at home or out somewhere else? If they're more likely to be too full while they're out, what circumstances tend to lead to this?

for dave, probably home. he does a lot of his work (during which he eats a ton of snacks) at home. hes not immune to overeating other places tho, esp at his friends houses when they get together for dinner. gray is most likely to eat too much when hes with his friends bc theyre always giving him their scraps when theyre full & 85% of the time this is Not At Home

📈 How far past their comfortable limit will your character eat when circumstances call for them to keep going? Will they push themselves to the point of nausea? Pain? Actual sickness? Does somebody have to tell them to stop? Or will they just quit when they're full no matter what?

both of them will keep going almost to the point of sickness but, like in the first question, for different reasons. dave will either be unaware of how much hes eaten until he hits his limit or he'll just be Bein Stupid, whereas gray hates wasting food & doesnt speak up for himself & if someone (directly or indirectly) makes him feel pressured to eat hes gonna eat

[prism-empurress]

i actually wrote something yesterday....ehhh i might as well post it to my audience of one, maybe two active people on a good day. Ace Artemis, chapter one, I guess. This takes place before he meets the others. it's kindaaa....eh...but...it tells about him anyway. I wrote it bc I wanted to write a case...but I didn't get to the case part yet.

don't worry the title's a placeholder. -LOUD AF THROAT CLEARING- ----

My name is Artemis. I'm a budding lawyer…guided only by books. I know, I'm really young for a lawyer. But nobody else was going to step up and try to make the world a better place.

My mother doesn't even know me, so I was raised by my grandmother. My mother…she has some form of medically induced amnesia. She's happy, but at the cost of creating new memories. My father may as well not exist; he's not in the picture at all. Even in photo albums, there's no big male figure. Just me, my mother, and my grandmother.

I come from a long line of wind whisperers, people able to communicate directly with any breeze that passes by. It astounds me that no one else can hear the whispers the wind carries. It can get annoying at times, but I've learned to tune it out. It's funny, I wasn't able to decode any wind as a teenager, then I became a man and it was so clear to me.

Nobody likes listening to what I have to say about the wind though, so I often keep quiet.

Passing my bar examination was a breeze, and I graduated from law school a year earlier than I expected to. I'm licensed as well. Now I just need to get my first call.

My office is actually my bedroom, which is above the local library. When I save up enough, I'm going to have a decent sized building that's within reach for everybody, but that's not going to be for a while. I'm a clean freak, and my bed is a metallic futon. I don't have much to my name; just some books, some gas station food, and a few clothes.

But I can't despair. Every Sunday I get to have an actual meal at my grandmother's place.

The phone rings. I pick it up without a second thought.

"Artemis."

"Artie! How is my favorite boy?"

"Hi Gram-Gram," I smile, "I'm good, just finished renovating."

That's not entirely a lie; I DID move some things around to fit a small desk in here.

"I have yet to actually make business cards, but…I'm good! How's…how is she today?"

Gram-Gram sighs heavily, "She's watching her soaps and knitting a sweater again. Same color, same threadcount…"

I grimace.

"How old was I when…she got that prescription again?"

"Ten, dear."

Fourteen years. Of taking that supposed antidepressant. There's got to be some long term effects on the brain after that many years.

Awkward silence, then I clear my throat.

"At least she's okay."

"I'm keeping my eye on her, don't you worry."

"Thank you, Gram-Gram. I'll see you Sunday."

"Good luck, Artie."

I hang up the phone, and fat tears roll down my face. This happens every time. I thought I'd grow numb to this pain, but it just hurts all the more like ripping off a freshly formed scab.

[ididkn0w]

So like basically fuck I’m sorry I just need to tell u I love you again and that I’m craving you I’d love to be under the covers forcing ourselves to be touching every inch of our bodies with the other and my face on ur chest. So basically I left and like I slept the entire entire flight bro there’s nothing to it😭 I did wake up once and it’s bc they were giving food and it was nasty ass fucking scrambled egg. Girl u alr know me I will never eat that fuckin airplane scrambled eggs no hotel fucjing scrambled eggs in the buffet. No. Only Waffle House scrambled CHEESY eggs duh. And obviously they taste better if they come from ur mouth. I miss you. So I ate like two fucking miniature ass mushrooms. Yes Ik u fucking hate mushrooms. And also that like one piece of fucking bread that always comes with it. And then I went back to sleep and then I woke up n we had to get off n I was still so tired so I was grumpy as fuck also bc we had to run to get a ducking visa and then thru ghe passport shit but bro u alr know how the airports are here in like Europe like those big cities. I mean u know, fucking London one is crazy as fuck. Btw I need London recommendations or whatever or smth ud want from there that u miss idk. So then like I was sweating and we got our bag which once again so fucking far away and then we got out and got an Uber and like he was kinda weird bc he stopped at a gas station and made us wait like 5 min like wtf ok. And you also know how it is here they go like 110 on the highway and it’s normal and then we got to the hotel and my mom was like could we pay u and u stay here while we leave our bags bc basically we had a “cruise” tour but it’s rlly just like 20-25 ppl on like a small lil like yacht? Like my boat but two stories kinda type thing nah idk why I compared my boat cus it’s not like huge like no kitchen or shit but it had like a good space like the inside of my boat? But two stories of that. So that was at 6 and we got to like the city at like 5:30 and so he ended up being rlly nice and he took us to the hotel by foot bc we were lost and the receptionist didn’t speak English so he would translate for us and even took the bag with him. And the hotel is like a local one not like a Marriott or smth so that’s why. And so then he took us to the port and we met with my family I think I didn’t mention this to u but yk it’s just me and my mom and it’s more of a work trip and so my grandma and grampa and my uncle and his wife obv like my grandpa owns the company and my mom and my uncle which is her brother are important in it duh. And so yk when we went to Vegas like it was that fair? Like the only reason I went to Vegas and also with my family for this. So they have a competitor in the like industry and they’re from turkey and they invited us to come here and to give us a tour of their factory and like yeah so they’re competition but they like get along like good like neither of them care like it’s silly? Ig to them idk like it’s not like that is what I’m saying. So back to what I was saying we got to the boat thing and before I got on I was starving so I got some like street food and btw I think like Arabic food in all I’d my favorite like that’s why I ate Lebanese yesterday. I took pics of all of this btw bc I rlly want to show u ab my day bc I love you duh ur my best friend. So then I ate that and got on the boat and like I went to sleep😭 it was 2 and a half hours n I was awake for the last half an hour and bro my body hurts so fucking much from yesterday bc I was in heels like even my toes hurt my legs are in so much pain. So we finished and bro these mofos decided to take us walking to the hotel and they were constantly stopping and shit and I was low key mas cus like wtf bro I was just on an 11 hour flight I have my fucking backpack on with my purse my makeup bag my computer and headphones all that shit and like in the same fucking outfit bro I’m tired. Btw I got a cup I didn’t take a pic fuck but I’ll show u tomorrow so yeah we walked like for a good fucking hour to the hotel and yeah that was it I’ll

[germvity]

RISES THE MOON

leon s kennedy x reader // 5 // blue blood

the officer sighs, keeping you close as he slowly starts to settle himself. eventually, leon falls asleep himself, rolling over with you so you were between him and the wall of the shack. you mumble incoherently at the movement, eyelids fluttering as you stir. yet, leon's deep breathing and soothing heartbeat makes you fall asleep once more.

genre: angst with fluff

tags: nemesis 👺, he's stinky, david being a bully 2.0, leon being a sweetheart, he cares, jill being a good friend <3, might rewrite this chapter maybe bc i just know im gonna skip a few paragraphs to get this out a bit earlier :(

warnings: bullying, hitting/beatings, crying, confession swerves, mild heartbreak bc i hate myself </3

tag list <3

@trinswhimsys , @hex-touchstarved (ily mutual <3)

---

you woke up with a harsh headache and no recollection of what happened the night before, tears stinging your eyes as you crouch down to work on the dirty generator in front of you. the wires singed your fingertips, and you hiss, pulling away right as the generator let out a skull splitting bang. your head ached as your heartbeat picked up, and you darted from the machine and into the gas station with nemesis now hot on your tail. "fuck.." you whine, just your luck that he would be on you first. you throw down a pallet with urgency, gasping as his tentacle slashes a deep infection into you. you splutter, blue blood oozing down your body as you cough into your arm. vaulting the window was easy, but unfortunately the killer's appendage is much longer than you thought as it whips your back, leaving behind a nasty gash.

fortunately, a pallet was nestled between two cars and you ran for it, managing to stun the greedy monster before scrambling to safety. "fuck.." you whine, coughing up some blue sludge as you quickly hide in your surroundings. the nemesis walks past you angrily, storming away and leaving you for a moments peace. you spot a white box's aura nearby, and it beckoned you over the the feeling of safety. you round the corner and see it sat there, and crouch down to snap the flimsy lock. you raise the vial carefully out of the foam in the case, sighing in relief before a rough hand snatches the scruff of your shirt. you yelp in surprise as david throws you to the ground, the vaccine rolls away from you and you reach for it. "you fucker! i never lose a fight!" david roars, kicking your stomach firmly. you cry out in pain, curling up into a tight ball to try and avoid david hitting any vulnerable spots. "i hate you! i hate you so much..!" the fighter continues, but now crouches down to pull you from your protective position. he punches you roughly and you wail in pain as blood bursts from your nose.

"leon!" you scream, hoping he was in this trial to help you. "leon! help me!" you cry out again, and david's cruel laughter finds your ears. "that pretty boy isn't here." he grins, giving you another punch before a pair of hands grab him. "what the-?!" the zombie cuts him off, teeth piercing david's neck as he screams in agony. the fighter scrambles away, and the zombie ignores you to follow him. "hello? i heard screaming." a new voice intrudes, and jill peaks around the corner. "jesus- what happened?" she rushes over to you as you reach for her weakly. "david... he's so mean." you cry, letting her pull you close as she hugs you tightly. "come on, let's get you somewhere safe." she offers a sad smile, pulling you up carefully.

jill patches you up firmly and cured you, she let you follow her around for the trial, pointing out totems and chests for you to work on whilst she pumped out gens. ash gave your hair an affectionate ruffle in passing, but he was always more of a lone wolf, so he left quickly to distract nemesis. the rest of the trial went bad quickly. david was mori'd, ash died on hook and jill was gravely injured as well as dead on hook by the time the last generator was powered up.

with noed rampant in the end, and the gates blocked by the entity, you and jill stayed hidden behind a pile of crushed cars as the nemesis patrolled the gates carefully. "fuck... what are we gonna do?" you whimper, looking at jill. "i have an idea. i saw hatch earlier, we can find a key." jill gives you a smile, "but all the chests are open?" you remind her, and she shrugs. "no matter, elodie taught me how to look thoroughly." she pulls you along, and you have no choice but to follow. the chest you two found had a broken key in it, and jill tossed it away to start rummaging. "aha!" she beams, tossing a skeleton key into the air and catching it as she offers you her other hand. "c'mon, let's get out of here." she says, and you take her hand.

the two of you run past the undead, past nemesis who caught wind of your scratch marks and started following, stopping at the hatch. jill leans down, unlocking the door quickly as you turn to see nemesis approaching way too quick for your liking. "c'mon, move it!" she yells, pushing you down into the void and jumping in after you. the trap door slams shut, cutting off any light as the two of you fall into the thick smoke.

you regenerate abruptly, catching yourself but still falling when jill is thrown onto you. she wraps her arms around her waist and steadies the two of you quickly, mumbling an apology as she lets go of you. "it's okay.." you reply, letting her lead you to your shack. "leon's probably waiting, c'mon." jill yawns, spotting the blonde who was indeed waiting at your door. his eyes scan the tree line, searching for you. "leon!" you call, and his eyes brighten at the sight of you and jill. "y/n! are you okay?" he runs over to meet you half way, letting you hug him tightly. "be careful, they've had a rough trial." jill says sternly, and leon nods. "thanks for looking after them, jill." he smiles, and jill nods before walking away.

"come on then, let's get you rested." leon says, but freezes when he sees the bruises on your face, "oh, what happened?" he cups your face carefully, analysing you for any signs of a concussion. "david got me... he's really mad." you sigh, melting into his touch. "that fucker... he'll get what's coming to him." leon growls, pulling you into a tight and safe hug. "can we go inside?" you ask quietly, and he nods. "of course, c'mon."

you feel safe with leon, and relax more as you enter your practically shared home. leon turns away as he lets you get changed into some more comfy and cleaner clothes, taking off his bullet proof vest and putting it in its usual spot against the wall. you flop down on your bed with a huff, the blanket feels so welcoming as leon sits next to you. you rest your head on his thigh, letting him gently stroke your cheek as you close your eyes. "you feel any better?" he asks softly, and you nod. "good. just relax, yeah?" leon smiles, leaning back against your wall as he gets comfy.

you move from his lap and smile at him. "lay down with me?" you ask, and leon chuckles. "sure." he says, joining you and letting you cuddle into him. "leon?" you mumble softly, resting your head on his chest. "yeah?" he responds immediately, rubbing your back. "thank you for doing this for me... i don't deserve you." you smile sadly and leon huffs. "don't say that. you deserve the world." the blonde says firmly, moving so you would look at him. "i like you a lot, y/n." he admits yet you just smile. "i like you too." you reply, and leon's heart tightens as he realises you're unaware of his meaning. "i like you, so much more than i should.." he whispers and you process his words.

"wait... like that or am i reading into this too much..?" you ask sheepishly and leon nods, "like that." he confirms and you look away to think. "y/n..?" he whispers, desperate for any response. "i'm sorry... i can't... i don't wanna lose you or get hurt." you reply, voice also just above a whisper. "that's fine." leon smiles to hide the pain he felt. "i'm sorry..." you say again, holding him close. "it's alright, i don't mind." leon lies, his heart burning with sorrow. "just get some sleep, y/n." he says, holding you as if you would melt away if you let go.

"are you okay?" you ask softly, hands rubbing his back. "yeah, i'm completely fine." leon replies, ignoring the strain in his voice. "no you're not... i'm so sorry..." you whisper, feeling your own tears starting to well up. "don't cry, it's fine." leon smiles, wiping your face for you. "i'm so sorry, leon.. i just don't want to get hurt." you say, nestling your head into his neck. "i know, i know.. let's change the subject now until you fall asleep." he sighs.

soon enough the two of you are talking again, and leon almost forgets the rejection until you doze off. "as long as you're okay..." he whispers to himself as he brushes fallen hair from your face. "i couldn't care less about my own feelings." he smiles, tears stinging his eyes as he pulls you into his chest.

[lordelmelloi2]

hey you said something about being a bartender at some point? I think? anyways I was wondering what that was like, bc I'm thinking of quitting my shitty gas station job to go work at the bar here instead. if you don't feel like talking about it though that's ok too

So bartending isn't really something you can just Jump into w/no prior experience, they'll probably make you work as a waiter OR as a barback first, at least in my city most places won't hire you as a bartender if you have no actual experience as a legitimate bartender Behind A Bar first (unless you get a like fast-way tip or someone puts you through to a job directly after bartending school/)

Bartending is a pretty neat profession imo but you do have to gain a sense of financial literacy about it. You don't want to be getting screwed over by event planners or employers. Some people will want you to go to bartending school, make sure your familiarize yourself with the laws because you'll need a bartending license at some point and you'll probably also need to get some course completion stuff (like in Arizona we have to get Title 4 course completion so we're familiarized with Arizona Liquor Law). And working behind a bar is totally different than like, event bartending stuff (which is what I generally prefer to do tbqh, I have a day job working at a wine & spirits store so I use event bartending to fill in the gaps in my schedule), so make sure you familiarize yourself with the way your hourly pay will work, the way your workplace handles tips, and working a tab and everything.

Know your rights!!!!!!!! Know your rights know your rights. And know the law. Don't put up with more bullshit from customers than you have to. If a customer is bothering you don't just smile and take it, ask someone for help. While financially most bartenders work kind of solo, bartending is not a job where you're expected to fend for yourself entirely and you should work at a place where you know you can ask for help if you're in a sticky situation. I fucking hate customers who try to be creepy and weird and everyone does and ideally you should have coworkers who got your back. Bartending isn't the greatest job for people with anxiety I will say that LMFAO so if you have anxiety like, this job will kind of force you to work through it real fast or at least gain some thicker skin. At the least though even w/gaining thicker skin you should be able to have coworkers who empathize and understand and will be able to take over should you need to step back for a bit. A good workplace like that will promise success.

It's always a good idea to familiarize yourself with common cocktails but don't be ashamed if you can't remember them all. My bartending mentor Rhea has to take a minute to remember some of the common ones all the time. You don't have to be like some superstar bartender that can perfectly remember every cocktail. I mean we had to remember what the fuck was in a Grasshopper the other day for christ's sake. On that note: if you get recipe books like The Bartender's Black Book those are a really really REALLY handy resource, especially if a customer asks you for something and you can't remember how to make it/what it's made with. And there's no shame in looking it up either. You can also ask a customer what's in it if you can't find out.

The other thing too is just try to familiarize yourself with basic cocktail making in general. Never open a champagne bottle when it's warm or shake anything carbonated in a cocktail shaker. that's the fastest way to make a huge mess that's a pain in the ass to clean up. Try to familiarize yourself with basic cocktail terms (i.e what are highballs, what's building on rocks, what are sours, what are navels, dirty/virgin martinis, etc.) that'll make your life much easier.

LMK how everything goes.... make sure you say you are able to start as a waiter/barback first when you go to apply or interview or whatever at this bar. That'll make it easier for you to get your foot in the door....

[ofmythsandmadness]

stop moving | d.h

you do diego’s eyeliner. 2k words.

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NOTES: gender neutral. long haired diego. i don’t know why i’m writing this and i kinda hate it lol, i rarely write this sort of thing but y’know. i’m going to check all messages, notifs & messed gems in the morning, i’m really only posting this and ghosting again, bc i know otherwise i’ll never do it. and y’know, i want to feel productive about something. take care folks <3

BUY ME A COFFEE HERE. | CHECK OUT MY OTHER WRITINGS HERE.

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"CAN YOU PLEASE STOP MOVING?!”

Hot breath stings your trembling fingers as Diego huffs a laugh; it’s barely a sound, a mumble of a chuckle, but you feel it vibrate through your body and hit your hand and it almost does you in. You almost just give up and confess your undying attraction, right then and there. And as though you need more contact, even more of him pressing against you, egging you closer to the precipice that will surely be your infatuated doom. 

“You’re the one who asked to do this, you don’t get to complain.”

“Well, you wanted it. You agreed to this!”

“I--” another exhale against your hand, another peal of laughter following shortly. You've half a mind to clamp his mouth shut with it, if it wouldn’t ignite yet another ill-thought fantasy of yours. “This was still your idea.”

Your smile buds and blooms despite your brain begging your lips to be still. You can’t help it; he’s too good at weaseling into the cracks of your composure. One look, one soft chuckle and you’re set for life. It doesn’t help that you’re basically on his lap, cradling his face in your hands like he’s a baby, and his own fingers tap-tap-tap away on your hips, creating a rhythm no one else but you can make out. Honestly, you’re surprised you haven’t totally cracked yet, this close and this personal.

“Shut your eyes.”

“They are shut.”

“No they’re not!” you poke lightly at the fluttering lids. Your lip snags on your bottom lip; a poor attempt to hide a giggle. “I can’t do this with your eyes open.”

“D'aww…” his lids shut as he groans. “So I’m just supposed to sit here? Let you draw on my face in total darkness?”

You click your tongue, half in disapproval in his exaggeration, and half because you’ve won yet again against his stubbornness. “I won’t be long. Suck it up.”

“Sure. Y’know, I have siblings; I know how long it takes them to do makeup, and-”

“-stop moving, asshole!” Your free hand tugs ever lightly on a strand of hair, one of the many that’s slipped out of his ponytail. Repressed thoughts flash in sultry red across your thoughts and you swallow, quickly letting the hair go. “I-I need you to stay still, or this will take forever.”

Diego sighs and his grip tightens around your hips. Before you know it, he’s moving you. “Then stop wriggling,” he grumbles, flattening you against his legs. You’re basically straddling him, at that point, and your mind goes absolutely blank at how much more intimate this feels. Does he notice? Or is this just another friendly motion you’re yet again reading into?

Your mouth tastes of cotton balls and it’s dry as an Arizona summer. Still, you manage an ‘okay’ before readying your pen again. All you can hope for is a steady hand, though by the way he still holds your waist, and how your mouth lingers mere inches from his lips -- well, you’re coming undone.

It’s just eyeliner, you tell yourself. Your hand rises and swipes; black begins to pool its deep colour against his lashes, low and thin. The line builds taller, thicker as you work, extending out to the corner of his eye. As he breathes, and you try to remind yourself how to, the eyeliner pen works its shaky magic and draws the slightest tinge of a wing against his skin. 

“How’s it going?”

At least he’s kind enough to mumble it, though his face still shifts under your hold. Once more your tongue clicks. 

“It goes better when you don’t speak.”

He swallows his laugh; you know, because you feel his throat work as you hold his head steady. It’s strange and exhilarating, to be so close and still so far away. You want to cradle his cheeks gentler, to hold his face with the heart of a lover, but you’re terrified he’ll recognise your touch and realise your feelings. So you barely touch him and remind yourself to be professional about this.

It’s eyeliner, not a rom-com.

“I’m bored,” he whisper whines. 

“Shh.”

“It’s too quiet.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, patting his cheek gently. “M’working.”

“Y/N...”

You pull away and sit back on his thighs. His left eye doesn’t look half bad, but if he keeps talking… “You can’t talk, ‘else it’s gonna look bad!”

“Then you talk!”

You baulk. “What?”

“I’ll be quiet,” he swears, pouting up to you with eyes still shut, “but please, say something before I lose my mind.”

“Well, I-I-what about?”

“I don’t know. Anything.” He smiles softly. “I like hearing you talk. Don’t care what about.”

You could die right then and there. It’s a simple compliment, it’s really the bare minimum, but you’re already head over heels. And just a couple of soft spoken works are all you need to do you in and nearly keel you over, still straddling his muscular thighs.

“Uh…” you cough, forcing out the giddy tremble that threatens to take your voice. No lovesick teen voice today, thank you very much. “Okay. I don’t have much to...well, the other day, I saw my coworker totally wipe out leaving work.” You pause, expecting some reply, but he stays silent. “And he... he ate so much shit, he might as well dunked his head in a gas station toilet. And - and you know, normally I’d try to sympathise, but when you always make a point to park in my parking spot, I don’t care. Brett’s such an ass. And I don’t blame him, cause he’s got an asshole name -- Brett can’t be anything else but an asshole. So it's his parents fault probably but still, I…”

You continue on, slipping from the topic of your coworker to the free muffin you got with your coffee last week, to the prospects of buying a pet to keep your apartment less lonely, and to what probably felt like a thousand and one things ranted at him. All the while your hands continue, making neat work of a task that had just felt impossible.

And miraculously, aside from a chuckle thrown now and then, Diego stays silent. Maybe he actually means it. Maybe he does like your voice -- or he’s so bored he’s falling asleep, you don’t know. But it’s okay, you don’t let yourself linger on that, too content with taking in his relaxed features and the gentleness of the afternoon sun on the two of you.

“Aaaand….there!” With a triumphant shout, you throw the eyeliner to the side and your hands plunge towards the sky, fist-pumping like you’d just won the lottery. Your body bounces up and down on his lap like a child meeting Santa; in your excitement, you barely notice. “You’re done!”

“That’s it?”

“Yup.” You grabble for a mirror, looking away from him for a moment as you reach for the handle. Wiping it off, you’re focused solely on making sure the glass is clean enough for him to see himself in, and your brain is distracted enough to totally forget what you’ve even done, enough so when you look up, all you have is,

“Oh.”

Look, you know Diego is an attractive man. You’ve known since the day you met; he’s a beautiful guy, a handsome asshole who wormed his way into your befuddled heart before you could even learn his name. He’s pretty enough that if he wasn’t so set on his weird vigilante career, he could probably shoot for being a damn supermodel. He’s a catch! But all those years of knowing that and feeling like that could not prepare you for the sight in front of you.

Diego squints at you, cocking his head. “Is it okay?”

“I…” Delicate black lines his upper lash line, making his deep brown eyes stand out even more. He’s smiling still, full lips curving up to only make your heart pound faster. A strand of his hand falls across his face, painting the gentlest of shadows but it doesn’t bother his pretty face. “I...no, no, yea-ah…”

“Wow,” he laughs, jabbing a finger into your side. “Eloquent.”

“I-I-shut up,” you stammer. You force the mirror into his hands and look away. You’re still on his lap, still straddling his lap and the logical part of your brain begs you to get it together and fall off, already. But the stupid, foolish, absolutely idiotic part leaves you paralysed. “Just look for yourself.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for him in the silence. There’s nothing, though, for achingly painful seconds, until the mirror shifts down. “Huh.”

“Huh, good? Or bad?” 

“I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Really? What’s wrong?”

“It’s not bad,” he assures you, his smile evident in his tone. “Just different. Don’t know how to feel about it.”

“O-oh...well, if it makes you feel better, I think it looks great.”

“You do?”

Oh, dammit. That came out with way too much enthusiasm, didn’t it? Your legs are concrete as you shift, face angled towards the floor. Hopefully he’s strong enough to push you off him when your body literally catches flame from humiliation. 

“You look good man,” he mocked back to you. But he’s grinning, egging you on like a child who knows he’s got you twisted around his pinky finger. “Come on, say it like you don’t have a gun to your head!”

And maybe you do, maybe you’re holding the revolver to your temple, just asking to get screwed if you dare speak beyond the most stilted compliment you’ve ever extended to someone. He’s a friend, you remind yourself; friends are allowed to compliment the other. They’re allowed to say they look good and not make it a thing, even if they wish it was a thing, and--

“--hey? You in there?”

“Sorry,” you say to the floor. You swear a thousand curses before looking back to Diego. And, yeah -- he still looks impossibly good. The ageing afternoon sun falls just perfectly against his skin, flushing him into the being of a god, standing in your apartment while you, a mere mortal, remains stuck to his thick thighs.

You gulp in air desperately, trying to catch your gaze on something, anything else -- but nothing sticks. He’s still there, inches from you, desperately aching for you to stare at.

“No, uh, yeah. You look - you look hot.”

Wait.

That wasn’t--

“-I look hot?”

That isn’t what you were supposed to say.

“I,” you have literally nothing to save yourself. This is the end! You’re young Leo and Rose is shoving you off the door and into the icy waters, and you’ve just got one last look at pretty Diego to satiate the freezing burn before you succumb to it. “I...wasn’t...that wasn’t what I meant.”

He has no right to look so smug. But he does it anyway. He leans away from your hands as they flutter through the air on their own accord, looking at you through half-lidded pools of caramel. “You don’t think I look hot?”

“Don’t,” you warn, with little strength behind it. “Don’t twist my words.”

“I’m just asking.”

He leans back in. You’re almost touching again. 

Is this weird? This is definitely weird.

You swallow back the lump in your throat and stare back at him. This all feels like fifth grade all over again -- awkward, sticky and like every move is the wrong move. But you can’t stop yourself from playing into his hands, because that sly, shameful part of you wants this more than will ever be admitted. You want him to look at you like this, like you could hang the stars if he asked you to...and you want him to pull you closer, as he does, and mean it.

Could he?

“Would you hate me? If I thought you looked hot?”

Diego head cocks to the side as he seemingly contemplates your words. A nudge meets your side; you look down to see his hands once again reaching for you. Though it's on their own accord this time, gently landing on your left hip, then the right. You shiver.

“That depends,” he says slowly. His eyes narrow, black wings just barely crinkling in. “D’you mean it like, ‘oH, that’s so-oo hot, woW-’”

Your laugh is hardly a whisper. It cracks even before your lips. “Come on.”

“Or, do you…” his fingers dig in a little more. They nudge at the fabric of your top, daring it to move enough so they could cradle the flesh hidden underneath. “You mean it the other way?”

Heart in throat, all the courage you can possibly muster with it, you mutter, “the...other way, probably.” Then a second later, “is that okay?”

“Mm…” His fingers finally reach your skin. You shiver under his touch, warm and unflinching as they brush against the soft curves. Diego’s face comes towards your own and you force yourself not to move. But he doesn’t stop, instead he goes past you, brushing his plush lips against your earlobe. “I would say...that if all this took was making you do my eyeliner, I shoulda asked years ago.”

“I, okay...don’t play with me, here--”

“--I’m serious,” he protests lowly. His lips leave your ear but they don’t run far. Instead, you find them a brush away from your own, just as you were minutes before. Only this time, you don’t try to clamp your mouth shut and skirt away from the touch. You nudge your nose against his own, exhaling softly as more skin meets the heat of his own. “You think I just let anyone sit on my lap like this, without thinkin’ it could be more?”

You shrug like this is normal. Like you’re perfectly at peace with the universe and the way you’re wondering how his tongue would taste, pushing back against your own. “I mean...do you?”

“No,” he chuckles low. “No, I’m...not into friendly lap dances, actually.”

“O-oh. Mm.”

He pulls you closer. He wants you closer.

“Diego…” You’re unravelling. You’re fucking unravelling, unnerved by his voice and his hands and you’re putty in them, all inhibitions sliding away like you’re three drinks in. His hands by your sides leave their marks against your skin; you can feel the pads of his fingers, burning into your skin like they were molten iron and not just mere brushes. “I...”

“Tell me.” He sounds cocky. He has a right to be, even if you’re damned to admit it. “Tell me what you think.”

Your hands shiver up his forearms, clinging to his bare shoulders as he pulls you impossibly closer. Your mind’s going a mile a minute and you refuse to listen to a single thought. You’re only feeling him.

“Y/N…”

“Fine,” you huff, with a smile. Your noses brush again; your eyes flutter shut with his image imprinted against their lids. “I think you look...hot as hell, Diego.”

“Yeah.” He’s grinning; you can hear it in his voice, that smirk that makes your gut flip like a damn rollercoaster ride. “S’what I thought, baby.”

And then he kisses you.

A/N: i normally hate writing oblivious characters but this wasn’t even intentional really. every time i try to write something remotely sexual i just lead the reader into ‘oH tHiS iS jUsT wHaT fRiEnDs Do’ and ‘iT’S wEiRd rIgHt’. to my defense...i doubt you’re on this page reading this expecting good sexual tension. i’m not the tua writer for that; let me know if you want recommendations for that because trust me, there are better authors for that. for now, you get this. <3